COMPLIMENTS – if you dare anymore

She looked radiant and beautiful; her full smile and energetic walk made everybody look. He was in a good mood – life was grand. As they passed each other he smiled at her, and then made a huge mistake; one he would regret for the rest of his life – and perhaps longer.

“You look fantastic this morning,” he said cheerfully and honest - immediately her face spelled horror. Moments after, he was forcefully nailed to the sidewalk by six sweaty SWAT members, cuffed, mug-shut, fingerprinted and thrown to the floor in dark solitary confinement.

“What did I do? Why am I here?” His screams echoed off the dungeon’s walls. The grimy, hairy and perspiring guard spat out:

“You gave that innocent woman a compliment; you sleazy, demented pervert”.

Back in the good old days she would have smiled at him and said “Thank you…” and felt even better about herself the rest of the day. So where did we screw up? Why can’t we more freely give compliments without creating suspicion of vile thoughts and intentions? What happened to those good old days?

I’m a compliment giver; have been all my life. When I see somebody, male or female whom I appreciate, that being looks, what they wear, say, how they carry themselves, etc. I often make a positive comment, also known as the now dreaded compliment. These comments have for the most been met with smiles and thank yous. But it has gotten harder to give a compliment today without creating suspicion concerning intend. Don’t you think that’s sad?

I’m starting to get this grandfather look, so women feel safe when I compliment them (obviously they don’t know what’s behind the facade – giggle, giggle), but some are still very cautious and defensive. A while back I complimented a young woman at the fitness club for her energetic floor exercises and the encouraging energy. She looked at me with disturbed eyes and couldn’t get away from me fast enough. Didn’t even say thank you or scream: Dirty old perverted man alert. Since then, she has successfully avoided me; and we used to be on good morning terms.  I know I’m good at phrasing compliments, so I don’t know why she reacted that way and that is really sad because I meant well. Just for clarification: I didn’t walk up to her and say: “Hey Toots, great stuff on the floor – your place or my car?” I had been kind, polite and adorably grandfather like.

I’m an overall nice guy (ask my Mother), do not look like a drooling sleazebagish sexual predator; I look rather safe. But I am afraid that looks don’t count anymore, as we are constantly being warned about those immoral wolves-in-sheep’s-clothing. Yeah, I even had mothers pull their children away from my compliments, like the next thing I was going to do was stick them in my van and race away (and I don’t even have a van – go figure).

So I’m a rebel without a clue and an obvious death wish, as I continue to do the compliment bit. I like making people smile and compliments do that. Okay, not if you approach a woman with: “nice set of tits, toots”, as there are so many other great things we can see in each other, things we as fellow human beings should have the right to acknowledge out loud – and make somebody feel good about themselves in the process – doesn’t that sound right to you? By the way, your hair looks great that way, it really does…  (you left your Web-Cam on; just so you know).

I find that pregnant women look absolutely fabulous, I really do. No, stop the perverted sniggering; it has nothing to do with that. They simply look so woman-like. Some years back, I saw a highly pregnant woman who looked like she was going to break her water right in front of me. She seemed tired of herself and her bloated condition. I smiled my comfy smile and said: “You look so radiant”; just four simple words. She immediately broke into tears, smiled at me and said: “That’s what I needed to hear all day…” As simple as it was, as powerful it was. But today we have to be very careful about how, who and where we do that compliment thing - unfortunately.

As I spread compliments equally, I have found that men react different than women; they appreciate the compliment, but with a ton of surprise and a bit of suspicion in the thank you, Dude. Women tend to be more flattered. Either way, compliments create good moments with a lot of positive reactions.

I like being complimented, but I’m not even close to be as good at receiving as I am at giving. Once I was sitting waiting for a flight departure, when an older woman (older, meaning older than I), approached me and semi nervously asked: “Are you an actor?” I looked up and smiled that charming smile of mine: “No I’m not; but it’s a common mistake as many think I’m George Clooney – want my autograph anyway?” I did not know older women could give the finger like that, rheumatoid arthritis and all – good job.

I believe we all need to be reminded when we shine and not just from looking at ourselves in a mirror. When my wife compliments me, I feel thankful and good. When somebody tells you that the dress you are wearing looks fabulous (except if it’s the husband wearing that new Halston of yours), it pumps a bit of happy into you. When we are having a shitty day and somebody is asking for that great smile we normally flash around, the day gets less shitty. So I cannot see why we must be so suspicious concerning the intent when we give and receive compliments, especially because somebody saw something in us, something positive, and then took the time (dare-devils?) to tell us. What's wrong with that? Nothing what-so-ever. Don't you agree?

Don’t be afraid to give out compliments, as it is a positive and good thing for both the one giving and the one receiving. At times I forget to do it, but other times I make an effort to give out at least three compliments that day or hold the door open for somebody, or smile more, you know, nice stuff like that. Oh, by the way, I do like your smile – it surely lights up the room – you are welcome, you really are.

Until next Monday – keep complimenting…

PS. Remember, just smiling at somebody is a compliment – and that we are all good at. It’s how we acknowledge and show appreciation for people we pass during the day; it’s the nice to see you greeting – and we do care, don’t we?

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DATING – a world of anxieties

He says: “Yeah, we went on this date. She’s a hot chick; a body that won’t quit and she can really kiss… if you know what I mean.” His male friends are in awe: “Way to go, dude”. And then they do that fist thing.

She says: “It was such a romantic evening. He’s so cute, in an awkward kind of way; so sensitive and shy. But he didn’t even try to kiss me goodnight; it would have been fine if he had”. Her girl-friends are sighing: “Oh that is soooo sweet” and then they group-hug.

YES they talk about the same date, but obviously see the experience a bit differently; lessons in confusion and anxieties, fantasy versus life as it really is. I don’t think anybody has ever said dating was easy.

We are not fully ourselves on dates, at least in the beginning. We spruce ourselves up beyond recognition before we are heading out; we wrack our brains concerning how we can make our dates like us. What clothes to wear? Cologne? “God, what can I talk with her about?” and the list of stress and nervous expectations is very long. Fortunately, in spite of that, we still go on dates, otherwise the human species would die out. But do you know what a date really is?

Clinically, dating is a form of courtship, a social activity between two individuals, aiming at possible suitability as partners in a more intimate future relationship leading to a spousal situation and procreation (children, two-car garage, grandchildren, pets, 401K’s, golden years and death). Besides the silly things, that’s what dating is technically about; something we tend to forget. But we can relax a bit as dating today is approached a lot lighter than it was 2-300 years ago.

I truly embrace this evolution of dating, as many families in the past were more controlling (still are in many countries) with respect to matching and molding their youngsters into certain family, financial or business agreements. Today’s women have reached equalities far beyond hundreds of years ago, so the playing-field of dating has leveled out; parity doing great work. Though this step forward has made it easier to connect, it still doesn’t make the emotional part of dating much easier, but it sure helps.

Dating would be a piece of cake, if it wasn’t for anxieties, angst, stress, confusion, misreading’s, assumptions, insecurities, timidities, the sweating in real weird places, expectations and other minor details. Sounds familiar? But of course, dating can also be euphorically fantastic; let’s not forget that.

Today’s dating is when two individuals come to an agreement of getting together on a specific date and time. For the most, dates take place in public, the mall, at the movies, at a party or a restaurant. It can also be an outdoor activity, like going to the beach, hiking, picnic, etc. Pretty much being out in public as an agreed upon pair, is considered a date. You didn’t know that, did you? Getting a date is a different story.

When we get a bit older, we tend to be okay asking somebody out for a cup of coffee, a drink or something like that. We are cautiously trying to figure out a little bit of where she or he is with respect to possibly agreeing to a trial get-together, as that is what it is, that first date. We want to explore the possibilities of compatibility with this person and that is much easier face-to-face.

As younger people acknowledge this new attraction for girls or boys around them, dating is popping up like an evil uncle. Peer pressure also shows its ugly head, but more so it’s all those new and scary emotions they have to deal with; not an easy task at all. It’s all new and very confusing.

We have a frustrating time contemplating if somebody we like likes us back. Not just young people go through that, but they do more so, compared with seasoned adults. Getting the courage together and make speech capabilities function properly, approaching that other person is one of the hardest things we are faced with entering the world of dating; that first: “I was wondering...?”

My Mother always told me: “It’s not going to kill you,” as if that would help. My mode of operation was founded on definite rejection and failure, which is not a healthy way to approach anything; so I was of course rejected again and again. My self-esteem plummeted and I finally stopped asking anybody for a date – end of story.

But then one day in school, a girl I really liked, asked me if I would go with her to one of the school dances. Normally all of us just showed up, but for some reason she wanted to “go” with me. I was totally confused, as I didn’t know if she was making fun of me or if she was serious; she was serious. She became my first girlfriend – and I was only 34… Nah, just kidding; I was 13. We parted ways after a great year together as a couple. During that time my self-confidence soared and I felt good about myself. Asking girls out on dates after that was a piece of cake – not quite, but doesn’t it make me sound cool?

Early on I also acknowledged by being myself, that not everybody found me so utterly adorable. Just because I fancied somebody, didn’t mean they fancied me back. That was the harder lesson to learn (because even back then, I was actually quite adorable, in that nerdy kind of way).

Staying within who you are is the best way to approach asking anybody on a date. If you are compatible on the first date, other dates will follow. If you are not yourself on the first date, you will be found out. Honesty and respect will take you far; much farther than immature efforts in trying to impress anyone with somebody you are not.

One last note: limit your talking - expand your listening. We learn much more about other people by listening and asking questions, than by talking – it is really that simple. We like people who are listening to us. When we listen to somebody and ask appropriate questions, it shows that we are interested and that we care – and not just in dating-situations, but also in life as it really is. Dating has many anxieties, but when we are ourselves, dating is also exciting and fun – it really is (as far as I remember)…

See you next Monday

LOGIC of the WEEK

The Southern Mississippi Church of God hired the new guard on the spot. He had a Bible-Belt in karate.

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HAMLET vs. POTTER

Real fast: what’s your favorite play or story by Shakespeare or Tolstoy? Ha, I knew you had to really think about it, because if you are fairly average, as most of us average people are, you don’t even have a favorite play or story by these dudes, do you? I like so much to be right; don't you? 

Sitting on any school bench, Romeo & Juliet, Hamlet, King Lear, Othello, Macbeth and Anna Karenina are still being forcefully stuffed into our collective brains – and then we go: “what?” I understand the foundation of literature being fed to us with the ilks of Shakespeare, Tolstoy, Forrester and other heavyweights early on, but we need to be nourished with much more current stuff to read, stuff that relates to now, not to a million years ago. I mean, when was the last time you picked up Moby Dick other than to press flowers with? Neither have I; also because I don’t use books to press my flowers. (Moby Dick was originally titled Moby Richard, but they shortened it).

We should be taught (practical) reading so we can function even better within everyday life, excluding agreements by iTunes and other on-line demanding-that-we-do; nobody reads that stuff, not even the people who wrote it. We just click I accept when prompted; I mean, what’s the point? We should be able to read our way through information that will move us forward, makes us understand things better day in and day out. But we should also be encouraged to learn to read so we can explore worlds besides the daily non-fiction, by reading fiction like Playboy Magazine, text messages and restaurant menus; so why are we not taught to do that?

And then Harry Potter had to fly in on his Nimbus 2000 (that’s his broom, for those of you who do not know your Potter stuff) and the young crowd went reading-crazy; totally screwing up my negative non-reading theory. This was the biggest and most golden opportunity for any school to pick up the magic of reading and run with it. You finally had interested students of all ages, even their parents and massive possibilities of creating a love for reading; and that's what happened. 

After Potter was read and read again, the kids continued to read something else, something more, after millions of pages of the magic surrounding Harry; Hamlet would never be able to create such frenzy – not even close.

As in any subject matter taught in school, we must of course learn from a foundation, the background of and an abbreviated history. Part of the foundation must clearly explain HOW we benefit, WHAT”S in it for me, WHERE it fits in to make the big picture more interesting and real; make us understand WHY and then we will listen, read, learn and apply a lot more – and with smirky smiles, no doubt.

Shakespeare is considered the greatest writer in the English language, and I can swing with that, but that was 500 years ago. He is a good foundation, perhaps the foundation to teach English literature from. But perhaps we should turn down the volume a bit and move on?

Sounds like I pick on William (and I do); he is a good example, though some of you might not agree. But then I could turn to something else, like music. We surround ourselves with music 24/7. It’s blaring out of speakers and ear-buds, cell phones, iPods, stores and elevators – constantly. And here again I would like to see the kids being taught music history in school, going way back and then catch up with Chopin, Beethoven, Mozart and Bach, to name a few. Then ease into the birth of jazz, New Orleans, Armstrong, Ellington, Count Basie; the transition into early singers like Sinatra and the grinding rock n’ roll by somebody’s lower torso named Elvis; the establishment, music and long hair by the Beatles, on to Lady Gaga and everything in between. Learning a bit of the history and foundation will make appreciation of today’s music so much more exciting and enjoyable. So why don’t we do that? Reading and music are such big parts of our culture; neglecting either is a sin.

We took our younger son and his girlfriend to a Xmas Jazz inspired concert last December. It had great musicians (Dave Koz & Friends), it was awesome in its energy and you simply had to get up and clap those hands and swing them hips (though I didn’t, because I’m too shy). Our son and girlfriend had not really been exposed to jazz before or even had an interest in that form of music, but observing them during the concert was really cool, as they both got up and did the hand-clapping thing – I mean, that was really cool. Are they now extreme jazz-enthusiasts? I doubt it, but they had a great moment with music they had not experienced before – and they enjoyed themselves. Did I mention how cool that was?

Harry Potter did the magical thing millions of teachers and a million Hamlets would never be able to do - get the kids to read and continue to read; just so awesome, because it is so awesome to read – it really is. The worlds we can travel by the written word are unlimited and that is so utterly exciting – don’t you agree?

Until next Monday (now where the heck did I put those flowers?)…

GOOD-TO-KNOW department

Did you know that Shakespeare married Anne Hathaway when he was 18 and they had three kids? True story. You might have seen her in The Devil Wears Prada, Alice in Wonderland and The Princess Diaries. I must confess she’s still rather beautiful – even after all those years… What are you saying? Not the same Anne Hathaway? But they have the same name; so that's the mix-up? Oh, I see - never mind.  Anyway, I don't really care much for women that old, besides my Mother, of course – but then again, she’s only 92…

Anne Hathaway 

Anne Hathaway

Identical twins? Duh...

An Afterthought:

Until I read Moby Dick, I thought it was a book about venereal diseases - go figure

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POLITICAL CORRECT - what's up with that?

It used to be mailman, now it’s mail-carrier. Remember when you wanted to be a fireman? No cigar – now you have to settle with firefighter. But firefighter is better than fireperson. The days are over when we could call some jerk an idiot; now we have to use mentally challenged – and where’s the fun in that? Are we soon changing mankind to peoplekind? Is it getting confusing expressing ourselves correctly and would that be marked as linguistically challenged?

The old meaning of political correct or political correctness is from the 18. century and meaning precisely what it says: relating to fundamental political thoughts and policies at the time – plain and simple; even I get that one.

But then we had to screw it all out of proportion by eradicate the use of certain phrases, descriptions and so forth, making us tremble in fear of saying the right thing the wrong way. I see the start of all this during the equality revolution of the 1960’s and 1970’s. Bra burning fumes mixed with an assortment of colorful inhalants. And then it picked up speed in the 1990’s and became political correct since then, involving many other issues – go figure…

PC covers a lot of territory and is seen as a minimizer of social and institutional offense with respect to society related concerns, including gender, occupation, racism, cultural, sexual orientation, religions and lots more. We all of a sudden felt we didn’t approach some things the (politically!) correct way; we were abruptly seen as insensitive brutes - not you and I, of course; so we changed it. But have we gone too far? You are very ugly is rude and crude, but is you are so far from good looking any better? And being political correct just sounds ignorant: Sorry, dear, you seem to be rather appearance challenged.

It has become somewhat of a joke the way we use some of these new language changes; sarcasm mixed with a bit of irony, my two favorites. We often underline our use of political correct, not so much to confirm the accurate use of what we just said, but more so to place it loosely on a giggle level; maybe we feel a bit silly using this “new” language – because at times it is silly to use.

Suddenly the word challenged was integrated with a lot of expressions; like it was some kind of bloody contest. A former retarded person is now mentally challenged. I fully see the rightness in that, as the term retarded has been and still is used in derogatory ways beyond the understanding of the mental condition being retarded. But now we are (sarcastically) using this new term instead of the old term – so have we moved forward at all? It’s not handicapped anymore, but physically challenged, though I’m still looking for Physically Challenged parking spots.

Negro or black has been changed to African-American, even if you are a Negro person from Bergen, Norway. The silly thing is that I even have a hard time writing Negro and black, as I feel it’s (politically) wrong. But calling me white I’m okay with – so go figure the logic in that. (During the summer I should be called light-brown, as I spend a lot of time with my face in the sun – working on that skin-cancer thing – there’s a real challenge).

Now former white people are called Caucasians; a word few former white people can actually spell correctly – white was much easier. We can’t even call Christmas Christmas anymore – now it’s the Holidays, being sensitive and respectful to other religions having the audacity of not celebrating on the same schedule. Minorities are People of Color, which I think is utterly old fashioned, silly and still sounds derogatory to me - really.

But then it started getting real crazy. Now don’t quote me on this, but a woman defied the use of wider descriptive words involving MAN; she felt there should be a broader equality understanding, perhaps a more politically correct unisex way of renaming these words. She obviously sees MAN the gender in more words than I do. Don’t worry; it’s confusing to me too. You know that mankind describes all human beings; it should now be peoplekind. And after you are done giggling, you realize that this is starting to smell like crazy.

According to the above, Manchester (England), becomes Peoplechester. Manhattan would be Personhattan, manhandle = peoplehandle. Well, you get the idea and this is all silly and for the most it would not work at all, no matter how funny it can be. I mean WOMAN is 60% MAN, so would politically correct be Wopeople or Woperson? Doesn't sound right, huh?

 

Fat people; remember when we could actually use that term without being slapped with a lawsuit? Now its weight challenged, but to me, we are still fat; no challenge there. Sure we could use overweight to lighten the load, but using fat is faster. We are vision challenged, hearing challenged, sexually challenged, a lot are driving challenged, and now you can make your own list.

 I do embrace a lot of the PC term adjustments, as they make us more sensitive to our differences and our equalities, thereby unlocking doors for a wider understanding of each other; and then we get along better. The politically correct bandwagon has helped us with this step, but has also given us ammunition to be silly, ironic and sarcastic behind the use of same – and I’m all for that as well, equality or no equality. But I never mean any harm – I really don’t. Do you?

In the end, it doesn’t matter what color we paint the duck, if it goes QUACK and walks funny, it’s still a duck; calling it a swimming bird or Donald (Duck not Trump), doesn’t change that – but now we are at least more polite about it and isn’t that nice?

See you next Monday

 

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