the Hyperion Chronicles
“All your base are belong to me”
#129 Reconcilable Differences
The Wisdom of Calvin (from Calvin and Hobbes):
"In humor, timing is everything."
“All your base are belong to me”
#129 Reconcilable Differences
The Wisdom of Calvin (from Calvin and Hobbes):
"In humor, timing is everything."
"Now, a lifetime of experience has left me bitter and cynical."
"I say, when life gives you a lemon, wing it right back and add some lemons of your own!"
"Some people are pragmatists, taking things as they come and making the best of the choices available. Some people are idealists, standing for principle and refusing to compromise. And some people just act on any whim that enters their heads. I pragmatically turn my whims into principles!"
The wisdom of Hobbes:
”I guess there's no harm in a little wishful thinking."
For all you decent people (and I know there are at least six of you out there), admitting when you are wrong isn’t that hard. Well, okay, that’s a lie. It’s almost always hard, but it’s not the end of the world. The trouble is, what if you’re not wrong? This is the problem I run into all the time.
I remember when I was 15 years old, we had this acting troop come visit the church and put on a play, which was quite good. Afterwards I told one of the performers, who had portrayed a rather promiscuous woman, that she had been “a great slut.”
The next day the youth pastor “Neal” called me in to chew me out. It turns out that in the past this woman had led that lifestyle and he informed me that what I said was inappropriate, I shouldn’t talk like that to an adult, and I had to apologize. Pastor Neal and I didn’t get along, and he came at me pretty hard. I knew in my heart I was trying to be complimentary and not derogatory. I didn’t know she came from that. You combine my good intentions with the way Pastor Neal put me on the defensive, and I got my back up. There was no way I was going to apologize, when I wasn’t wrong.
Years later, I looked back on that situation and realized I was wrong. Whether or not that woman had been a prostitute in Times Square was irrelevant. How much older she was doesn’t mean anything either. Whether or not she was even offended doesn’t matter. Neither I nor anyone else should have said that. There were better ways to compliment her acting ability. But at the time I let my “good intentions” get in the way of doing what was right. I’ll probably never see her again, but if she’s out there, I’m sorry.
Of course, it’s not always even that clear cut. Several years ago I had a girlfriend, and we were living two hours away from each other, which can be a real strain. I got us both these cell phones with the idea that we could communicate better. And for the most part it worked pretty well.
But I remember this one night, where we had this big argument. I can’t even remember now the whole gist of it. I was supposed to go down and visit her, I think. But I had worked all week, and hadn’t slept for several days, and I was too tired to drive down there. I don’t mean I didn’t want to go; I did. I mean I was too tired in the will probably run-off-the-road-and-die sense.
I told her I was very sorry I couldn’t visit her, but I had to have sleep, and I was going to try and get some and come down the next day. I turned off my cell phone, and went to sleep.
Well, I woke up the next morning to see that I had 38 calls from her, which upset me because I pay for each one of those, and minutes add up. I couldn’t understand why she would have kept calling when it was clear that my phone was off, and why she was trying to make me feel bad when I felt bad myself? I didn’t want to be too tired to see her, and getting mad at me didn’t solve anything. It turns out on the cell phone she had never used one, and didn’t know that when the cell phone goes directly to voice mail that means it is off and the person can’t hear it ring. She thought I was ignoring her and wanted to talk things over, which is reasonable.
What I should have understood, though, was a lesson my dad taught me. Growing up we children had it pretty easy, as far as parental harmony goes. My parents didn’t disagree that much, they rarely argued, and for it to actually escalate into a fight was so unheard of that I bet we siblings can name where and when each time happened.
But, like any relationship, there were differences from time to time. Our parents tried to shield us, but as the saying goes: “If you think your children know twice as much as they should, you only know half the story.” We kept tabs, and by our measurement dad was right 84.6% of the time.
But he would usually apologize first.
As a male, and soon-to-be man, this bothered me. I felt he was setting a bad precedent, apologizing when he wasn’t wrong, and should stand up for general principles. When I asked him about this he told me it wasn’t a contest, and if it was, whoever apologized first won.
This sounded like one of those pointless aphorisms, and did not impress me much, so he explained it another way: “It doesn’t matter who’s wrong or right. When you love someone, you are sorry, if for nothing else, that they are hurt by you.”
That made sense. Still does. I should have realized it with my girlfriend too. I don’t remember how well I apologized—although usually I’m pretty good at that sort of thing—but I should have understood the situation better. Rather than getting defensive because I felt I was attacked, I should have understood that she felt disappointed and hurt I wasn’t there, and she felt like that was a rejection. Neither of us were really wrong, but seeing things from different points of view, and if she’s out there now, I’m sorry you were hurt.
So what is the object lesson? Well, when you’re wrong, you should always make it right, no matter who is involved and how much you hate them. That’s basic. What about when you’re not wrong? What about when the other person misunderstood, took it the wrong way, or is just having a bad day?
Well, you can’t always fix it. Believe me, I know this. Writing these columns, I hear from irate people every week. Most of the time they have no sense of humor or are not thinking things through. I used to get very upset at all this criticism, but then my good friend Bear told me that as I got more and more readers, the hate mail would rise too, and that was actually a sign of success. Wise man, Bear.
So now I try to be cordial to all the people who feel antagonized, and thank them for writing and expressing their point of view I don’t necessarily take back what I wrote, but I don’t give them both barrels either.
But when it’s people you love and care about, it’s different. It’s one thing to stand on principle, like Calvin said, but in the real world it doesn’t usually work that way. Unless you’re talking about ending slavery or protecting children from molesters, most of the time principles don’t get you anywhere. It’s feelings, and points of view, and getting along peacefully.
Which doesn’t always happen. And when it goes awry, you have to look at the big picture. You might not be sorry for what you said or did. But if your actions hurt someone you love, what good are your intentions?
If you weren’t trying to do damage, but they were hurt anyway, now what do you do? Make it right. I’ll show you how:
“To my good friend I offended today, I’m sorry. My intentions didn’t get conveyed correctly. I would never try to show you up or make you look bad, and my attempts at humor aren’t always on the mark (as voluminous hate mail will attest to). I am sorry I caused you hurt, and I hope you can forgive me.”
Whatever happens, I like all of you, no matter what you write me. So, until I write (and potentially offend) you again,
Hyperion
June 10, 2003
Credits
Thanks to everyone who gave me ideas, inspired, me or helped me make this better
@2003 the Hyperion Chronicles
"Some people are pragmatists, taking things as they come and making the best of the choices available. Some people are idealists, standing for principle and refusing to compromise. And some people just act on any whim that enters their heads. I pragmatically turn my whims into principles!"
The wisdom of Hobbes:
”I guess there's no harm in a little wishful thinking."
For all you decent people (and I know there are at least six of you out there), admitting when you are wrong isn’t that hard. Well, okay, that’s a lie. It’s almost always hard, but it’s not the end of the world. The trouble is, what if you’re not wrong? This is the problem I run into all the time.
I remember when I was 15 years old, we had this acting troop come visit the church and put on a play, which was quite good. Afterwards I told one of the performers, who had portrayed a rather promiscuous woman, that she had been “a great slut.”
The next day the youth pastor “Neal” called me in to chew me out. It turns out that in the past this woman had led that lifestyle and he informed me that what I said was inappropriate, I shouldn’t talk like that to an adult, and I had to apologize. Pastor Neal and I didn’t get along, and he came at me pretty hard. I knew in my heart I was trying to be complimentary and not derogatory. I didn’t know she came from that. You combine my good intentions with the way Pastor Neal put me on the defensive, and I got my back up. There was no way I was going to apologize, when I wasn’t wrong.
Years later, I looked back on that situation and realized I was wrong. Whether or not that woman had been a prostitute in Times Square was irrelevant. How much older she was doesn’t mean anything either. Whether or not she was even offended doesn’t matter. Neither I nor anyone else should have said that. There were better ways to compliment her acting ability. But at the time I let my “good intentions” get in the way of doing what was right. I’ll probably never see her again, but if she’s out there, I’m sorry.
Of course, it’s not always even that clear cut. Several years ago I had a girlfriend, and we were living two hours away from each other, which can be a real strain. I got us both these cell phones with the idea that we could communicate better. And for the most part it worked pretty well.
But I remember this one night, where we had this big argument. I can’t even remember now the whole gist of it. I was supposed to go down and visit her, I think. But I had worked all week, and hadn’t slept for several days, and I was too tired to drive down there. I don’t mean I didn’t want to go; I did. I mean I was too tired in the will probably run-off-the-road-and-die sense.
I told her I was very sorry I couldn’t visit her, but I had to have sleep, and I was going to try and get some and come down the next day. I turned off my cell phone, and went to sleep.
Well, I woke up the next morning to see that I had 38 calls from her, which upset me because I pay for each one of those, and minutes add up. I couldn’t understand why she would have kept calling when it was clear that my phone was off, and why she was trying to make me feel bad when I felt bad myself? I didn’t want to be too tired to see her, and getting mad at me didn’t solve anything. It turns out on the cell phone she had never used one, and didn’t know that when the cell phone goes directly to voice mail that means it is off and the person can’t hear it ring. She thought I was ignoring her and wanted to talk things over, which is reasonable.
What I should have understood, though, was a lesson my dad taught me. Growing up we children had it pretty easy, as far as parental harmony goes. My parents didn’t disagree that much, they rarely argued, and for it to actually escalate into a fight was so unheard of that I bet we siblings can name where and when each time happened.
But, like any relationship, there were differences from time to time. Our parents tried to shield us, but as the saying goes: “If you think your children know twice as much as they should, you only know half the story.” We kept tabs, and by our measurement dad was right 84.6% of the time.
But he would usually apologize first.
As a male, and soon-to-be man, this bothered me. I felt he was setting a bad precedent, apologizing when he wasn’t wrong, and should stand up for general principles. When I asked him about this he told me it wasn’t a contest, and if it was, whoever apologized first won.
This sounded like one of those pointless aphorisms, and did not impress me much, so he explained it another way: “It doesn’t matter who’s wrong or right. When you love someone, you are sorry, if for nothing else, that they are hurt by you.”
That made sense. Still does. I should have realized it with my girlfriend too. I don’t remember how well I apologized—although usually I’m pretty good at that sort of thing—but I should have understood the situation better. Rather than getting defensive because I felt I was attacked, I should have understood that she felt disappointed and hurt I wasn’t there, and she felt like that was a rejection. Neither of us were really wrong, but seeing things from different points of view, and if she’s out there now, I’m sorry you were hurt.
So what is the object lesson? Well, when you’re wrong, you should always make it right, no matter who is involved and how much you hate them. That’s basic. What about when you’re not wrong? What about when the other person misunderstood, took it the wrong way, or is just having a bad day?
Well, you can’t always fix it. Believe me, I know this. Writing these columns, I hear from irate people every week. Most of the time they have no sense of humor or are not thinking things through. I used to get very upset at all this criticism, but then my good friend Bear told me that as I got more and more readers, the hate mail would rise too, and that was actually a sign of success. Wise man, Bear.
So now I try to be cordial to all the people who feel antagonized, and thank them for writing and expressing their point of view I don’t necessarily take back what I wrote, but I don’t give them both barrels either.
But when it’s people you love and care about, it’s different. It’s one thing to stand on principle, like Calvin said, but in the real world it doesn’t usually work that way. Unless you’re talking about ending slavery or protecting children from molesters, most of the time principles don’t get you anywhere. It’s feelings, and points of view, and getting along peacefully.
Which doesn’t always happen. And when it goes awry, you have to look at the big picture. You might not be sorry for what you said or did. But if your actions hurt someone you love, what good are your intentions?
If you weren’t trying to do damage, but they were hurt anyway, now what do you do? Make it right. I’ll show you how:
“To my good friend I offended today, I’m sorry. My intentions didn’t get conveyed correctly. I would never try to show you up or make you look bad, and my attempts at humor aren’t always on the mark (as voluminous hate mail will attest to). I am sorry I caused you hurt, and I hope you can forgive me.”
Whatever happens, I like all of you, no matter what you write me. So, until I write (and potentially offend) you again,
Hyperion
June 10, 2003
Credits
Thanks to everyone who gave me ideas, inspired, me or helped me make this better
@2003 the Hyperion Chronicles
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