Who's The Bigger Fool?

 “The only fool bigger than the person who knows it all is the person who argues with him.”

---Stanislaw Jerzy Lec

Are we there yet? Well, I guess to know that, we'd have to know where "there" is. Recently, that depends on who you talk to, and where they are in relation to where you are. Have I lost anyone yet? No worries, we're all wandering a bit, trying to figure out which way to go. The election is over, so why don't we have a clear path? COVID is still around, but wasn't it supposed to be gone by now? Why is everyone either red-faced and mad as hell, or dancing in the street?

OK, enough questions. These last days before the end of 2020 seem to be dragging along, and that is probably why none of us can agree on anything. It’s like we’ve all been cooped up at the Registry of Motor Vehicles, with ticket stubs clutched in our hands, but the screen never spits out our number. For many, 2020 has been like a hellish game of BINGO, where your card’s on fire, your tablemates are cheating, and the numbers are being called out on a bad PA system that makes it sound like the adults in a Charlie Brown special. Everyone seems to feel like we’re living in a snow globe that someone’s cat keeps randomly knocking off a high shelf.  No one can figure out what to do about it, because we all think that our way is the only way, our truth is the truth, and oh yeah, we’re still wearing masks and lining up for paper towels. It’s a recipe for disaster, and haven’t we had enough of that this year?

Normally I am not one to shrink from any kind of debate. My father used to tell me that given enough time, I could talk a dog off a meat wagon. Lately, though, I can't get my own dog, who is a vegetarian, by the way, to quit pooping in my shoes. She's house trained and everything, but she too seems to have just decided that her way is the only way and anyone who doesn't like it better keep their shoes on a high shelf. I’ve had it with trying to convince anyone of anything. So many of us are just at each other’s throats. I see it in traffic, which seems even worse than the normal Masshole behavior, it happens in the grocery store, or the pharmacy, and it's like we need referees with striped shirts and whistles, just to run a few errands. 

Recently, someone I know was talking about something political, which I don’t need to go into here, and as I was listening and figuring out how to reply and what my arguments would be, I thought, "Um…no, it's so not worth it." So, I nodded and muttered something about how everything is so topsy-turvy now, what can you do, just gotta keep going. Then it hit me. I used the words “topsy-turvy” and made meaningless chit chat. It’s like I had turned into someone’s dotty Aunt Helen, stuck in the corner at the holidays, mumbling into her canned salmon salad. Are those the only choices now? We’re either arguing every point, all the time, or we’re shutting up and wearing beige? 

Here’s where this quote comes in. We all know that a lot of what people are saying and doing right now is, well, ridiculous. We are all at least a little guilty of this, no matter what side of an issue we’re backing. It shouldn't be a surprise; before this year, all it took to make us combative and cranky was a cold Monday morning after a Patriots loss. The pressure cooker atmosphere of a pandemic, however, has kicked it up to a new level. Attitudes, arguments, and bathroom scales (OK, that might just be a me thing) have all reached critical mass, and while I'm no physics expert, something is going to blow if we don't take it down a notch. 

It's not going to be easy for me because I rarely choose to shut up, and beige makes me look like a baked potato with feet, but I’m done. While I might roll my eyes so hard I see my brain, going up on someone who is never going to see it from my point of view is no longer worth it to me. My mental bandwidth is stretched pretty thin, and we're heading into the holidays, which I'm sure won't be stressful at all, right? If you think you know it all, I'm happy for you. Time will tell, but I’m ready to let the clock run out on this year and spend the last of it baking cookies and watching Christmas specials. Cheers to not being a fool, at least for a little while.

These look good, right?

Embrace The Cranky

 “Your wrinkles either show that you’re nasty, cranky, and senile, or that you’re always smiling.”

---Carlos Santana

Gentle readers…or whoever else is looking at this. Please know that I am doing my best, but lately, my fashion choices are not just my cranky pants and my resting “B” face. There's a crown too because if I'm honest, the title of Princess Crankypants is more fitting than just “Nasty woman.” I have the whole outfit, and it includes a badge. 

Alright, it's not actually a badge, it's a pin that someone gave me in college, and it reads, "Do not start with me today; you will lose." Normally, I only wear it once in a while, because, well, it seems rude to always go around with a wicked attitude, but honestly? My attitude is getting worse by the day, and it seems only fair to warn people, you know? I mean, we have warning labels that caution against using a blow dryer in the bathtub and putting people, including children, in washing machines. Honestly, if you are someone that needs to be told this, please, do not come near me. Sorry if that sounds rude, but honestly, if you can’t figure out that a 5-year-old shouldn't be put on the spin cycle, I feckin don't want to know you.  

See what I mean? Lately, it’s not just occasional crankiness. That happens to everyone, right? We all have those days where we are grouchy, mean, and horrible. No problem, it’s human nature, and we can be forgiven for a few bad days. However, one of the things my father taught me was, “Go big, or go home.” Ok, he mostly meant it for all-you-can-eat buffets, the roulette table, whiskey, and pizza, but it seems appropriate for moods as well, at least in recent days. I have a wonderful friend who advises me that no matter what happens, I can always just smile and wave, however, the fingers and hand gestures I use are up to me. She also makes sure to let me know that prison orange is not my color, and that keeps me in check. Thanks, Kristen, you know me so well.  

Seriously, it's just all cranky, all the time. The weather isn't helping; we have the regular Fall rain, cloudy days, colder temps, etc. and it can be a major drag, but honestly even the warmer sunnier days can sometimes find me in a mood. It would be nice to blame the pandemic, to blame the lack of socialization, the tension of politics, and so much else, but no, I have to admit, it's mostly my own fault. Normally, I can take one day at a time, but I saw a meme online that perfectly says it. "One day at a time doesn't work when several days attack you all at once." It’s hard to know how to get out of this mode. What works for shaking off the cranky and manifesting a positive attitude?  

I have no damn idea. Pardon my French. 

I suppose there is some trite saying on a teabag tag or a fortune cookie, but honestly, none of the usual quotes are working for me. Carlos Santana says that my wrinkles are either from smiling or being nasty. Well, it depends on the day, doesn't it? Does anyone walk around all smiles when it's raining, every interaction has been via Zoom, and there's social distancing caution tape over your favorite spot at your favorite pub? No, they don't. And the wrinkles? Oh please, does it matter how I got them? My face looks like an entire flock of crows walked across it, and some of them stomped around because they were probably cranky too. What wrinkles truly show is that you've experienced a lot. Happy or sad, our experience usually shows up on our faces, and, well, it's not all peaches and cream, is it?

So yes, here's to the cranky days; we know they'll come, regardless of the attitude platitudes we all try to believe. Cranky happens; embrace the cranky because it's real. Faking it has never been my way, so today, this week, it's cranky time. Perhaps by the time this is printed, my perspective will shift. I surely hope so, but if not? So be it, a few more wrinkles aren’t the end of the world, right?