Negotiations
Let’s make a deal.
HOW WE DOING TODAY
I have nothing to sell you. But I’ve been looking through the reports you left us, and I would like to thank you for the insights you shared. Even though a lot of what you wrote cannot be true, and defies confirmation, I am learning so much from all of it. No one can tell us what to do, but they can tell us what they’re doing. I worry about my digital trail. But not too much. In the future our crimes will be apparent, invented from the crumbs of our online world, and displayed for all to see. And it doesn’t matter if that happens to you or not, because the fear is the point. Fear thy neighbor. Make every one a cop. You can’t be too safe.
I saw a post in the North End Neighbors group describing some Teenage Boy Antics™️ where someone saw a boy hanging on to the top of a white compact car while it was rolling through the neighborhood. Complaining about others seems to be a treasured pastime, only now we all get to share. Next Door is another pit of endless complaining, scam alerts, strange events, and “what was that loud sound near Cassia and Philippi at 9:36 on Monday night” posts. I cannot conceive of a world where someone was on that website continuously, but it must be so. Where is everyone driving to? Did anyone hear that sound? Where is that gunfire coming from? Has the civil war started already?
I keep finding reasons to disengage, to draw back from the world. I’m not going to do that. That would mean that they had won. Navigating life, negotiating with the turns. Where will the path lead? I’m not in a hurry.
I’m glad I don’t ever have to tell anyone what to do again, but I need to learn to ask for what I want. I also have to decide what I want. Before I ask for what I want. Figuring it out now. Here’s a start:
This is the scene where my dog Junie and I were confronted by a person, who objected to us investigating the flower bed in the foreground. I refrained from the Karen gag. But I did make fun of her for complaining. I kept asking her what her stake was. I’m glad she was looking out for her neighbor. I’m glad I helped her feel alive! There was nothing to negotiate here, because no one in this scenario had standing. Luckily for all of us, I wasn’t recording her on my phone, and I was not particularly worked up about this low stakes situation. I was kind of glad she was looking out.
My wife Robyn and I have been married for 36 years now, and we have had multiple challenges throughout our marriage, mostly arguments about things we essentially agree on. I’m glad we found each other. The negotiations have not been easy, though. Nothing good is ever easy, except for the blessed people who have everything handed to them. I don’t know any of these saints personally, but they have to be out there, right?
So much teamwork is sabotaged by extraneous factors like body language and tone of voice. It’s been hard for me to navigate, with my oppositional personality and reactionary temperament, which is mostly submerged unless I’m dealing with someone I’m close to, Robyn for example. Most of the time I’m hard to read, so there is plenty of room for misunderstanding. I’m working on it.
Figuring out what to do, and finding a shared language to collaborate with people is what being human is about. That’s what made civilization, not “great men” making everything happen. Thousands stood and pushed, making the project go forward. I identify with them, the nobodies who played a role and contributed their bodies, and sometimes their lives, just so the king could wear the crown.
IT IS AMAZING WHAT YOU CAN ACCOMPLISH IF YOU DO NOT CARE WHO GETS THE CREDIT.
HARRY S. TRUMAN
Saint Dutch Reagan had a plaque in his office saying something similar. He might even have believed it. Of course, a lot of the things a President does they probably want plausible deniability for, so the ship of state steams forward. These people, who “represent us,” we don’t know. It’s not important that we know them. It doesn’t make a difference, either. It’s just show business. Suspension of disbelief and belief. Playing a part in the play. Negotiations with the texts. I’ve said too much. Go back to your routine.
I have eaten more than my share. I apologize. It’s not going to feel good, and I’ve consumed a fraction of what I used to. Still too much. I’m a waterbag. Mostly water. And waste. I need to reduce my footprint. Wash my place. Clean my spaceship. Leave in silence. Practice more, talk less. Yet, here I am, talking. Using more than I need. It’s a conundrum, mutating into a predicament. Not yet a curse. Not even a promise. Who knows what the planet holds.
I know I struggle with organization. So much I want to do, so many choices to make. Things are so spread out I lose track. I’m not a hoarder. The things I collect have a reason. I don’t need a stack of plastic chairs for the patio. The old coot, Bruce, who lived across the street from us when we moved into our house in 199-, was in the grip of a mania that instructed him to repeatedly buy storage containers of all shapes and sizes. So many, in fact, that when his family liquidated his place when he went to assisted living, the hardwood floors were pristine, except for the pathways where he wandered, living his life. He also had 30 years of vehicles parked in his driveway.
I see a lot of it out on my walks through the neighborhood. Groaning garages, packed tight with stuff. And, before I get too high on my personal horse, My garage is packed too. And I’m pretty sick of it. Now to do something about it. Quit complaining. I have time now. But remember, it’s just stuff. Negotiating your way through life is easier when you are not burdened with detritus.
But one persons detritus, is another ones TREASURE.
So, make yourself an offer.
Liberals feel unworthy of their possessions. Conservatives feel they deserve everything they’ve stolen.
Mort Sahl
“Left wing, right wing, chicken wing, it’s all the same thing to me.”
Woody Guthrie