The Possibility Of Assholery

Assholery is not an actual word per the uptight, ungroomed editors of Wikipedia and Websters. But I use the word to describe the general activity of people who are unaware, negligent, narcissistic (on the first try!), and on the whole, unpleasant. An unpleasant hole. Full of crap, hot air, ungroomed, bad oils. Asshole. And it takes one to know one.

I know this because I can be the biggest asshole in the room at any given time. I don't like to be. Being an asshole is a pro-active thing, not reactive, unless the reaction is over-the-top and uncalled for. But being an asshole carries two interesting traits: No "asshole throttle," and total asshole apathy. Simply not caring how big of an asshole you are being.

I don't try to be an a-hole nearly enough. I think there's a point when my cage needs to be rattled by a demonstration of assholery, and likewise to those around. There's no greater salve for complacency than an asshole's outburst. To mope, slope, and slog around as if there are no consequences for one's inactivity or apathetic life is a social welfare check; "It's fine to be bad at what you do, not pay attention, and speak like a juvenile idiot." No.
No it's not.

If somebody's side-holing your day, let 'em know. I work with a guy who works so mercilessly slow and methodically that it slows everybody else down. When I finally told him that I couldn't attend his meetings because we were 2 days behind due to his pace, he reacted as if I'd spent the morning reclined in his bed while his wife's perm bobbed on my knob. Fine, he thinks I'm an asshole. The days that followed saw him dash his repetitive meetings and free up a lot of people's time. In turn, WE GOT SHIT DONE. It was simple honesty and being forthright. America has lost much of its "BS Barometer" due to the creep of Political Correctness, causing us to never want to offend somebody.

Say whatever you gotta say, knowing that you may look like an asshole on somebody's sliding scale of Assholery. But don't hold back if it's the right thing to do. You can only be shat on for so long before being shat on is your fault. I think that's in the Old Testament. The worst somebody can legally do is fire-back a big "F You!" If you can take that hit, you're on your way to a special place in the Assholes of All Time.


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MC, HOST, CORPORATE, COMEDY, SEATTLE, GEOFF, LOTT

A Bus Ride To Downtown Perspective

This morning I walked outta my place without getting to moosh the face of my son, had a good-bye kiss from my wife, and about 5 minutes to hoof it a half mile to the bus stop. Just after 7a.m. it was about 22 degrees. So said the display across from my bus stop at the fitness club when I arrived. But I was up for the challenge having missed the 5:15am workout.

I had to do 2 short jogs to make it on time, which isn't easy in moderately-cushioned lace-ups with a 15lb backpack. Save your military story about humping a 90lb pack through the shit, I'm not enlisted, I understand perspective... MOVING ON... I arrived at my stop about 45 seconds before the bus did. Missing it would result in waiting 15minutes for the next one. 15minutes x 22degrees = 5 hours, so my hustle was rewarded.

As I stood there fishing out my change, a dark Suburban with tinted windows rolled up. I thought for sure that They'd finally come for me, after all my subversion and subterfuge, it was time... the TSA had come to screw up my morning! Instead, a petite gal in a nice outfit hopped as the bus pulled up behind her ride. She shot a "Yeah, thanks" over her shoulder as I moved toward the bus, happy to not be waiting out here, and thinking she wasn't really hearty enough to handle the cold, the walk, nor the rigors of a 20-hour work-week.

So I pay my fare and move to a seat when I hear the gal who was not willing to catch the bus elsewhere, nor walk-to, nor wait-at the bus stop, tell the driver "Oh what? The fares went up? Gawl..."
Yeah. They went up a quarter. They went up to make some money back that people like this chick... CUTTING TO THE CHASE...

I really should have said "You just got dropped off while I walked a half mile in sub-freezing temperatures," and let her process that while she grumped about how awful that she should have to work, being white and somewhat attractive. I hope her work with underprivileged, walking youth whose parents only drive sedans is fulfilling.

Either I got easily red-assed over this chick's inability to equate a car ride in bad weather to being worth an extra quarter and I mis-read the situation and acting "holier than thou," or she's a turd.

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MC, HOST, CORPORATE, COMEDY, SEATTLE, GEOFF, LOTT

Communication Degree, part 1

TV was on, so I came in and MUTED it for a second.
It had been on most of the day, as I went room to room with laundry or what-not, and the NFL provided a nice soundtrack. I was busy all day. All day.
All F'ing day.

Wife, in the kitchen, had returned from a quick trip East for wine re-con, returned with 3 botts I can't wait to go belly-first into. DE-LISH.

So I MUTE the teev, and say "aaah, quiet, that's nice."

"What? What do you mean?"

"I mean the quiet, it's nice, it's a nice break to have a little quiet."

"So, what, I'm making all the noise?"

"No, it's just nice to have the quiet. Which now we don't have, ironically."

"I wasn't making all the noise, I was watching a TV show."

"I know (head spinning at the ridiculousness of this)... "

Long story short, I love PERSPECTIVE. It is the litmus, the acid-test of a moment. Feel good and recognize it? Because you've felt bad before, that's why, so enjoy it.

Sun warming your back? Because you've been cooled by the shadows, is why.

Brain and body feel calmer with the peace and quiet? Because the constant noise of the TV and the commercials was vibrating in you at an unpleasant frequency, that's why.

And I couldn't even have that. I wasn't allowed to. I had to explain myself.
I had to explain why I liked the quiet. I had to talk, outloud, about my feelings about the QUIET.
I had to zombie-stomp what I needed in order to explain why I needed it, justifying my need for it while it resounded in the ears of the person who couldn't underF'ingstand why I would need it, and why, for the love of Manilow... I WOULD DARE EXPRESS MY FEELINGS ABOUT IT.

Next time I need to say something, I'm gonna do the right thing, and keep my mouth shut.


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