Curmudgeon

Curmudgeon

Curmudgeon: An aging male, who grows crankier and more irritable each year. Well, I admit it, that's me. Philosophical popshit warns not to sweat the small stuff, but it I the small stuff that stifles us. It is easy to forget or ignore that life is a pretty thwarting enterprise. Where can you go where that is not the case? Alas, hardly anywhere because life is cluttered with people. Unless you choose to live a hermit's life, you are surrounded by people who have their own way of doing things and the more people the worse it is. Yes, everyone has her or his way of doing things and rarely, if ever, do they mesh.

Marriage, the culmination of the excitement of the pleasure of another's company itself is a hotbed of sorting out the details of the ceremony. Sure, some people go to the county clerk, but most want the presence of family and friends and the more of them, the greater opportunity for conflict. Sometimes the conflict is open and accompanied by shouting and screaming. Other times it is so low key the unwary observer is, well, unaware of the hidden tensions. But, in either case, there are always winners and losers. The honeymoon is, at least one hopes, the time for sexual exploration and pleasure and accommodations. Shall we do it this way or that way and who is really in charge. Of course, when the honeymoon is over awareness creeps in. In a movie, the recently married Judy Holliday said, with great surprise when her husband belched, said, “Oh, animal noises.” That honeymoon was over.

Consider the forthcoming baby. It gets popped out of a lovely oceanic existence aware of no social needs and no responsibilities. After rudely thrust into reality its parents immediately start the process of thwarting it. Obviously, such training is necessary because the infant has to learn the difference between toilets and diapers and assume responsibility for its actions. The infant learns there are goodies in reality and wants them. As it ages, it learns the word “mine,” in its mad desire to own everything. Growing up requires massive thwarting of human desires in service of civilization. Kids quickly find out that if they act right their parents (really, giants who control their lives) will do nice things for them, but self-control is the key. It is a clumsy way to produce the next generation, but what can you do?

A woman I knew, who loved her husband literally danced with joy when he left on a trip so she could be alone and free. Free? Free to do what? Whatever it was, she didn’t think her husband would approve. How’s that for a sense of marital stuckness?

I'm sure you can see how being thwarted is a major aspect of civilization. We suppress ourselves, we don't punch others for whatever slights have occurred. We smile in the face of others dullness and express delight at being fed detestable food by our hosts. I want a hamburger, why am I given cold zucchini soup? Bah, humbug!

Or consider restaurants. We pay for food and service and ambiance adds to the pleasure. But, often enough, the food is indifferent and the service sparse and most, yes most of us stoically put up with such indignities. And, we even provide a generous tip!

So, the aging process has led me in a somewhat different life path. I notice, without any specific intent that I am becoming more curmudgeonly. Actually, it started many years ago in an Italian restaurant. Our waiter spoke with an Italian accent, no doubt to impress us. He obviously was not Italian and the accent was phony as a street corner Rollex. At the end of the meal, he disappeared, taking much too long to provide the bill. When he finally presented it to us with a supposedly Italian flourish, I said something how long he had taken to supply what we needed to get the hell out. He became instantly insulted and said not to leave him a tip; I acquiesced. My wife, as was her wont, became enraged, chided me for this, that, and last year’s accumulated sins. Her vision of life was to supinely accept others rudeness . . . except mine to her, which I never engaged in. In those days, I wasn't so sure of how I wanted to deal with all the crap, so remained mute.

But now, no longer. India's restaurant had reopened near a retread-movie theater and Shirley and I ate there. The food was miserable and the service worse. I left no tip and calmly told the owner what I thought of such treatment.

Folks, I've had it with people who clog supermarket aisles with their carts not permitting others to pass. It is the total indifference that galls me. I've had it with shopping in department stores with no sales clerk in sight. Everywhere I go, when things aren't right, I complain. I don't shout, curse or carry on, but I express my annoyance at how the place is run. Once, a restaurant manager apologized and gave us a $25 card for our next visit.

 I’m doing my best to make the world a more livable environment. I hope you join me.