I thought of writing about a few failed resolutions. But let's just say that when a bad relationship or situation has breathed its last, no amount of resolve can revive it... and leave it at that.
Perhaps we make resolutions in January to give ourselves a new set of survival tools until spring arrives. My 2008 survival tool was inspired by someone a few months back. For the sake of privacy, let's just call the inspirer... Mr. X.
You see, I called Mr. X "a piece of work."
Now wait a minute-I was provoked. This time of year I'm more prone to surliness, and I'm beginning to take that disposition more seriously. It works as a bright relief valve for a darkish mood. Last year around this time, for instance, I told one of my editors straight-out that he needed a wife. "I don't underestimate the perceptiveness of my readers and neither should you!" I yelled into my cell phone. "You! You just don't get it!"
"It" being me, us, women. He had (I am sure of this) no idea what I was talking about.
Back to Mr. X: He caught me off guard. Not only had he registered my arrival at my favorite coffee shop, he wanted to talk to me-which can be one of the comforting things about a community, or a huge pain in the behind when the unavoidable encounter means face time with one of your "ghosts," i.e., those we pretend not to see.
Please do not pretend not to know what I am talking about.
And what tipped me off that he wanted to talk to me? "Hey, Sanelli, I've got a bone to pick with you!" he piped.
Cringe. OK, fine.
I've been a local columnist for years now. Feedback doesn't surprise (or devastate) me like it once did. The thing that still does surprise me, however, is the number of readers who fail to understand that a column is only an opinion, no more right or wrong than the next person's point of view.
What surprises me even more is when a reader feels the need to "correct" my view when it doesn't jell with his own. Usually something about the tone reminds me of my father's voice back when my opinion was referred to as "talking back."
Mr. X. went on about something I wrote a few columns back. He had every right to do so, of course. What I do question is his right to call my opinion "unacceptable."
I don't consider myself a journalist. I don't write about news issues directly, or even take it upon myself to educate my readers as to what "the issues" are. Generally speaking, I write about ordinary things that, after a closer look, turn out to be not so ordinary after all.
"So if I nudged you to think about the issue in a different way," I said to Mr. X. "It's a good thing, right?" He was quiet for, like, a millisecond. Then, unsurprisingly, he again started in, this time with a pointed finger moving back and forth way too close to my face. A real stretch for me. But I stood there listening.
And I had this thought: You can always tell a retired professor. They still need/want to profess. And it's amazing how often they mistake that for conversation.
Who needs this? Not me, baby. And that's when I interrupted him to sling my stone.
I walked outside into the cold, vowing to have coffee at home from then on. Then, for some reason, I looked back at the window where Mr. X. sat. He waved. He smiled.
I think we both understood in that moment, without acknowledging it, that he'd forgiven me. Which made it a hundred times easier to forgive him.
So, on this new day of a new year, my resolution is this: Next time I'm confronted with pedantry, I say nothing and walk away. Then I won't have all the mental chatter saying, "You shouldn't have said that... you shouldn't have said that!"
And when self-admonishing abates, little rays of peace and quiet enter.
It in those open spaces that I intend to let the New Year begin.[[In-content Ad]]