March 9, 2009

• Learnt
  

  It's from the other English language. The one we don't read, write or speak if we can help it. Now that I think about it there's some question about whether we speak English at all in this country. I'm not complaining. Simply observing. I'm an observer here. After passing over sixty years as a participant I've finally learnt (learned for the people who are not bilingual) that people don't want participants, they want cheerleaders, spectators and observers. That may be in order of preference. Though we all dearly love critics we don't want any of our own. We don't mind being one for someone else and even for ourselves in a pinch. We'd much rather watch a critic at work on someone else. Someone we secretly, or not so secretly, criticize. Critics don't even make the list. Observers aren't that popular either but there's still not much anyone can do about it under the rule of law. The most desirable are the cheerleaders. No, I don't mean those miniskirt wearing, letter sporting, bouncy, jiggly sometimes-gymnasts-but-who-really-cares-if-they-show-enough-young-tender-smooth-skin. Cleavage is probably nice too from what I've observed of the wannabe participants who trip over their salivating tongues at football games. Do you mind? I'm writing here.

  Have I genuinely learnt this lesson completely? No, but I'm getting closer. Honest. I'm learning that when I visit my (ahem) xanga friends, if I want to stay friends, I need to wear my cheerleader outfit. Since I don't have one that I can don in a xanga phone booth I just mill around xangadu in these grungy observer coveralls. They're clean even if not very stylish. The problem, in my line of work, is that you see much stuff. Sometimes it's stuff people don't want you to see because they're embarrassed by it. Other times they don't want you to see it because they don't know it's there and it would embarrass them if they did. Once upon a time, when I was about to go onstage with some folks, I told one of the girls she had lipstick on her teeth. Her reaction was so bizarrely over the top I didn't know if she was serious or not for a few moments. She read me the riot act and told me to never, ever, under any circumstances point something like that out to her again. Silly me, I thought she'd want to know she looked like a clown had slipped her the tongue before she went out on stage and announced to the whole world she'd been intimate with a clown. Who knows what lurks in the hearts of people? Not I. Well, I'm saying not I because that's what I'm supposed to say to stay friends. If I really do know and you haven't figured it out yet you'll have to go out there with the lipstick on your teeth now because I'm not saying anything. I'm an observer here.

  The thing about understanding is that not everyone shares it. Some people understand better than others. Most people don't understand very well at all. They've never learnt it. *smile* Why should they? What would you rather have, a wheel barrow full of five thousand dollar bills or understanding? Go ahead, lie to yourself and the rest of us. I won't tell. I'm an observer here. See? I am learning. People don't know they're defensive. How could they? They simply think they're explaining that you're mistaken if you see something they don't see. It's not self-justification if you know you're right. And we're always right about anything that really matters because if we weren't we'd find out what was right and then be that. How? We'd just change. Yeah, change is really easy. You just say, presto chango and snap your fingers and it's done. You never have to concern yourself with that again. If other people don't see how much you've changed they obviously have an axe to grind. Inscribed in the forecourt of the Temple of Apollo at Delphi was this horrible bit of advice: Know yourself. Of course we all do (in imagination if nowhere else) so there's no need to look. The awful thing is that when you begin to know yourself you also begin to know other selves. They don't agree, unless they too have really made the excruciating effort to know themselves as well. To know yourself is to understand yourself to a greater degree. It leads to all kinds of unsavory facts about our kind. Facts that a cheerleader would never notice, or mention if they did notice. You can be a good observer and not mention them too. I'm working on it. Have a nice day you wonderful, beautiful, hunk of perfection.
  

  • 4:28 pm
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