It's been a rough week, dear reader, and the weekend wasn't a whole lot better.
For three years or so, I've enjoyed a deep friendship with a couple from Lumpkin county. They played trivia with me at Loco's in Gainesville, and we began playing cards on Sundays, while they would avail themselves of my washer/dryer, and we'd take turns providing lunch. They had their own key to my apartment, which I welcomed them to use whenever convenient, and they would occasionally let my dog out for her constitutional when my schedule didn't permit. We've shared a lot of love and a lot of laughter. And frankly, I probably got more from them than they did from me.
This unfortunate weekend, I lost my patience with his wife, trying to explain the intracacies of a certain card. I snapped at her, and I knew that I shouldn't have. When the hand was done, and the husband was refilling drinks, I apologized. I explained that I had had a difficult week adjusting to an unfamiliar early shift, I had an extremely long and frustrating shift on Friday, and was rewarded for my labors by a fresh kidney stone which was causing me some mild discomfort all weekend long. She seemed to accept the apology, and we played another hand, shared another snack, and watched some television together while they finished.
Well, apparently, my apology was insufficient. While I was hosting my Loco's game, they visited the apartment, removed all of their belongings, and left my key, along with a note basically telling me what I could do with my half-hearted apology. Actually, the fragmented appendage was something else entirely, but I digress.
I did respond to each individually by text, apologizing again, assuring them that both apologies were sincere, that I wished that we could have discussed this in person at the time and air out the laundry, so to speak. And that I love them both.
I experienced a lot of frustration on Friday as I tried to assemble a couple of my long-form programs. I was missing content from them, and had to chase down my hosts and ultimately just do the best that I could. I feel justified in being angry. But was my anger magnified by how little interaction I've been able to do with other human beings for the past few months? Was my friends'?
An Entenmann's elf tells me that my sixteen year-old son got into a screaming match with his grandfather over the weekend over a missing mini donut. A single mini donut.
I'm not a dunce. I understand the anger caused by the recent treatment of minority prisoners at the hands of the police. I understand the protests as well. But would the amount of vandalism and violence have been the same had we not been socially distancing since mid-winter?
You need go only as far as social media to get an idea of how easily we can go from zero to furious in fewer than twenty keystrokes. I've probably lost a dozen Facebook friends over the course of the pandemic, and I suspect that number is pretty low in comparison to people who post more political diatribes than I do. I've only unfriended one person in my life over politics, and that was when I began weary of the names I was being called. I enjoy a good, spirited, intelligent debate. But so many folks these days are leading with their emotion-laden sleeves these days, and these discussions go south very quickly.
"What Do You Do With the Mad That You Feel" was a wonderful composition from the late Fred Rogers, and Tom Hanks sings the tune as Fred in the timely "A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood." The entire film is more about dealing with anger, specifically anger towards those that we love, than it is about Mr. Rogers.
I'm hoping that some of you will reach out to me at [email protected] to tell me what you're doing with your anger. And are you monitoring the intensity of your own emotions during this challenging time? If you're in therapy, are the Zoom sessions as effective as being in your doctor's physical presence? Do you have the courage to make that apology when you go to far? Are you even AWARE that you've gone too far?
I'm hoping to reconcile with my friends, because it's hard to make them today. I value all of my friendships. But I confess that a small part of me is also willing to consider locking my doors for good and just hiding from the world until the supplies run out.
We may have reached the point where the apes just need to take charge!
Let me know what you think at [email protected], and let me know if I may post your response in a future blog. Or don't. Whatever. I don't want to needlessly rile you up! :)
