Snarky is as snarky does

"Sarcasm helps me overcome the harshness of the reality we live, eases the pain of scars and makes people smile

------Mahmoud Darwish

My mother said to me, more times than I can count, "You think you're so smart, with the wisecracks, just you wait and see." OK, Ma, I'm still waiting, what is it I'm supposed to see? She said that so often I was convinced that something monumental was going to happen.  I was really hoping it was going to be a magical unicorn or maybe Pierce Brosnan would finally realize we were meant for each other. She was right about the wisecracks though. 

(Pierce, kissing someone who isn't me)

Truly, I'm pretty sure I need one of those six-second delay features they have on some radio stations. It's completely organic; sometimes there is just no way to keep what's inside my head from coming out in a storm of snappy comebacks. English isn't my first language, sarcasm is and it's been that way my whole life. The Girl Scouts said I was rude, and they were right because when the leader asked me why I hadn't sold very many boxes of cookies, my answer was truthful, but perhaps not very polite. "I didn't sell very many because you can get a box of Oreos that's twice as big and costs half as much, who's going to be stupid enough to want Trefoils when they could have Oreos?" I didn't last long as a Girl Scout, shocking, huh?

Now that I'm an adult, it could be said that I've mellowed and left the sarcasm behind.  Whoever says that is lying; it's not even remotely true. I have tried, very hard, to at least not be rude (mostly) but the wisecracks are still coming. For me, these little gems are like the valves on a pressure cooker; they have to work or the whole thing explodes. There's a school of thought that says before we speak, we should ask ourselves if what we are about to say is true, kind, and necessary. Well, I don't lie, mostly because I'm very bad at it. Kindness matters to me a great deal, but no one is perfect, and sometimes I'm not very nice. Necessary? This is where you lose me. If every word ever spoken by me had to meet all three of those criteria, I'd barely talk at all and this column would be empty. There are probably more than a few people that think that would be a good thing, but they can kiss my…ok, never mind, this is a family paper.

Snarky is one of those words that sounds exactly like what it means and this is true of me as well. What you see, is what you get. So, while it will not come as a galloping shock to anyone who knows me, I'm snarky and that's never going to change. Why? Because, especially lately, there's been some serious crap hitting the fan, in my life, but more importantly the world around me. Without getting political, let's just say that between newscasts full of over-entitled behavior by those who should know better, and people who seemed to have everything but were in so much pain they literally checked out of life, I've had it. It's just so overwhelming sometimes. Blowing off a little steam by hoisting my snark flag high and letting it fly is just about the only way I'm going to get through a tough day without winding up in an orange jumpsuit. There's only so much badminton I can play, there are only so many birds I can whack the crap out of before my arm falls off. It's the same with this crazy world we're living in, my patience (which has never been something I'm known for) is wearing thin. I'm talking back to the television way too much and guess what? No one that's on it is listening to me. If I toss a few snotty remarks around now and then, well, at least my friends and family know it's just me being me. They are also the first ones to call me out when that line we shouldn't cross comes up behind me.

There's a lot going on now, and so much of it heart-wrenching and sad and phenomenally atrocious. If I'm rolling my eyes because the person in front of me at the grocery store is playing some complicated game of Tetris with her produce on the conveyor belt and then has to unfold her reusable bags from the origami animals she'd made them into because she saw it on Pinterest, you can bet it's because I'm trying to ignore the news on some of the magazine covers. I'm also going to think to myself, "If this chick pulls out a checkbook to pay, I'm going to bounce a can of Spaghetti-Os right off her skull."  My challenge is to not actually say it in my out loud voice. No promises though. It's tough out there, I'm doing the best I can.

Finding Grace In Failure

“The ideal man bears the accidents of life with dignity and grace, making the best of circumstances.”

---Aristotle

Who among us has not failed? Whether large or small, we have all, at least once, experienced some sort of failure. I failed early and often in math class and still do. Essential addition and subtraction happen easily enough, and maybe even a little multiplication and fractions. When letters are added to mathematical equations, I am lost at C. Perhaps there is a point to algebra, calculus, and trig, but it has been my long-held belief that letters, the very building blocks of poetry and literature, should never be assigned values as crass and one-dimensional as numbers. Words have depth beyond an ocean and breadth beyond mountains. Words can paint a picture; all numbers will do is tell you is how many pages it will take.

Numbers are not the only area in which failure is my constant companion. I have two black thumbs and have managed to kill every plant that’s ever come my way. A cactus, a gift from a friend who traveled to Death Valley, keeled over barely a week after being placed on my kitchen windowsill. Cacti can survive extreme temperatures and a lack of water but put it next to sink that was mostly full of dirty dishes, and it’s game over. So be it, I can always wander over to my neighbor’s garden and snip a few lilacs and munch on a few heirloom tomatoes.

These kinds of failures are small, however, compared to the more significant parts of our lives where failure, with a capital “F,” can be devastating. I’ve raised three children and while it’s been somewhat of a success since none of them have written a tell-all book about what an awful mother I am, watching them reach for what they want, and sometimes fall short of their goals is excruciating. Whether it’s tryouts for a team, looking for a better job, the demands of college academics or other pursuits, failure has come to each of them. As a parent, all you can do is be there, as a shoulder to cry on, an ear to listen and someone who can make the Lipton envelope soup and garlic bread when that’s all they want.

A recent article about some high school cheer team that took on kids that didn’t make the cut, but are now on the roster because of parent complaints got me thinking. Failure stinks. It’s hard, it’s demoralizing, and kids don’t always understand why. It’s also an excellent lesson, and it’s the way of the world. We all fail, in small ways and sometimes massive ways. While we might like to “snowplow” ahead of our kids and make sure their path is always smooth, that isn’t the best choice either. There will come a day, after college or whatever, when your kid has their first job. You can’t call them out sick to their boss. You can’t write a note saying that the weekly TPS report isn't done because Jack got back late from a lacrosse game. These children will be adults, and they have to figure it out eventually. So, is failure while they are still in the safe bubble of home a good thing? At some point, it changes from making a complaint to the coach or the teacher to, “This one is on you.” Can you ever stand back and watch them go down? At some point, we all have to say, “You’re screwed, and you better figure it out.” Finding that point is hard though.

I sound like a colossal crank, I know. So many parents would do anything to avoid their kid going down in flames (or getting a B on a test, which, in some homes, is the same thing) and launching the helicopter might work once or twice, but trust me, it’s not a solution. So, then what? Here’s what I think works. You give them every resource you’re able to provide. You give them good advice and support. You make sure they know you love them, no matter what. You tell them what they are good at, and then with a velvet-gloved iron fist, where they need to improve. If, after all that, they bonk? Oh well. Life is tough, and it’s almost never fair. Get used to it.  If they’ve had every opportunity possible, if they knew you were there for them, and yet something still didn’t work out? You look them in the eye and say, “Well, that sucks. Now what?” And then you step the heck away and let them figure it out.

Grace is often found in failure. Hope, renewal, and victory all come after something has gone wrong. Full disclosure, I think my children are amazing. Andy, George, and Devin are three of the best people I know, however, at some point, they have all failed. Personally, I think they are better for it, as am I.

Let the Commencements Commence!

Typically, this space would start off with a quote, but I just couldn’t narrow it down this week. Graduation is on my mind since so many friends and family members have kids who are graduating from college or high school. I remember both of my commencements as wonderfully chaotic days that seems entirely too short, considering they were each the culmination of four years of growth, friendships, learning, and fun. In the spirit of that and because no graduate I’ve ever known remembers what their commencement speaker said, here are a few quotes and thoughts condensed into a much shorter version of most

 speeches.

“Go confidently in the direction of your dreams. Live the life you have imagined”—Henry David Thoreau. Before you go whole hog on a dream, make sure it’s a goal, not a fantasy. We all have dreams, but they need to be tempered with reality. When I was little, I wanted to be a Rockette. I was convinced of it, and I begged for ballet lessons. The problem? Even with the lessons, I was a lost cause on the dance floor. I could have kept dancing because it’s good for fitness, but it would have been silly to hold on to this goal, because dream or not, girls who are short don’t become Rockettes No amount of dedication was going to make me six inches taller. Dream big, but know yourself. Know who you are and what you truly need, not just what you want. There’s a difference, and that is for you to figure out.

“There are no shortcuts to any place worth going”--- Beverly Sills. Regardless of what Siri,  Google, a GPS, or the Waze app tells you, always go the long way around. Faster isn’t always better. This applies to more than road travel of course. You can write a paper or research a project with some Cliff Notes and Wikipedia, but you’re going to be up a creek someday when you have a job that requires you to do more than the bare minimum. Your future bosses won’t give you a bad grade; they’ll fire you. Do the work. Do all the work; I promise it will pay off.

“It’s what you learn after you know it all that counts.”---John Wooden. You’re feeling pretty smart, aren’t you? You probably are, but wait…there’s more. You’re going to find out just how dumb you actually are. OK, not stupid, just inexperienced. You don’t know it all, and you’re never going to, but that’s OK. As long as you learn something new every day, there will be no stopping you. And while you’re out there soaking it all up? Look around and see if you can teach someone else something. Don’t hog all that knowledge, share it!

“Start where you are. Use what you have. Do what you can.”---Arthur Ashe. We often think that we have to have something else, go somewhere else, be someone else. Nope. If you’ve just made it through high school or college, you’ve got some excellent skills. Start using them, right now. Don’t wait for a specific job, or think you need to be in a particular place to begin. Start right now, get going. You’re pretty well equipped already, even if you don’t really think so. More classes and advanced degrees are worthy pursuits, but stop waiting for a piece of paper to tell you what you’re worth. You already have so much, make use of it.

“Failure is an event, not a person. Yesterday ended last night.” --- Zig Ziglar.  If you haven’t failed at something yet, don’t worry it’s coming. Also, we’ve all failed, early and often, so if you think you’re batting a thousand, go back to math class, you’re so not. In college, before I realized I didn’t, in fact, know everything, I got a big, fat, red “F” on a political science paper I’d worked on for weeks. I begged the professor for mercy and asked to do it over. It was on something to do with the Supreme Court and Nixon, I forget, but that’s not the point. Nixon’s dead and I’m not on the bench, but that experience taught me lessons way more valuable than politics or history. Failure is kind of like a tetanus shot after stepping on a rusty nail; it stings, but it works. Without it, we’d all have lockjaw because those nails are out there, but they don’t have to mean the end of you.

To all the graduates who are moving onward and upward this season, get at it. These quotes may or may not be helpful, what do I know? Oh wait, I know this. You shouldn’t ever stop looking within you, around you and ahead of you. I have a young friend named Gabe who said to me, about moving on and growing, that education separates the great from the merely good. He’s wicked smart. Go be great.

Pics are of me, way back when. And so it goes.