[01.17] - Biggin'-up Biggity

A cosy new family restaurant with a kick-ass dish. Spot so fresh the paint still gleamed, the home-photocopied menus still warm from the printer. I’d found it the week before; the food had been great, the fresh-faced waitress accommodating, the bathroom sparkly clean. I returned with three guests, ready to feed.

When the waiter told me my substitution was impossible (though I was willing to pay more) and snappily suggested I just order something on the menu, it didn’t go down well.

I ordered nothing. After a minute’s thought, my guests and I left, though their orders were already being cooked. Shy as I am, I had to share my sorrow with the waiter so he knew his rude approach wasn’t welcoming—and, worse yet, grossly disappointing.

I used to be a quiet soul. I still don’t like to be up in people’s faces. But the more time passes, the older, more bitter, more tired of pushy people, rude people, people who want to share their bad moods with me, the more I find myself finding my tongue.

I’m pretty sure some weeks hence I recommended letting things go, keeping stress down. Hypocrite I may be, but today, I advocate biggityness.

Maybe you know my neighbour, the poster girl for verbal assertion. If Nassau wasn’t so small, I’d call her name, though you’ve probably heard her already where her mouth so big. She talks as fast as a hillbilly auctioneer and can cuss your ass with a surgeon’s precision. Whether she’s chiding her bad chirren for bringing the po-pos by her home, upbraiding her cock-slinger husband for dragging his picky-head bastards up in her house, or damning her slack daughter for them pom-pom shorts, her mouth makes a Mac truck horn sound like a whisper. It doesn’t help that her voice is siren-shrill.

I don’t want to be her. But, increasingly, I believe in speaking up.

Lately, I feel like the law-abiding non-troublemakers feel so disgusted, distressed, and afraid of the levels that some people take assertiveness to that they have to overcompensate. Some people, yes, take aggression to terrible heights. It’s ridiculous to be so biggity you need to blow someone’s head off for borrowing your car.

Taking the other side of the scale, though, is by no means a guaranteed answer to the world’s ills. Confrontation, carefully used, clearly has its place. Witness the joys of Yo Mamma jokes, the Black American tracing tradition or, our own phrase, das ya ma (and all its glorious synonyms).

Equally valuable, equally vital, is the ability to be honest, to tell people how you feel. Sometimes the issues are small: sweetly letting that person who pushes in front of you in line know that actually, you were waiting too, not just standing there for pretty.

The restaurant incident was important to me because it not only involved telling the owner how his behaviour was disappointing and unacceptable, but also because it let me speak up in a way people tend to hear; with cash (or, in that case, the withdrawal of such). Maybe he was just having a bad day; maybe he won’t change his approach to customers. Either way, I can tell you this: I didn’t pay for crappy service and a stank attitude, and that made me feel damn good.


- ja**ly

[01.16] - Will The Real You/Me Please Stand Up?

If you have a current/former love who fluctuates between passion and psychosis, if you have a talented friend who shows signs of realizing it about thrice a decade, if you think you know yourself well, then suddenly find that your actions don’t match the label, this blog’s for you.

It’s for anyone who wonders if past actions, future goals, and present potential means anything, or if we are defined only by what we do and where we are right now.

The issue of amore seems to crop up too often, but it’s the easiest entry point into this topic, so here we go. Say you date someone wonderful, fantastic, pure carnal perfection. Suddenly they switch; out pop the horns, pitchfork, and spade with which they begin digging their pit of personal damnation. After the meltdown, you vaguely keep in touch, and you (rarely) see a glimmer of the old sweet saint. If you’re like me, you latch onto this redemptive glint and declare it evidence of the former them, the real them.

Finally, my point: The Real You (or Him, or Her). Just what is that? Do other points on the timeline matter at all, or is identity based solely on current actions?

I wonder this in relation to myself, too. I like to think I’m a fairly organized person. Then I glance around my abode. (Newspaper on the floor. Is that my good shirt under the couch? I spy with my little eye, a personal item on the dining table.) Likewise, I claim punctuality (a reputation I fight to maintain while running for the bus, two minutes late). I was these things, once, but moments of embarrassing clarity beg reassessment.

More importantly, more seriously, are deeper identity considerations. For instance, I want to be a writer. Well, obviously I write now, but my goal is to be the kind whose stuff shows up in bookstores, published on something other than dingy newsprint run off on my dusty Samsung printer. I’m reluctant to call myself Writer until a point of significant achievement has arrived. Artists-in-progress and musicians living with their parents way longer than normal may understand where I’m coming from.

I had a breakthrough recently, while chatting with a friend who’d just finished a great role in a play. As we discussed our plans for future fame, we came to an agreement: we’d start referring to ourselves as writer/actor, right then; no waiting for some future point of success.

Though neither of us had tuned recently into a Sunday morning preach-it show, I think we were getting at the same sentiment dancing pastors gasp out between shimmies and kicks; the doctrine of speak-it-into-being.

It’s a concept I’d like to cling to in my view of myself. While I don’t promote every catch-phrase that pours from a slick televangelist’s lips, this idea holds great value in one’s self-view. I know, and support, the ‘if you want to be a writer/actor/singer/inventor of funny hats, write/do your thing’ concept. But there’s something about claiming the future you want while you’re on the road to getting there. There’s similar value in remembering past personal successes; if I did well before, I’ll do well again.

When it comes to other people’s personalities, I’d rather let go of past pleasures and hold back on pre-emptive optimism, letting current actions paint current (though changeable) portraits. For myself, claiming the future me offers a confidence boost most of us could use. And I actually have agency in whether it comes to pass.

-ja**ly

[01.15] - Speak up or Shut up?

Without even trying, I can think of five people who tell it like it is. Always. Macaroni dry? New lover ugly? Pants cheesing? They’ll let you know. Often loudly.

In part I appreciate this honesty. I always know where I stand with such folk. I never have to ask their opinion on my spiritual beliefs, hairstyle, or the contents of my lunch container. Tactless? Often, yes. But they sure are gifted communicators.

Of course, there are a few benefits to having some sort of filter between brain and mouth. One can avoid arguments, enemies, and missing teeth by keeping certain thoughts to one's self. I wouldn’t tell a gold-toothed boxer that he could actually keep some of his earnings in the bank as cash. If I go on an interview and my potential employer has halitosis, I’m not gonna whip out the Tic Tacs and a gas mask.

But there are times I wish I’d spoken up, suggested a friend rethink a decision, voiced my thoughts about a bad idea at work. So, when should something be said, and when should it be kept inside?
Speak up

1. When no one else will say it
   Whether it’s a problem at work or a gentle mentioning to a family member that socks and sandals are not a winning match for that business suit, there’s a time to step up to the plate and say what no one else wants to. Sure, it’s awkward. But someone has to do it.
   
2. When your conscience bothers you
   If something nags at you, it probably means you need to spill the beans. Even if it’s not something nice you need to say, look on the bright side: you’re saving yourself stress. Go ahead and utter the necessary awkward words. You can always blame it on your quest to keep your pressure down.
   
3. When silence will make something your problem
   There’s a fine line one has to walk between supporting friends and their decisions and letting them know their choices are wack.
   
   When other people’s poor choices begin to affect me directly, it’s time to remove the kid gloves. Especially if it’s gonna be my door you’re banging on at 2am when you’re in trouble.

Shut up

1. When the point’s been made
   People often do stupid things. They date idiots. Marry idiots. Start crappy jobs, then embrace them as careers. Once you’ve suggested that something isn’t the best, don’t waste your breath. You can try to nag everyone into making great choices but you’ll probably find yourself very hoarse from constant talking, and probably alone.
   
2. When that ship has sailed.
   Once, I took a class where the teacher rescheduled our meeting times. I voiced my displeasure, but not very strongly, so the decision passed. I passed an inconvenient year—and never missed a chance to share my annoyance in any way short of a banner, foghorn, and ticker tape parade.
   Needless to say, it did little to enhance my grade.
   
3. When you need to sort out yourself.
   There’s nothing worse than realising, in the middle of spouting advice, that not only are you throwing stones from a large glass house, but you’re doing it in the nude.
   
   That doesn’t mean we should all say nothing for fear of glaring hypocrisy. By all means, encourage others to try for better. Just brace yourself for when they start in on what you’re doing wrong.

-ja**ly