Author: Bev

 I think when most people think of the introvert personality they think, in error – shyness, or more accurately, social avoidance. Social avoidance is one aspect of introversion, but we tend over time and with acceptance of our personality quirks, to grow adept at maneuvering around social occasions; because they’re indeed occasional by design, and not constant. We learn to prepare for social stimulus.

The personality trait I struggle most with, on the other hand, is a continuous barrage of thoughts and ideas – the forgotten stepchild of many an introvert personality. Even though ideas are our fuel, an incessant bevy of them can be as exhausting as making small talk for more than a minute.

My mindset seems to never tire, nor fully accommodate this bipolar pattern of “thought-sweat.” We’ve all heard someone say they’re mentally tired – that’s what I’m talking about; and this kind of exhaustion – the feeling of being spent, is every bit as legitimate as physical tiredness.

We introverted types are often pigeon-holed by others as quiet, all the time. In actuality, I’m at times, so mentally loquacious, I experience an enormous spillover compulsion and have to talk and talk and talk until I’ve spent everything that’s been building, brewing, stewing, steeping and growing inside me. Or I write.

Thank you, dear spouse for taking on the loving role of holding tank for my insights – and genuinely appreciating them. Part of what makes you – ambivert that you are – my perfect and forever partner, is the fact that you are sometimes the only person who gets my sarcastic humor and you understand my psychological need for space, often when your extrovert side wants “contact.”

Frequently, quiet times are the introvert’s moments of renewal for the next overflow of insight.   Silence prepares us for the energy needed to think imaginatively again.

Often, I’m overstimulated with ideas and exhausted by over-thinking. I cannot tell you how many properties over the years, I’ve imagined owning and re-imagined for one purpose or another; how many imaginary trips I’ve taken; jobs I’ve imagined; imaginary speeches I’ve made; academic programs I’ve completed – even dissertations I’ve written, in my imagination.

The flow of many an introvert’s imagination is incredible, thorough, detailed, structured, and full of possibility.  For example, in the blink of an eye, my thoughts might go like this:

• “There are so many things I would like to have been; it’s mind boggling. Like an English teacher. So, could have Mom. She was my model grammarian. I probably love writing because of her. Then there was that letter I received in the 9^th grade inviting me, “on good authority that I would make an excellent journalist,” to join the Press Club.
• I should have been a conservationist or preservationist like Beatrix Potter (also a notable writer – one of my favorites, and illustrator). I love nature; walking in nature, not hard-core hiking or backpacking or Appalachian-trail-type stuff, but strolling, pacing, or lollygagging, for the purpose of clearing my head, changing up the scenery, exercising, or generally hanging-out with God in the stuff He created.
• Speaking of God and creation – He created me an introvert – and that’s a good thing. I love that poetic Scripture from Psalms that says God wondrously knit me together in my mother’s womb. He made me the way I am, on purpose. I wonder why God gave me intuitive gifts, that seem not to bear fruit or benefit throngs of people.
• Speaking of people – I should like people more.   Truth be told, I actually love people, but prefer to love them in writing, not as much in person, or especially in groups.
• I frequently find myself wanting to be a medical professional, then I remember the blacking out at my several attempts to assist in the medical process.   I also remember that the fantasy of being in medicine is all I need to fulfill that psychological longing – (checkmark).”

I’m reminded that fantasy, a gift to us introverts, allows us to be all of those things we imagine. Similarly said of reading books, all one needs to be rich and full, is an extravagant, unrestrained imagination; visionary ideas; and brief indulgences in illusion.

Speaking of illusion – often when I’m walking in or near the woods in my neighborhood, I’ll see at a distance something that at first thought, is a wild animal; a deer, porcupine, weasel, fox or bear, only to be corrected when up close, the animal turns out to be an overhanging branch clinging to dead leaves or a clump of dried grasses; or a black, Angus cow, escaped from a nearby farm. But the illusion, like any fantasy provided a rush of possibility; and along with it a spark of hope, in general.

With time, learning, and the gift of acceptance, I’m relinquishing the slippery slope from fleeting, creative fantasy to a deeply fixed and fanciful belief, or delusion. Having gone through an intense period of fundamentalist Christianity (traits which carry over to any fundamentalist tradition – Christian, Muslim, political liberalism or conservatism), I developed firm convictions and walked around in complete confidence in the truth of my beliefs; only to come around to a more peace-led, balanced system that celebrates my fallible imagination, gifted by God-within. I’m humbler now, and liberated.

I’ve settled, not unhappily nor by the acceptance of a lesser state, on being a generalist, not a specialist – and to write about everything, anything, that comes to mind – and that’s a lot. So, I’m a personal essayist – it’s settled.

There is a point when I come to a complete halt – experience a tilt in the pinball machine of my mind or hear the buzzer of an off-balance washing machine. I can’t take anymore thought and have to find my feet or hit the ground, whichever process stops the abundance of ideas swirling around inside me.

The things that bring me out of the overflow – once reverie, of thoughts that have turned brown and limp, troublesome, and empty, are chores or jobs that are mundane, un-skilled, and I’m sadly good at, but productive, concrete, “sh—work” – like hand washing dishes, doing laundry, cleaning anything, reorganizing a closet, tidying up a room, sorting papers, answering a matter-of-fact email or prioritizing or obliterating my inbox of tasks I didn’t have the emotional energy to deal with yesterday or last week.

The spigot has effectively been turned off – for now. It’s time for quiet and respite – until next time.

“Moss village”

I was thinking about the Greater One (God, the Provident, Sovereign, Leader of my life) dwelling inside me and bugger if a clear example didn’t present itself.

Sunday evening I had intended to watch Victoria on PBS.  Poised to watch, with auto-tune at the ready, a familiar and dastardly message came across the Channel 3 screen.  The notice, bounding across the television was the “don’t call us” we’re having technical difficulties and will resume airing scheduled programs when the problem is resolved, message.

My experience with this message is that programming doesn’t return anytime soon.  I was annoyed.

My brain, growing older, rebels slightly when I have to turn on a dime – turn my focus, change my mind, or redirect my attention.  I try to exercise flexibility, both mental and physical, but it takes effort – when it was once fairly automatic.

So, I turned the channel to a show I hadn’t watched in a while, preferring Victoria, in that time slot.  It was NCIS: Los Angeles.  I figured I could watch Victoria online later in the week or maybe catch a re-run.

As it turned out, that NCIS episode was the last performance of Miguel Ferrer (Owen Granger), taped before his January passing from throat cancer.  Having seen a few episodes over the last year, I noticed Ferrer had been increasingly (authentically as Ferrer, not in character as Granger) slurring his words.  I assumed that maybe he had a mild stroke but I hadn’t taken the time to google it to confirm.

This episode had Granger, in the hospital, in stable condition after an agency-wide attack.  His slurred speech had accelerated dramatically.  Good move CBS.

At any rate, I googled Ferrer Monday morning and learned the facts about his passing.  I instantly felt a twinge of gratitude for the PBS station guffaw Sunday evening and my re-direction to watch NCIS: Los Angeles.  I was thankful to have seen that special episode.

I know, to some people, what I’m going to write next may seem a bit of a stretch of the imagination, but, whatever.  I think, as insignificant in the scheme of things (life and death); that redirected television schedule was in a small way a divine navigational re-direct.  Not monumental or earth shattering, but kind and helpful and a good-hearted dance-move from the divine.

If I hadn’t noticed that same kind of redirection in a truly significant way in others – strangers, I wouldn’t have even picked up on it Sunday evening.  Many people label this kind of thing and file it under “things happen for a reason.”

I’m not a fan of that phrase because it seems redundant – this coming from a woman that can see meaning in just about everything.  Of course, things happen for a reason – somebody’s reason, ultimately, probably God’s provident reason.

For example, when people have been delayed in getting out the door, late for a meeting or for work, or an event of some sort – and were mightily annoyed by it, to find out that in being late, they missed a fatal pile-up on the highway they would have taken.  Or, the missed flight that crashed.  Or, the sickness that kept them home from work at their twin towers office, on the day they fell.

God-within, God-led, not-your-time-yet providence.

 

 

I celebrate Easter, or Resurrection Day, as I’ve called it for decades, all year long.  One of my spiritually defining Scriptures and a personal favorite is Romans 8:11, personalized: The same Spirit that raised Christ from the dead, dwells in me.

I often pray, “more He, and less me;” and ask the Holy Spirit to rise up and take His appropriate place in the lead.  Romans 8:11 humbles me, and rightly so.

Speaking of humility – many years ago, during a time of particularly oppressive circumstances that brought us low in spirit, my husband heard God say, “get your head out of your a–, and look up.”  It was startling, but not altogether surprising to hear that from God; for, that’s the kind of relationship we both have with God – we’re frank with Him and He’s frank with us.

Those circumstances were more akin to humiliating, than humbling.  The difference between the two is, humiliation is a state of degradation imposed on someone by an outside force, usually other people.  One is made to feel like dirt: stepped on, ground down, dismissed as useless, unwanted, unclean, and unworthy, via the process of humiliation.

Humility, on the other hand is often a relational condition of enlightenment; specifically the recognition that there is Someone (God), Who is greater (I John 4:4 – Greater is He Who’s in me, than he who’s in the world.), more powerful, deserving and in control over me, myself, and I.  The Latin root of the word humility, is humus.

Humus, unlike dirt, is a mandatory substance to the fertility of the earth.  It’s the dark, sweet smelling, organic soil, produced by decayed vegetable or animal matter.  It’s good dirt.

If we never grasp humility – which involves letting some decaying things in our way, die, decompose and develop via the circle of life (birth-growth-decomposition-death), we will have gone far in limiting our potential productivity, fertility, and usefulness to this earth.  So, “Rise up in me Holy Spirit.  More He and less me.  I agree with Romans 8:37, I am more than a conqueror, through Christ Who strengthens me.  Amen.”

Happy Resurrection!

It’s been a lot of years since I taught Introduction to Sociology; Cultural Anthropology;
American Subcultures; Marriage and the Family; Human Sexuality, Social Problems, and other sociology courses.  But, when recently re-reading Michel de Montaigne’s (1533-1592) Of Books – particularly the section about history writing and bias, it brought me back to some sociology basics that we seem to have forgotten in the United States: stereotyping, prejudice, racism, bigotry and bias.

Surely these foundational definitions of core social problems haven’t changed even though
I haven’t kept up with the field. But, it seems from my view of our culture, we have not only run
away with the ball on the matter of these basic attitudes of social in-decency; we’ve moved the
game to another playing field altogether. I would swear from the social atmosphere in the United
States these days that no one has taken Sociology 101; or today’s Professors and Instructors have
overlooked these basics.

Some exceptional individuals make a profound effort to show kindness and openness
toward others; but the herd, led by arrogant and headstrong rams, seems intent on twisting the
social narrative toward a distinct, self-hating bias. I think, by observation of this social (media,
news, and journalistic) phenomena, that most Americans are believed to be dull, unlearned, and
unaware of the difference between our toes and our tongues.

Given, our basic stupidity, everyday-pundits carefully choose and spoon-feed to us things
worth knowing, in their estimation. This information is far from “pure and entire in all its
dimensions” (Montaigne), but has been “arranged,” “abridged,” and dumbed-down so as to instruct a population of dunces; or so it seems.

Now – for the Refresher Course; the following core concepts, social problems – consequently all of which are essentially synonymous with each other, and presented in the negative, because they are things to avoid in order to enjoy social health and well-being – are typically covered in the first week of Introduction to Sociology:

1. Define STEREOTYPE
A. A set of biased generalizations about a group or category of people that is unfavorable, exaggerated, and oversimplified.
B. It is characteristic of all human thought to categorize and generalize, beyond the facts, about members of categories.
C. But, STEREOTYPING emphasizes negative characteristics, and preconceived beliefs are emotionally toned and NOT usually modifiable by empirical evidence!
D. Although INACCURATE, a stereotyped belief is maintained because it is a SHARED BELIEF (can you say Facebook?), receiving strong support from one’s reference group (family, friends, and other people who matter to you)

On September 27, 2016, at the height of election year fervor, I posted the following on my
Facebook timeline: “Remember – a bigot is ANYBODY who is intolerant of a different creed or opinion than your own (Republican, Democrat, Independent, Christian, Muslim, Atheist, Jew, liberal, conservative…).

Your opinion is neither right nor wrong; neither good or bad; and neither smart nor dumb, it’s just your opinion.

Don’t polarize people – ALL of whom are made in God’s image, by being a bigot. (praying hands
meme)
INSERT Dictionary.com link for the definition of bigot

“Furthermore, don’t disparage people for disagreeing with your point of view. We can disagree without ridiculing, belittling, or character assassination. This might just be a case-study in blessing your ‘enemy’ (Matthew 5:44) – choose to disagree and go with God.”

How many “likes” do you think I got? One. Yes, one. Apparently, the emphasis on free speech –
any speech, overrides the emphasis on decency, kindness, or graciousness toward our fellow inhabitants of this planet.

Decency, like beauty, must be in the eye of the beholder. It depends entirely on the standard to
which one holds oneself and one’s reference group. It seems that hip-hop and reality television culture
are the new standard for social interaction in the United States. The words, descriptions and tone directed toward public figures with whom individuals disagree are vitriolic, mean-spirited, demeaning or dehumanizing, undignified and vengeful to say the least.

We Americans are proud of our voice. We enjoy the freedom to speak our minds and to protest
against opinions which we oppose. But must we use our voice to destroy? Stereotyping emphasizes
negativity, tearing down, and destruction.

2. Define BIAS
A. The systematic distortion of data which influences thought or outcomes and which increases the likelihood of obtaining one outcome over another.
B. A conditioned tendency to favor and support a certain point of view or conclusion despite the absence of adequate or even any evidence; a disposition to reject evidence that conflicts with a preconceived conviction.

Montaigne describes bias in history writers, as the use of
• concealment of a given word or action;
• omission of information one doesn’t understand or know how to describe;
• arrangement or abridgement of materials so as to manipulate or turn the hearer or reader toward a preferred judgment.

He says these biased writers “want to chew our morsels for us; they give themselves the right to judge, and consequently to slant history to their fancy.”

This reminds me of a scene from the movie, My Cousin Vinny, when after struggling through
unfamiliar courtroom territory, Vinny approaches his nemesis, the judge with “a well-thought out,
cogent argument” that the judge forthwith acknowledges but denies with a firm – “over-ruled.” This is what stereotyping and bias do with contrary evidence to one’s views – over-ruled.

3. Define PREJUDICE
A. Prejudice exists wherever there is hostility toward an out-group, it can be held by oppressive majorities or persecuted minorities and is in good part due to a lack of communication and not sharing a common life; and is based on stereotypes.

“Deplorables,” comes to mind, as it was used during the 2016 United States political debate. It’s the hostility of prejudice that seems to have permeated the social fabric of the United States. We are an angry bunch. Social status seems to have little to do with our rage; every segment of society seems to have joined an angry mob of like-minded protestors – again with the “like” button on Facebook.

Where is common decency? I’ve yet to find the origins of the phrase – common decency.
However, I believe it can be broken down to mean – conformity to an established or recognized standard for human dignity and respectability (including self-respect).

Are we Americans so entrenched in critically challenging a national identity we are no longer loyal to, or love? Have we so criticized every tenet of our heritage that we lack a current identity with it? With so much self-hate, can we even hope to respect or I dare say, love, others who dwell in a different intellectual, social, or cultural space than our own?

Maybe we could begin by applying a bit of transference and begin to hate stereotyping, prejudice, bias, and all the hateful isms. As to the people who have been the object of the hateful isms we might apply the biblical precept, “love your neighbor as you love yourself” (Mark 12:31). The problem with this Scripture is that we don’t love ourselves. I’m sort of appalled that so many Americans hate America. How can we respect someone quite different from us when we have no self-respect?

Then there’s the one about hate stirring up conflict and contention, but “love covers all sin” (I Peter 4:8 and Proverbs 10:12). If the word sin trips you up – what with defining it and all; and to put the
plethora of self-hate and personal condemnation aside; let’s just say love covers.

Love blankets everything the eye can see, with kindness and goodness – it’s all covered. We need no longer consider what’s under the covers when love has covered it – it’s not there.

Surely, we must start with self-respect and a repeal of our identity of victim-hood. Can we humble
ourselves and surrender the rights we’ve felt so raped of? Like the three musketeers, can America be all for one and one for all – reclaiming the standard which our country was founded on?

Have you ever noticed that when you have a loved one in a group that you would otherwise
ridicule or hate, you overlook that particular object of hate? That is what the Bible means when it says
love covers sin. If you love a fat person you can’t hate fat people. If you love an illegal immigrant, you
will not hate illegal immigrants. If you love a Jew, you won’t hate Jews. If you love a black person you
can’t hate blacks. If you love a homeless person, or an addict, or a transgender human being you simply
won’t hate those groups. That’s love covering or replacing hate, because in these cases of loved ones
occupying those groups – you KNOW at least one human heart covered in a category. This makes all the difference in the world.

In the 2014 movie, Pride, a misfit and ragtag group of lesbians and gays, loosely organized but
unfocused, come up with the novel idea to reach out to a similar out-group (but seriously different from them) – needy, striking miners. They raise money to help the miners with food and living expenses during a yearlong (1984-1985) British mining strike, ending up close compatriots for life in spite of their formerly conflicting lifestyles.

This lesbian/gay and miner alliance provides a prototype for what could be sloganned a HUG
YOUR HATERS or KILL THEM WITH KINDNESS (Romans 12:20) campaign. We should similarly challenge our nation’s leaders to begin a movement in kind. Wouldn’t it be amazing if at the start of each congressional session, it was mandatory for every leader from one side to literally reach across the aisle toward their arch-enemy on the opposite side – a heart-felt hug, across the chasm of human difference, to begin the debate aright? At the very least, it might start the session with laughter instead of vitriol; a sense of humor being the best medicine for a brokenhearted nation.

Let’s pretend we hear the voice of America’s mom, saying to her leader- children: “Go over there
and hug them; and mean it. Don’t come back until you’ve become colleagues, in the best sense of the
word, you’ve worked out your differences and resolved this ridiculous, childish behavior. I want to see you only when you can speak nicely to them and about them. I mean it!” How about for the higher purpose of a nation united (haven’t we been promised this again and again) – even the ultimate leaders, Hillary Clinton and President-elect Trump, hug it out – and mean it!

Imagine if every individual searched out a person representing the out-group of human beings
they love to hate, and hugged them, not leaving until they can see the dignity residing in that human soul and embrace the humanity they have in common. Wouldn’t it be cool for the United States to be recognized around the world as the new world of kindness, respect, and love toward others?

Let’s be leaders and do everything in our considerable power to alleviate our culture of the burden of hate, stereotyping, prejudice, bias, bigotry, and all isms in our considerable and growing arsenal. Our national priority should be killing these cultural demons – with kindness and love as our weapons.

Figurative “Mom” is challenging media opinion makers to think before you speak. Be honest,
does your language incite hate? Are you embracing a stereotype, with your speech? Are you truthful,
with an overtone of kindness and generosity toward the object of your honesty? Are you building up or are you destroying your culture with your language? Do you love America with all its Americans? Or are you trapped, and keeping those you influence trapped, in self-hatred and contributing to a cultural identity crisis?

You make the call. Is it quid pro quo – as usual, keeping the divisive cycle of hate going? Or, can
you do the better thing, the harder thing (no different than fake it ‘til you make it, or forcing a smile through tears, to battle sadness), and HUG A HATER, and mean it.

It starts with humility. It takes tremendous strength of character to humble yourself before an enemy; to let your defenses down to shatter the barriers. Are America and her American’s strong and of good character or are we all smoke and mirrors; a facade or image of what we once were?

The old me, who is by the way the same me as now, but receding – would have immediately hung up the phone and fired off an instructive, detailed complaint telling that company their customer service sucks.  However, the current me – the old me receding ever deeper into the past, repented for my total disregard for kindness toward that woman on the phone, just doing her job.  I decided to let it go.

Don’t get me wrong, I haven’t completely transformed.  I mulled over and over in my thoughts, the precise words I could write, persuading that company into changing their policy to always, close every phone call with, “Is there anything else we can do for you today?”

It’s meant to sound helpful and welcoming, but it couldn’t be more impersonal and nonspecific.  After all you called them in the first place regarding a specific issue you’re having with them – specifically, their product, service, etc.

I mean, is there anything more infuriating, after you’ve given your detailed spiel, problem, and plea for help to fix a problem than for the person on the other end of the phone-line to say some version of, “I’m sorry, we can’t help you with that, is there anything else we can do for you?“

“I didn’t call you for something else, I called you for this.  Why would I want you to help me with something else when you failed miserably to help me with what might have been in your power to help me with?” – This is what you want to say.

Scream – helpless, now-silent scream.

Yes, sir or ma’am, you can help me with something else.  Will you pick up some milk for me?  Oh, and the tires need rotating on the van.  The light bulb, one of those fancy ones with the smaller twisty insert just blew in the bathroom chandelier.  Speaking of lights, the one in our closet must have a spring in it because when we pull the chain to turn it on or off, sometimes it does nothing, sort of chokes – so we have to come back later, after some magical release allows us to turn it on or off.  Could you pick up a new one for me?  I’ve stumbled around in the dark too many times, just trying to pick out a pair of pants.  The recycling needs taken to the bin, and my desk drawer – the one with the keyboard, needs totally rebuilt – it gets stuck every time I try to shut it.  Since I need to take an hour and $36 to fix the problem you were unable to help me with, maybe you could do these other things on my list for today.  How about it?  Oh, is there anything I can do for you?

This reminds me a bit of a quote attributed to Mark Wahlburg that went around on FB recently about Hollywood celebrities – actors and musicians, who live in a bubble but feel free to counsel and instruct us ordinary humans how to think and about what we need to do to live our lives.  He went on to say that just because we buy their music or go to their movies gives them no insight into what we have to do to put food on the table or make a living.

I believe this same kind of thinking goes into the customer service policy I described above.  The presumption is that I will continue to feel good about their company when they don’t help me solve a problem with their product or service, if they offer something, anything more, in return.  It appears that they’re doing everything they can to serve us.  In reality, however, they’re doing everything they can to sell us more of their product and service and make us feel good about buying it.

It’s marketing – not a service nor a kindness.

Then there’s the bastardization of the once pleasant but long ago trite farewell, “have a nice day.”  Have you noticed how similar to – “how ya doing?” “how are you?” and “what’s up?” – “have a nice day,” lacks sincerity?  Lol

Most people don’t really expect a response to these, once sincere, questions.  They ask, how ya doing (no longer a question requiring an answer) and keep walking and doing their business.  They don’t want a litany of ailments, a story of your unpaid bills, a line by line account of your mistreatment by a customer service agent or anything other than, “fine, how are you,” as you both move on with your day.

But, with “have a nice day;” it’s gotten twisted to the point that the whole phrase is an antonym, used to insult someone after verbally or circumstantially assaulting them – a social-verbal slap in the face.  For example, “Here’s your speeding citation.  You have yourself a nice day.”  Hasn’t that ship already sailed?

Or, “this $3,000 dental procedure isn’t covered by your insurance, nor can it be applied to your annual deductible or out of pocket total – have a nice day.”  Or, “I’m sorry your $5,000 appliance completely failed on day 366 from your purchase date and we cannot cover it under the warranty, but for $79.99 we can set you up with a protection plan.  Have a nice day.”

No thank you, you reply – holding back tears and your flailing arms – perched to punch her/him in the face; and he/she closes the encounter with – “Is there anything else we can do for you today?”  To which, you meekly whisper in defeat, “No, thank you” (thanking them for nothing, but trying with all that’s in you to be kind).  And they say, “Have a nice day.” 🙂

Just Sayin’

With all the talking, chatter, expounding, and expressing our opinions that goes with the open-ended cultural territory we all inhabit these days, it’s no wonder, just sayin’ is a popular linguistic add-on to many a modern conversation. Being a personal essayist, I am no exception.

I’m guilty of using the phrase and so is my ten-year-old nearly-step grandson – in one of his first texts to me using his newly gifted cell phone. It’s a profuse and ubiquitous concept and linguistic aid. Now I shall break it down.

“What’s on your mind?” Asks Facebook. To which, many FB members respond with a photo, a memory, a meme, a quote, a fleeting thought, a suggestion, prayer, advice, or simply an observation about the day, life, news, politics, the weather, and more.

Bloggers – online diarists, many of us, overshare as a career. We self-disclose with abandon, for a living. I guess it’s the definition of overshare that perhaps has changed. It was once called diarrhea of the mouth.   Just sayin’ implies anything goes, as well as, “the more the merrier” – talk, talk, talk, talk. It’s an information glut – wisdom; not so much, not so often.

FREE SPEECH –

The first amendment to our Constitution gives every American freedom to speak and to write, without government interference. But, is there no restraint of another kind governing the content or the extent of our speech? I’m not sure. This might be a problem.

I recently binge-watched the first season of The Crown, on Netflix. A striking cinematic and relational contrast was established on screen between the two sisters, Elizabeth (the Queen) and Margaret. The Queen because of several things, not least of which is her anointing as head of the Church of England, and her sworn duty to the people of the United Kingdom, over which her government presides – appears stuffy, self-important, relationally distant, and insecure without the advice and coaching of one or another government official. Her sister, on the other hand, without a role of such magnitude, has the luxury and freedom to be fun-loving, individualistic, sarcastic, jovial, even frivolous in her doings and in her speech

Margaret is considered the real and likable one, and Elizabeth, unembodied by sentiment or individuality of any sort is the stern, unimaginative, serious sister, by comparison.   In fact, the Queen was forbidden by the Prime Minister (Churchill) as well as her grandmother (Queen Mary) to ever show individuality – she was to remain always, the Crown, and none other.

As to speech, the contrast between the sisters, was evidenced by restraint and duty to country above all else in Elizabeth, versus no holds barred, just sayin’ ramblings of a privileged individual in Margaret; that privilege, granted to her by the Crown itself. Both sisters by virtue of their royal birth had the right to expound publicly. However, Elizabeth’s restraint, even her silence is considered her primary role as Sovereign.

We Americans, known for our independent and individualistic spirit, relate more readily to Margaret, and later to Diana (the people’s princess). We don’t understand Elizabeth’s restraint, silence, or duty to something higher than herself – we really don’t get it; we don’t get her and wish her to just loosen up. We’re the epitome of the self-centered, just sayin’ lifestyle.

GLUT OF EXPERTS –

Thus, the rise, in the U.S. of the self-proclaimed expert. When I was growing up, it was understood that an expert was someone with advanced knowledge or experience in a subject or exceptional skill and ability in a field.   These people, few in number compared to ordinary folks, were sought for their expertise. Today, it seems that experts are everywhere and advanced education or years of experience have little to do with their platforms, popularity, or influence.

Television personalities judge fashion, with no more expertise nor taste than some of my more sophisticated neighbors and acquaintances. Hip-hop artists tell us what booze to drink and how big our bums and boobs should be. Reality stars of “leaked” sex tapes tell us how to grow our brand; and live decadent, consumer-rich lifestyles – while collecting hefty pay-checks from the networks and products who sponsor them. Movie and television personalities, some of them actors by trade, coach us on everything from how to dress, what to eat, who to vote for, how to look like them, what cars to drive, how to raise our children, and which credit cards to carry – all while themselves living in a bubble in a far, far away land, securely ensconced away from us.

Of course, we knew the personal exploits of movie stars from a generation ago – Marilyn Monroe, Liz Taylor, Richard Burton, and so on, but they weren’t walking infomercials like contemporary celebrities. Gone – or at least out of the lime-light, are experts by virtue of their education or years of experience; to be replaced by a category of human being called an opinion-maker.

Opinion-journalism of the twenty-first century is now the norm, with objective reporting no longer even a difficult to obtain goal.   I was taught in high school English, the importance of maintaining objective distance when reporting the news.   There was a boundary between debate, opinion, and news.

Evidence and verification of journalistic speech is no longer part of the long, long ago, accepted pseudo-scientific-method of journalism.   Now, most news resembles the gossip column of old. The new buzzword in journalism is transparency – a fancy word for telling it like it is from one point of view (using facts to support that perspective only) – neutrality be damned. Let the buyer (audience) beware, I guess. Do I buy it? Good, if yes. Go screw yourself, if no. In other words, it’s okay to be biased in reporting if you’re clearly biased – making sure that one’s bias is open and obvious is the only restraint needed.

IN CONCLUSION –

Another use of the just sayin’ suffix, is in the vein of the, “no offense, but…” criticism. For example, “no offense, but your hair is so 1990, you would look cute with so-and-so’s haircut.” It’s a form of masking or softening a critical or snipey* comment, so as not to be perceived as critical, bitchy, or a snipey* human being.   After all, “I’m just sayin’!

(*Author’s note – spell-checker, auto-correct and other such monitors of my English grammar, syntax, and such does not like the word snipey, which I made up. I like it so I added it to my dictionary – just sayin’.)

Happy 2017 ya’ll:)

 

A few years ago I noticed that grandma’s attention span narrowed when after a holiday dinner and a game or two, she was ready to go home to get into her nightgown and “relax.”  Gone were the hours spent in conversation, lingering at the table, after dinner.

I’m getting grandma more and more as the years pass.

Don’t make me go to a movie, the theater or any other extended, confined, indoor event where I can’t wander off if so inclined.

Speaking of wandering off.  My daughter and I went shopping together a while back – a rare event, the last few years.  We had a great time.  I bought random things that I sort of needed for a long time but the occasion hadn’t presented just the right items in my path, like this time.  We laughed that, for us, we were buying a ridiculous amount of random stuff (gotta love Ross!).

She said, a couple of times that while she was browsing (something I’m not great at, preferring the more pointedly targeted, get-what’s-on-the-list kind of shopping), “I turned around to say something to you and you had wandered off.”  She giggled and so did I.  It was true.

You see – I knew this.  It’s not like Alzheimer’s or dementia.  I knew full-well that I had wandered away.  It was because I lost interest in our relatively stationary position.

I needed “something else” to see.  I needed to move on to the “next.”

My “problem” is being still.  I get restless.  Maybe I’ve reverted to three-year-old parallel play behaviors.  I was engaged with my daughter in shopping, enjoying our time together but I had to broaden my scope of browsing compared to her more prolonged focus.

I enjoyed our time “together” enormously, but needed moments of separation to give the togetherness meaning, I guess.

I love the pause button.  I don’t like to be forced to sit still for long.  I need to get up frequently to divert my attention – to spread it around.

I like to be alone from time to time – on a daily basis.  I like quiet with solitude, regularly.  But stillness – not so much; it has a time limit until I get antsy.

Maybe that’s why I prefer books with lots of subheadings, and/or short chapters (I could easily read War and Peace if it followed this requirement).  I need to get up frequently to stretch my legs, get a snack or drink, maybe answer an email or do some business, wash dishes or do laundry before coming back to it (without losing the continuity of thought).

After a meal I like to get up, for instance, to prepare dessert and serve it or refresh drinks, etc. – anything to shake up the monotony that creeps in (it’s not you, it’s me:)).

Games after dinner work for me.  They keep things moving.

Then, I crash.  I, like grandma before me, like to put pj’s on and chill with my own company, ideally in front of the fireplace and a burning candle, to recharge.  Awhhh.

Is a waning attention span yet another aspect of some patterns of aging that nobody ever told us about?  It might be just me.  But, when I saw the miniature pattern of it (myself and grandma), it makes me wonder if it’s universal in at least some aging personalities (maybe the introvert personality)?

Please don’t get all clinical and tell me there’s something wrong with my brain.  I’d much prefer to stick with my usual pattern of thinking and standard psychological defense for anything in my personal behavioral arsenal that I observe and write about: “this is just a variation of normal.”