Am I Wrong?

Be kind whenever possible. It is always possible.

Dalai Lama

1. Don’t Be Like Walter

My husband and I are both first-borns. We are stubborn, bossy know-it-alls. We begin a lot of sentences with the word “Actually …” 

He says he’s going to put the words “I was right” on my tombstone. He’s planned a number of epitaphs for my tombstone. It’s going to be one long-winded rock. (I don’t know why he’s so certain I will shuffle off this mortal coil before he does. It’s a tad concerning.)

It’s an achievement, nay, a miracle, that we have managed to stay married for over two decades.

Sometimes, John or I feel it necessary to bring the other down a notch or two. We’ve found a circumvent way to do this, and it involves a quote from the film “The Big Lebowski.”

In “The Big Lebowski,” John Goodman plays Walter, a Vietnam vet who is the sort of person who would rather eat dirt than admit he’s wrong. He firmly believes he is a “man of principle.” He is an unpleasant, albeit humorous, counterpart to Jeff Bridges’ The Dude, a pacifist whose hobbies include smoking pot, bowling, and amateur sleuthing. The Dude’s couture of choice is a ratty bathrobe. Walter dresses like Rambo.

Walter is very big on rules. When Smokey, a  bowler on an opposing team steps over the foul line, Walter objects. Smokey pushes back. Walter, in what some may consider a slight overreaction, pulls a gun on Smokey.

Later, as The Dude and Walter leave the bowling alley, Walter insists he was right. Smokey was cheating and deserved to be confronted.

“Am I wrong? Am I wrong?” Walter asks The Dude.

“You’re not wrong, Walter. You’re just an a@$hole,” is The Dude’s response.

When John or I rant about something that has ticked us off, the other only has to smile and say “You’re not wrong,” to remind the other that being right does not give one license to be a, well you know . 

2. Don’t be like Holly

This past year has brought the worst out in all of us. I mean, we’ve gotten glimpses into what people really believe, and we’ve seen a lot of grinches. Dark, cold, black hearts. And what we’ve witnessed has caused a lot of hurt and disillusionment. Because when stressed, when the world just doesn’t fit into our perception of how we think things should be, the human race as a whole tends to act out.

A recent personal example:

Last week, Benjamin informed me at six in the morning that he needed black pants and a black shirt for a band concert recording. He needed the clothes before two in the afternoon. By 6:36 I had located an outfit at JCPenney and purchased it, planning to pick it up later in the day. The website said orders would be filled within two hours. I figured if the store opened at eleven, the clothes would be ready by one, giving me just enough time to drop them off at the high school.

To get to the mall, after exiting the highway, one has to cross three lanes in a short amount of time to make the left hand turn into the parking lot. Ridge Road was busy. I put on my turn signal, waited for a gap, and slowly made my way into the first lane over. We were all moving at less than 25 miles per hour, thanks to a succession of lights. As I merged, the woman behind me immediately sped up, clearly offended that I deigned to cut in front of her. I persisted and eased into the lane. At the first opportunity, she jerked her car around mine and cut suddenly in front of me. I was startled, but continued my journey to the next lane. As I passed her to turn into the mall, she rolled down her window, gave me the finger, and yelled what I can only imagine was some kind of expletive. I didn’t hear. I was listening to a Michael Jackson song at a very loud volume.

I entered JCPenney flustered, irritated, and full of righteous indignation. I stood in a long line at customer service. When the petite, gray-haired woman at the end of the line told me she had no record of my order, even after she scanned my receipt, I huffed and puffed and said something like, “WHY DO YOU EVEN OFFER THIS SERVICE THEN?” And then I stomped off and found the pants and shirt on my own, thank you very much.

As I stood in line to pay, the shame washed over me. I yelled at a woman in her mid-to-late seventies working for minimum wage at a dying company over a technical error for which she was not responsible. I. Was. An. A@$hole. 

Time was running short. Nevertheless, I stood in that long customer service line again, apologized to the woman I yelled at, and then proceeded on my way feeling somewhat unburdened.

I have two quasi, sort of fuzzy, points I want to make with this story. First:, it’s important to offer grace when we’ve been wronged, even when the other person isn’t there to accept it. When we’re nasty to a person, it gets paid forward. Someone was nasty to me; I was nasty to the next in line. Instead of giving the woman who wronged me a little grace, I harbored resentment that quickly festered and harmed another innocent individual. (I was fortunate to have the opportunity to somewhat rectify my behavior.)

When someone is rude, it’s hard not to take it personally. But we might not know their backstory. Perhaps the woman who cut me off and gave me the finger was having a rough day. Maybe her kid told her at six in the morning that she needed to purchase an outfit and have it hand-delivered to him by two in the afternoon. Maybe her parent recently died of Covid. Maybe she’s out of a job and financially strapped. I don’t know. Does that excuse her behavior? No. Though it may have felt personal, it really wasn’t. I’d like to think if she had gotten to know me, she would’ve felt bad for her actions. I’m mostly a lovely person.

My second point: Michael Jackson once sang, “if you want to make the world a better place take a look at yourself and make a change.” 

3. If you want to make the world a better place, take a look at yourself and make a change.

You may say, “Holly. Seeking answers from Michael Jackson is really terrible advice. Do you know what he’s been accused of? Have you even listened to the lyrics of Billie Jean?”

Ah, but Michael Jackson didn’t write “Man in the Mirror.” A woman named Siedah Garrett wrote it. According to American Songwriter, Garrett said this about how she came up with the lyrics:

“One time Michael asked me where I got the idea for the song. My answer to him was that ‘I asked for it.’ I didn’t mention God because I didn’t know then where he was as far as religion goes. But he knew who I was talking about. I mean, I didn’t ask my neighbor George for it!

I did ask God’s help. It’s God’s honest truth! I said, ‘I want to write a song for Michael Jackson.’ Since I wanted Michael to know who I was, I was thinking, ‘What can I say to him that he wouldn’t be afraid to say to the rest of the world?’ And this song came through. And that is the truth.”

Isn’t that a nice story? 

I tell my kids: you can’t control other people. You can only control your reactions to other people. And your reactions tell the world what kind of person you are. (I also tell them, “Do as I say, not as I do!” Which confuses them, and is antithetical to my entire argument, but I try to own up to the fact that I am prone to hypocrisy. We all are.)

The “you can only control your reactions” quote is cliche - worthy of a thousand flowery internet memes - but I believe it’s true. And as a person prone to melancholy and cynicism and who enjoys handing out heaping helpings of sarcasm on a fairly regular basis, controlling my reactions is something I struggle with on a daily basis. 

So, like I tell my kids, don’t be like me.

Be like my husband, John. Yes, I stand by that. John has 500 friends from every religious, political, and economic background, sexual orientation, race, and sports team affiliation. And they are all his BEST FRIENDS. We have conversations like this on a regular basis:

John: I had lunch with Kamal today!

Holly: Who’s Kamal?

John: Come on, you know Kamal. He’s like, one of my BEST FRIENDS!

John, my traditionally conservative husband, doesn’t care a whole lot that you think differently from him. He’d LOVE to talk to you about it, (the man loves to talk, period) but he harbors no animosity toward you if you voted for Biden or for Trump and not his beloved dog, as he did. Because he cares more about people than anything else.

Be like my father-in-law who, as a pastor of a large church, gets dumped on on a daily basis. I’ve never seen him respond in anger. Only love, compassion, and graciousness.

Be like my friend Tabby, who has more humility in her pinky finger than I do in my entire body. I can always rely on her  to gently remind me that being kind is more important than being right. I always walk away from her feeling calm, loved, and heard.

Because if you want to make a world a better place, you should know that sarcasm, condescension, name calling, and complete dismissal of another person’s point of view is not a good approach. I have learned this the hard way. And, because it’s 2021 and the U.S. is more politically divided than ever, this goes for both those on the right and those on the left. 

Person A: Black lives matter!

Person B: ALL LIVES MATTER!

Person A: I would expect nothing less from a privileged, cisgender, white male! There is a special place for racist scum like you, and it’s called the seventh circle of hell, and I hope you end up there forthwith!

Person B: What’s a cisgender?

What Person A did here is made the other person even more angry than they were before. Person B is now much more likely to dig their heels firmly into their belief system. They are more likely to spew hate back at Person A because they believe they are the victim. And guess what? In that moment, they are the victim, because instead of engaging with them thoughtfully, person A pulled out a nuclear bomb. 

One shouldn’t begin a dispute with a nuclear bomb. A bomb escalates things much too quickly. It scorches the earth. It makes the other person want to retaliate with their own weapon of choice. 

Person A DID NOT MAKE THE WORLD A BETTER PLACE.

Person A showed us that they care more about being right than making the world a better place.

3. In Conclusion

I’m sick of the Covid. I want my kids back in school. I don’t want to wear a mask anymore. The masks. Oh dear God, the masks.

The other day, Ella and I were on our way to the store. She offered me a piece of her bubble gum, which I popped into my mouth. We arrived at the store, donned our masks, and went inside.

I’m not even a huge gum fan. Chewing gives me a headache. But it smells so darn good. So there I was, walking through Walmart, savoring the two whole minutes the gum actually retains flavor, and then, because it was bubble gum, I attempted to blow a bubble.

You can see where this is going.

I stopped, suddenly, in the middle of the soup aisle with a panicked look in my eyes, my mask now adhered to my face with bubble gum. Ella looked at me and sighed.

“You blew a bubble, didn’t you?”

I’m over the masks.

And I’m so tired of apologizing every time I sneeze or cough. The other day, I stopped to pet a puppy in my neighborhood. I coughed.

“I’m safe! I have allergies! I’m vaccinated!” I told the dog’s owner. She stared at me blankly.

“Oh. Well, so’s he.”

And I’m over the constant hand sanitizing, because all the studies say Covid rarely spreads through surfaces.

And kids need to be back in school, FULL TIME, because now that the teachers and staff are vaccinated, the risk of Covid is far less than the social and psychological ramifications of remote learning. 

The lack of common sense astounds me. People who wear masks while jogging. Those who rail against socialized medicine but act horrified that pharmaceutical companies make any kind of profit on the sale of vaccines. (You can’t pick and choose when you’re a capitalist, people.) People who fall for EVERY CONSPIRACY UNDER THE SUN. (No, sweetie, taking our temperature when we enter a building is not conditioning us to receive the mark of the beast when the antichrist comes to earth. I have heard this from more than one individual. As a person who has spent time in a psychiatric facility, I should tell you not to repeat this particular bit of paranoia in public. Because this is the kind of stuff the delusional people in the psych ward also believe.)

And then there are the ones who wear socks with their sandals.

And regarding each of the above assertions, I firmly believe that I AM NOT WRONG.

But maybe ...

just maybe ...

I’m being kind of an a@$hole.

So I’m looking at myself to make a change.

“The vice I am talking of is Pride or Self-Conceit: and the virtue opposite to it, in Christian morals, is called Humility...According to Christian teachers, the essential vice, the utmost evil, is Pride. Unchastity, anger, greed, drunkenness, and all that, are mere flea bites in comparison: it was through Pride that the devil became the devil: Pride leads to every other vice: it is the complete anti-God state of mind.”

C.S. Lewis

This is a faithful saying, and worthy of all acceptance, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners; of whom I am chief.

1 Timothy 1:15