I try to start out every year with positive, though cautious, optimism. With the coming of each New Year, I try to fight back many generations’ worth of genetically-programmed cynicism. I am proud to say that, this year, I made it one week. True, it may have been my month-long bout with the flu that soured my disposition this year but, regardless of the cause, I have come to realize that the world is chock full of people I’d just like to smack rather hard.
Now, I realize that sounds a bit harsh, but what better way to burn off all the latent hostilities that build up over the course of the day? The first candidate that comes to mind is that guy that always merges with a 70 m.p.h. interstate at 40 then, when he’s disrupted traffic as much as possible, takes off at twice the speed of sense. Close behind him is the engineer who designed my vehicle. Would it have killed the people at G.M. to put a slightly larger bottle under the hood to accommodate a full gallon jug of washer fluid, rather than the 126 ounces it annoyingly holds?
Recently, I was watching a game show with my wife, when the question “Which Soviet Premier was responsible for Glasnost and Perestroika?” came up. The person being asked was my age, approximately, so I figured she had it in the bag.
Her answer was ‘Bin Laden’.
Still clinging to my optimism that this was an isolated aberration and that the ‘No Child Left Behind’ initiative was alive and well, I stayed with the show long enough to catch the answers to a few more questions. The ordeal was extremely painful. Apparently, there are polar bears in Antarctica, China borders the United States to the north, and Bill Clinton was impeached for the Watergate scandal.
You wait here while I go get a heavy club.
Hostility and impatience are in our very nature, surfacing in even the most unsuspecting individuals. Sometimes it is subtle; a twitch of the eye or an annoyed inflection in the voice are our only clues. Sometimes, it is an explosion, erupting violently, either verbally or, in the worst case, physically.
We frequently use the term ‘pushing his/her buttons’ when we talk of annoying someone. Perhaps we shouldn’t be so casual about it. ‘Pushing buttons’ turns it all into a game; the prize being the display put on by the newly annoyed and/or irate victim. By my observations, the ‘hostility control’ is actually a switch and, in some cases, one of the ‘momentary contact’ variety.
Take, as a case study, subject ‘D’. Subject ‘D’ is a friend of mine who wouldn’t consciously harm an insect. She once cried for nearly 24 hours when she accidentally drowned a spider. To speak to subject ‘D’, you would think you were talking to the nicest person on the planet. However, in the midst of a number of cell phone conversations, she will burst into a directed tirade of harsh language and other discouraging words to the motorists around her on the open road, only to return to her normal self in the next breath. The scary part is not that she becomes so hostile so quickly, but that, when the switch is turned off, she returns to the conversation and her natural, sweet tone with no sign that anything happened. The transformation is casual: From ‘Doctor Jekyll’ to ‘Miss Road Rage’ in .025 seconds.
In this casualness, Subject ‘D’ is not alone. Though the transition is not so smooth, I have caught myself doing the Bipolar Shuffle on many occasions, as with my ever-growing ‘People I’d Love to Smack’ list. Just because neither I nor subject ‘D’ allow our rantings to escalate doesn’t detract from the potential hazards of uninhibited release. That’s how we get road rage shootings and sports-related riots. That’s how we have abuse and domestic violence. That’s how we start wars.
Hostility is something we can’t run away from. As I said before, it’s in our basic makeup, as part of our ‘fight or flight’ response. As (supposedly) intelligent life forms, it should be within us to control the need to act on these impulses. Just because the neighbor decides to build a ten foot tall bonfire to roast marshmallows with his other drunken friends doesn’t mean the only way to get through to him is with a cinder block. There are always other options. When the guy you’re trying to wave through the four-way stop doesn’t move, it could just be the sun reflecting on your windshield, not his being a goober.
My advice to you all? Take a deep breath, weigh the possibilities, and, above all, remember that diplomacy is the key. We call ourselves an advanced culture, so we should act like it, true? I suppose I still am positive and optimistic, even though I don’t always show it. Patience is, truly, the virtue they say, especially when dealing with other, volatile minds. Understanding, as with all things in life, cannot be rushed; we must take our time. Don’t take too much time, though.
On a related note to my neighbors: If your wreath has turned brown and died, it’s time to take down the Christmas decorations.
**Next Week: Speling in the publik skool systim.
