This is Pam. For years Pam has been carrying a grudge against her sister Meg because Meg got the entire $200K of their father’s inheritance. All Pam got was Barkley the dog. Barkley pees on the carpet every day and destroyed her sofa. Okay, Pam, I’d be angry, too.
I’ve rarely been one to hold a grudge. It takes a lot to get me triggered, and even then, I usually move past whatever momentary feelings of irritation I’m experiencing within minutes or, worst case, a couple of hours – unless it’s ANYTHING that my annoying neighbor Bert Higgins says or does, in which case, I will never let it go. What can I say, I just don’t like the guy.
Other than with my neighbor Bert, I never saw the point to letting personal resentments fester. Research shows that holding onto anger and bitterness is bad for your emotional and physical well-being – much like the feeling of rage that consumes many readers after having been subjected to my latest humor article: “Damn it, Jones! That’s ten minutes of my life I’ll NEVER get back!” is the usual complaint I receive.
Nelson Mandela once wrote, “Resentment is like drinking poison and waiting for the other person to die.” On a related note, for months I resented my first college girlfriend for making out with a friend of mine. Six months later, she still hadn’t died. So yeah, turns out Nelson was right.
I come from a hearty stock of grudge holders. One of my brothers who will not be named (okay, you twisted my arm – his name is Ted) would not speak to me for over a year because sixmonths after he had asked me for a three-month loan, I had the temerity to ask him to pay me back the $500 I had lent him. My egregious offense was asking to be paid back at all. Thankfully, my brother explained his understandable outrage at my insensitive treatment: “Family members should never expect to be paid back.” That was over forty years ago. He still harbors hard feelings. I’m confident in time, he’ll forgive me and reimburse me. Do you think it’s too late to ask him to include interest? Nah, that probably wouldn’t end well. Forget I even mentioned it.
Everybody holds onto grudges. Even famous people. For example, did you know that John Adams, America’s second president, was a close friend of Thomas Jefferson, our third president – until 1801? That’s the year that Jefferson defeated Adams for the presidency. Adams never forgave Jefferson (his VP when Adams was president) for running against him. They soon became bitter enemies, refusing to settle their differences for more than twenty years. It wasn’t until very late in life that they finally made amends. Personally, I’m not so sure they forgave each other so much as dementia may have set in, and they each thought they’d made a new friend.
Thomas Jefferson (L) and John Adams famously fell out of favor with each other and became bitter enemies. Jefferson was envious of Adams’ great wealth. Adams resented Jefferson for his lush, full head of hair and his hot mistress Sally Hemings.
Many famous people throughout history refused to let go of longstanding grudges: Alexander Hamilton and Aaron Burr, Van Gogh and Gauguin, Thomas Edison and Nicola Tesla, Joan Crawford and Bette Davis, Paul McCartney and Yoko Ono, Donald Trump and… well, just about everybody who’s ever worked for him.
The above list includes several extremely intelligent, talented people… and Donald Trump. In each case, they chose to keep the fires of grievance burning for years. At least Hamilton and Burr eventually found a way to abruptly resolve their feud – if you consider pistols at dawn an effective way to end a dispute.
Have you ever noticed how for some people, it’s easier to offer criticism than a compliment? Similarly, some of us would actually choose to stay angry and resentful rather than forgive the other person. Why is this? Here’s my theory: Sincere forgiveness can require a lot of effort. Worse, it just might require us to accept that we played a part in creating this rift. And why should we waste our time on self-reflection about our own shortcomings when it’s far less work to place all the blame on my annoying neighbor, Bert Higgins?
Besides, if we forgive the other person, that lets them off the hook. And I’ll be damned if I’m going to let Charlie Jamison forget about the fact that he ran over my pet guinea pig Bubbles with his Schwinn bicycle back in 5th grade. He still has never apologized for murdering my best friend.
The more I think about it, the more I realize that holding onto a long-simmering resentment offers several useful benefits. First, you’ll no longer need to worry about getting them a birthday present or sending a Christmas card. You won’t have to invite them over for Thanksgiving. And you can relax as you watch the football game knowing they’ll never interrupt the game with a pesky phone call to vent to you about their disappointing teenage son Norman.
If you expand your network of people towards whom you could harbor resentment, just think of how much spare time it will open up in your weekly schedule. Of course, it works in reverse as well. If there is someone in your life you find slightly unpleasant to be around, you might consider insulting them about their appearance or parenting skills. That way, they’ll start to resent you and, if you’re lucky, refuse to acknowledge your existence. Mission accomplished.
Why do people carry grudges? Well, in this case, it’s because Maria was named the prom queen, while her identical twin sister Evelyn lost out. So unfair. And Maria even had the nerve to wear the same dress as Evelyn. What a bitch.
So, I’ve changed my mind. Instead of letting go of past resentments, I’m going to start to embrace them. You hear that, Coach Steck? Perhaps you’ve forgotten about the time you demoted me to second string on our high school football team after I had one bad game back in 1973. Well, I haven’t forgotten, Coach. I’m coming to even the score with you – assuming that at the age of 104 you’re still alive, you son of a b*tch.
And Larry Elmendorf, don’t think I’ve forgotten that in 5th grade you once called me “Thunder Thighs Jones” because you thought I had fat thighs back then. Vengeance will be mine, by which I mean I will post a snarky comment about your recent weight gain on your Facebook page.
Tonight I’m supposed to make dinner, but I’m feeling lazy. I’d rather just have some leftover pizza and watch the game. I think I’ll get out of cooking by pretending to carry a grudge against my wife for nagging me repeatedly that I still haven’t mowed the lawn. Yeah, that should do the trick. And I’ll forgive her the next day, when it’s her turn to cook.
That’s the view from the bleachers. Perhaps I’m off base.
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Little Yong Li, around age 1. Little did she know what challenges her life would have in store for her.
She was found on a busy street corner in a city of over four million people. She was only a few days old – abandoned, lost, completely unknown. No identification on her to indicate whose family she belonged to. An orphan, a tiny baby whose first meaningful life experience was to be abandoned by her parents for no other reason than the misfortune of having been born a girl. Such was the fate of hundreds of thousands of baby girls in China between 1979 and 2015.
The orphanage where she was taken, thankfully, was a good one. The staff gave her the name Yong Li, which meant “Forever Beautiful.” Despite her tumultuous beginning, in less than five months, little Yong Li would be matched to a childless couple in America and headed to her new forever home in the States.
Yong Li overcame her traumatic origin and would eventually thrive. But like many young Chinese adoptees in English-speaking countries, she had serious speech challenges, struggling to pronounce many sounds that she’d never heard during her brief time in China – sounds like the letters R, S, and T. For several years as a young child, her parents had her take speech therapy classes.
Nervous about entering Kindergarten, she overcame her anxieties and in time settled into school life. A relatively shy child, Yong Li learned to play chess at a young age. Some of her favorite times were the quiet moments she would play chess with her dad. Over her first 12 years, she became even more introverted. She didn’t have many friends. But she discovered the joy of the wizarding world of Harry Potter and would spend hours upon hours reading one Harry Potter book after the next.
As she reached her early teen years, she became a bit of a tomboy and excelled at sports, especially soccer. She was a fierce competitor, playing defense. Always the shortest girl on every soccer team, Yong Li was also her team’s fiercest competitor. It did not matter the size or physicality of her opponent. If they had the ball, it wasn’t going to be theirs for long.
Yong Li doing what she loved more than anything as a teenager: soccer. She was not very big, but wow, could she play the game with passion.
Soccer became her passion. Unfortunately, Yong Li’s fearless, overly aggressive style of play came at a steep price. She suffered a series of minor concussions playing the sport she loved. One time she and an opposing player collided heads when they both went to head the ball. Concussions, her parents would learn, tend to be cumulative, meaning the effects of multiple concussions over time are more severe and long-lasting than the effects of a single concussion, thus leading to a build-up of cognitive damage and persistent symptoms.
Finally, a soccer collision in the spring of her junior year of high school was so severe that Yong Li was forced to take a medical withdrawal from school for the rest of the school year. This would be the last soccer game she would ever play. It crushed her spirit. On top of that, she had to attend full-time summer school to retake her spring semester in order to graduate on time. Doctors told her she could never play any contact sport ever again. The risk to her long-term mental and physical health was just too great.
Despite the upsetting setback, Yong Li would go on to university. But in the spring of her sophomore year, she slipped and banged her head on a wall pipe in her dorm. The brain injury was so serious that for the second time in three years, she was forced to take a medical withdrawal from school. Somehow, thanks to her stubborn determination, Yong Li overcame this latest misfortune and completed her nursing school education, graduating Magna Cum Laude.
Yong Li began her career as a cardiology nurse. After a few years, she decided to pursue a DNP (Doctor of Nursing Practice) program to become a Nurse Practitioner. While going to grad school part-time and working full-time, one day she was working with a difficult patient who was in such an agitated mental state she had to be strapped to her hospital bed. When the patient asked if she could use the bathroom, Yong Li cautiously removed the straps and helped her up out of the bed. Then in a flash, the patient, completely unprovoked, angrily landed a severe blow directly on Yong Li’s temple with her fist. Yong Li fell hard, smashing her head forcefully into the hard linoleum floor. She briefly lost consciousness.
Yong Li on her graduation day from Nursing School.
This time, her traumatic brain injury was so extensive that Yong Li could barely speak or even open her eyes for days. When she tried to talk, her words came out so slurred she sounded like she was drunk. She could not concentrate at all. She couldn’t conduct even a short conversation because it hurt her brain too much.
She had to undergo intensive therapy of all types – cognitive, speech, balance, psychological, and more – for almost three years. Her cognitive impairment was initially so profound that doctors were doubtful she would ever be able to work in the healthcare field again, let alone become a nurse practitioner. She had to face the stark reality that she might be forced into a future of part-time low-paying jobs because the concept of her working a full eight-hour shift was unthinkable, according to the doctors.
But Yong Li never gave up. She spent just under three years in intensive physical therapy, going to multiple medical appointments most weeks, slowly, painfully regaining her ability to concentrate, communicate, and handle stress. During this grueling period, she was unable to work for almost three years and had to withdraw completely from her graduate program. She came close to losing all her academic credits because so much time had passed.
Eventually, incredibly, she returned to work, albeit only part-time for the first year. But slowly, over time, she was able to increase her hours and return to full-time work. Today she is back working as a full-time nurse and once again pursuing her dreams of becoming a DNP.
After almost three years of watching Yong Li struggle to regain her cognitive function, Yong Li’s doctor told her dad that he was amazed at her progress. “She’s a real fighter.,” he said. “Most people in her situation just give up. It’s too hard, too overwhelming, and too emotionally draining, to keep going. The progress is just so slow, it becomes demoralizing. But she never gave up. She is one tough young woman.”
Yes, she is. Yong Li never gave up. She has always been a fighter. It’s one of the many things that her father always admired about her. And I should know. I’m her dad.
Me with my amazing, resilient young daughter, Yong Li.
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Now and then, I sometimes worry that things will go horribly awry. The other day, while out doing errands, I wondered, did I remember to turn off the stove? Close the front door? Unplug the toaster? It got me anxious… which is why, when I finally got home, everything was just fine. See? Worrying works!
You know, they say that worrying is like a rocking chair: it gives you something to do but gets you nowhere. My wife says that I worry too much, that I fret over every little thing that could go wrong, when the reality is, none of those things ever do. But she just doesn’t get it. She doesn’t understand that the act of worrying is actually a highly effective, scientifically backed method of preventing disaster. Sure, she says I’m “obsessive” or “paranoid” or “a nervous nelly,” but I’ve done the math, and I’m convinced I’m right: worrying works!
I’ve started keeping track of some of the things I worry about – big things, small things, catastrophic things – and after careful analysis, I can confirm that more than 95% of these unpleasant scenarios never actually happen. And here’s the key: the reason they never occur is because I worried about them. That’s right, I’m the human equivalent of an emotional insurance policy. My worrying creates a protective bubble preventing the events I fear from materializing.
When my girls were in middle school if I hadn’t spent hours stressing over the possibility that one of them might get teased or tormented at school, they would have certainly at some point been accosted by a gang of sixth grade mean girls intent on humiliating them for a fashion faux pas by pelting them with bottles of hand lotion, lip gloss, or whatever else middle school girls keep in their purse. But since I worried about it, they always came home unscathed – conclusive proof positive that worrying is the best kind of prevention.
Let me explain how my Worrying Works theory is scientifically sound, by sharing a few examples.
A Cat Getting Loose
I know it’s irrational, but every time I open the front door to leave the house, I’m concerned one of our three cats will see their fleeting window of opportunity and make a run for it. I worry about them getting hit by a car, getting devoured by a coyote, or just deciding to leave us for a family of more responsible pet owners. They never actually do make a run for it, preferring instead to park themselves inside whatever newest cardboard box just arrived from Amazon. I can only assume that my intense worrying about this scenario somehow convinces them not to attempt a jail break. Cats are perceptive like that.
Falling Down the Stairs
I’m no longer in my prime, so the issue of falling actually is serious problem for people my age. I’m not exaggerating when I say that every time I descend a staircase, I’m mentally preparing myself for the possibility that I will trip, tumble and fall headfirst into a coma – probably while carrying a helpless kitten or a priceless Ming vase (although I don’t currently own a Ming vase).
The prospect of this horrible accident haunts me so much that I tightly cling to the handrail like it’s my lifeline. Clearly, obsessively worrying that I might fall has worked because I have never once fallen down the stairs. (I have accidentally tripped over our cat Zippy lounging on the landing a couple times, however.)
Running Out of Money
Ever since I found out five days before the start of my second year that my father could no longer afford to pay for my college education (true), I’ve been a bit obsessed with financial security. I have this nagging feeling that eventually our nest egg will run out, and we’ll be forced to sell our house and move into a trailer park where our unit is right next door to a recently released ex-con who did time for arson, plays Metallica at full volume at 2am, and hates cats.
The reality is that our financial planner says we have enough of a cushion comfortably to get us through the next ten years. Yeah, but what about after that? Hopefully, by anxiously checking our bank balance every nine hours, my financial day of reckoning can be postponed.
At every annual physical, I worry this will be the time my doctor tells me I have a brain tumor the size of a grapefruit. So far, that’s never been the case. However, recently he told me I could lose a few lbs. Now I’m worried about my weight.
My House Getting Destroyed
I know it’s a bit extreme, but sometimes when I leave the house, I wonder if I’ve left the stove on, or worse – if the house is going to spontaneously combust. Either that or vanish into a mysterious sinkhole that was lurking for all these years directly under our house. But despite my constant worry, I’ve never come home to a smoking pile of ashes or any other disaster – unless you consider my cable TV going out due to a windstorm a disaster. I’ll never know with 100% certainty, but I’m pretty sure my anxious brain is working overtime to keep our house safe.
Annoyingly, my wife doesn’t appreciate the thousands of dollars my habit of worrying about absolutely everything has saved us. Okay, I’ll admit that I can’t prove that my compulsive worrying has kept the countless worst-case scenarios at bay. But I’m not ready to let down my guard. I know that the moment I do, my car will break down on the way to the airport, and Zippy will escape out the garage door that I forgot to close. And I’ll probably get a cavity.
You may think I’m crazy. But my system has been working for many years. And my advice to you is this: You really should be worrying way more about stuff than you do. It just might ensure that on your upcoming trip to Florida, the plane doesn’t crash in the Bermuda Triangle. Just trying to look out for you, buddy.
That’s the view from the bleachers. Perhaps I’m off base.
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A Thirteen-Year-Old, a Disabled Retiree, and a Gay Schnauzer Among Those Detained
A vigilant ICE officer quickly broke up an attempt by a Clearwater, Florida teacher to indoctrinate the impressionable young minds of her kindergarten class. She was feeding them nefarious stories of witchcraft and other anti-Christian pagan themes. The ICE official confiscated evil book, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone.
Washington, D.C. – April 13, 2025 – In its latest effort to protect America from vaguely defined threats to freedom, the U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) has announced a sweeping series of arrests this week, targeting what President Trump has described as “some of the nastiest hombres” and who ICE officials have identified as “individuals whose behaviors raise substantial flags, not necessarily red, but at least an alarming shade of pink.”
The following is a summary of some of today’s key apprehensions:
Beaumont, Texas – Thirteen-Year-Old Girl Arrested for Religious Inquiry
ICE officials detained 13-year-old Kaitlyn Ramirez, a straight-A student and junior varsity cheerleader, for allegedly googling, “Who is Allah?” while working on a middle school world religions homework assignment. Authorities intercepted the conversation through Kaitlyn’s smart speaker and immediately classified the question as “potentially radicalizing behavior.”
“She should’ve just asked about Zeus,” stated ICE spokesperson Brad Tallwall. “You don’t see kids getting radicalized by Ancient Greece. They just wear togas and yell ‘Opa!'”
Kaitlyn has been placed in a re-education camp where she will learn about more appropriate religious inquiries, such as “Who is the Holy Ghost” and “Who would Jesus deport?”
Boston, Massachusetts – 78-Year-Old Disabled Man Detained for Baseball Curiosity
Clarence Willoughby, 78, was detained Tuesday after asking a Barnes & Noble employee if they carried “a biography about Jackie Robinson.” According to the ICE incident report, Willoughby, who uses a walker and appears to be non-white, “raised suspicions by referring to a known historical activist and someone who once slid aggressively into second base, which was being protected by an unarmed white man just minding his own business.”
Clarence attempted to clarify that he was simply a lifelong baseball fan. ICE remained unmoved, issuing a statement that read, “We’re not saying Mr. Willoughby is un-American, but he did admit to once watching all eight hours of a Ken Burns documentary about Muhammad Ali. How could he not become radicalized after that?”
Mr. Willoughby is currently being held in a minimum-security nostalgia facility, where detainees are required to watch “Hallmark Channel” movies about young white people falling in love on an endless loop until they forget any history that existed before Ronald Reagan was president.
Portland, Oregon – Barista Removed for Using Metric System
ICE agents raided a downtown Portland coffee shop on Thursday morning, apprehending Sierra Moonbeam, 26, after she asked a customer if they wanted a “half-liter cold brew.”
“Using the metric system is a clear sign of sympathizing with non-American forces,” said Deputy ICE Commander Frank Catchem. “We use ounces in this country. Liters are for elite European socialists and enemies of freedom. And besides, she had a hippie peace symbol tattoo on her neck. Sounds like an agitator to me.”
Sierra reportedly tried to explain that her question was prompted by a barista training manual sourced from Canada. ICE dismissed her excuse as “maple-scented propaganda.”
Dayton, Ohio – Father of Two Expelled for Cooking Falafel
ICE arrested Mohammed Patel, a 34-year-old accountant and father of two, after neighbors reported “suspicious smells” coming from his backyard grill. Upon investigation, agents discovered Patel was preparing homemade falafel which he claimed was for a PTA fundraiser.
“We can’t take chances,” said Agent Carl Lahckemup. “That food had spices in it we couldn’t even pronounce. Also, he called his grill a ‘tandoor,’ which might be a code word for something bad.”
Patel has been sent to a Homeland Culinary Adjustment Detention Facility, where he will be retrained in safer American dishes, such as cheeseburgers, baked beans, and Kraft Macaroni & Cheese.
Phoenix, Arizona – Woman Detained for Watching Foreign Cinema
Eliza Grant, 42, a librarian and mother of three, was taken into ICE custody after checking out the 1952 Japanese film Ikiru from her local public library.
“She had subtitles on and everything,” said ICE analyst Tanya Kickemaut. “Next thing you know, she’ll be sipping espresso and saying words like ‘existential.’ We don’t need that kind of French influence spreading. Imagine if there had been impressionable young children nearby!”
Eliza has been assigned mandatory viewing of all nine Fast & Furious movies, to reestablish a sense of traditional American narrative structure and car-based diplomacy.
Mrs. Edna Washington of Duluth, Minnesota was apprehended by ICE agents after she was caught in the act of listening to an audio cassette instructional program called “Beginning Spanish.” Officials, out of an abundance of caution, arrested her on suspicion she might be trying to smuggle illegal Mexicans into the USA to sell fentanyl to minors. She was last seen in an El Salvadoran women’s detention camp.
Miami, Florida – Teen Removed After Saying “Soccer is Better than Football”
ICE officials removed Diego Martinez, 17, from an AP Government class after he made the offensive statement, “Soccer is better than football,” during a classroom debate.
The school resource officer contacted ICE, who cited Diego for “public admiration of an alien sport” and “blatant disrespect of America’s national pastime.”
Diego is currently being held in a suburban juvenile holding facility where he will be required to memorize the rules of the American football, identify at least ten Jimmy Stewart movies, and list his top five favorite Tom Brady moments.
Madison, Wisconsin – Gay Schnauzer Deported After Being Caught Humping a Cat
A nine-year-old male schnauzer named Titus has been deported to a Guatemalan animal detention compound after he was caught attempting to fornicate with a male cat. ICE agents stormed the house where Titus lived after receiving an anonymous tip that “there is some ungodly, depraved homosexual promiscuity going on in the house next door.”
It turned out that Titus has a history of copulating with nonconsenting individuals including multiple attempts to mount other male dogs, a neighborhood goat, and the family’s La-Z-Boy recliner. Titus will enter a canine conversion therapy program, and if that doesn’t work, then he will be neutered.
ICE Defends Actions
In a press conference Friday morning, ICE Deputy Director Linda Shacklesworth defended the agency’s actions. “These individuals may appear harmless,” said Shacklesworth, “but so did jazz musicians in the ’30s, and look where that got us – berets, poetry, and rampant saxophone abuse.”
She added, “This isn’t about where you’re from or what you believe. It’s about ensuring no American citizen feels uncomfortable ever, even for a second, in a public setting about anything suspicious.”
When asked about the growing concern over the vague definition of “suspicious,” Shacklesworth replied, “If you have to ask what constitutes ‘suspicious,’ that just makes you sound awfully suspicious. Watch yourself.”
[Editor’s Note: ICE later clarified that a 4-year-old boy in Nebraska was mistakenly flagged after telling his daycare provider that his favorite food was “quiche.” He was released after agreeing to call it “egg pie with meat.”]
That’s the view from the bleachers. Perhaps I’m off base.
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When I was young, I was taught to be kind, polite and avoid disappointing others. But I’ve learned (the hard way) that trying to constantly please other people by saying YES to their sometimes unappealing invitations and requests can lead to rather awkward moments. I am hardwired to be a people pleaser. In fact I once took off (almost) all my clothes in public – just to avoid disappointing the crowd that had assembled to see me humiliate myself. Don’t believe me? Well, it’s true.
I tend to say Yes to most invitations, even when I really want to say No. Not long ago I received an invitation to attend a fundraising event to save – I honestly can’t recall the critter – let’s say the Western Spotted Otter – when what I really wanted to do was lie on my couch and watch football. (I’m confident my $25 donation helped save a few spotted otters.) Maybe it’s just as well I attended the boring fundraiser, as my team lost in overtime.
Every week I’m confronted with situations in which I say, “Sure, I’d be happy to… Attend your party / Donate to your cause / Read that 500-page book you insist on lending to me / Fill out your 80-question survey / Feed your cats while you’re away for two weeks,” etc… when what I really want to do is give them a more HONEST RESPONSE. I’ll explain with a few slightly altered examples that are all eerily close to actual invitations I’ve received.
A friend invited me:“Tim, a group of us are going on a 3,000-ft. elevation gain hike up Mount YulNevaMaykit (okay, so I made up the mountain’s name – I think it was actually called Mount KillaMeNow). We plan to stop at an Iranian-Vietnamese restaurant on the way home. I know this place that makes the best fried chicken testicle soup.”
My actual response: “Gosh, that sounds like fun. Thanks for inviting me. My calendar looks clear. Hey, do you think that restaurant might have a Caesar salad?”(I’m a bit of a picky eater.)
What I wanted to say as an Honest Response:Let me get this straight. You want to inflict pain and suffering on me over several hours, only to “reward” me with a dish so disgusting that it would make my cat vomit? How long have you secretly harbored a death wish for me?”
My friend: “I’ve got a great investment opportunity – if you have just $20K to put down.” Me: “Gosh, I would love to. But I can’t afford to right now. Thanks for thinking of me.” Honest Response: “Are you on crack? Seriously? Are you? Did you mistake me for Warren Buffett’s nephew? How about I invest $7.00 for a Starbucks skinny no foam latte instead?”
A relative of mine texted me:“Heard this fascinating podcast about Robert F. Kennedy Jr. He makes a lot of sense. You should really listen to it. He has some innovative ideas about how we can live to 150 by banning all vaccines and adhering to a strict diet of cauliflower, oysters, and tobacco-onion juice. The audio interview is two hours long but it goes by fast.”
My actual response:“Thanks for this. I will try to watch it in the next day or two. I have been curious about Robert F. Kennedy Jr. I had thought he was a bit of a kook, but maybe I’ve judged him unfairly.”
My Honest Response:“Thanks for this. I was looking for a way to help me get to sleep faster. This looks like just the ticket. Ever since you first voted for Trump, I was concerned you’d lost your mind. And your most recent text officially confirms it. If you never hear from me again, don’t worry. It just means I’ve blocked you on every device I own.”
An acquaintance emailed me: “Tim, as a humor writer, I thought you’d get a kick out of a humorous play I wrote that I think is hilarious. It’s based on the time my cat tried to eat some geraniums I bought for my wife. Then it threw up on her lap. What a riot. Can you read my manuscript and give me suggestions on any tweaks you might recommend? Do you think I should submit it to The New Yorker? Or the New York Times?”
My actual response:“Nick, I am honored you’d like me to read your play. What a hysterical premise. A cat throwing up. I don’t know if that’s ever been written about.”
My Honest Response: “Nick, you asked me for suggestions. Here’s one: Never even think about writing a humorous play ever again. Miraculously I’ve somehow survived to page 75. At what point does the humor start? I totally think you should send this to both publications – along with a sincere apology cover letter for wasting their time. Does this help?”
A friend named called to ask: “Tim, my daughter Empress is going to turn 23 next month. I’d like to help her celebrate this milestone birthday by throwing her an epic music festival in our backyard with some local rock bands. I’m asking guests to donate $150 to help make this a birthday Empress will never forget. I think a music festival is just the kind of therapy that will help her overcome the funk she’s been in ever since she failed to realize her dream of becoming a TikTok influencer with five million followers. Can I put you down as a YES?”
My Actual Response:“Wow, what an exciting day you have planned. I would love to attend but I’ll be out of town that weekend. But thanks for the invite, Jill.” (You didn’t actually think I’d say YES to such an insane invitation, did you?)
My Honest Response:“Um, Jill, first of all, 23 is not exactly a milestone birthday. Second, Empress? Who names their kid Empress? Was the name Queen Aphrodite already taken? Third, I really believe you need to think much BIGGER if you want to impress your darling Empress. I recommend asking each person to donate $5,000 in bitcoin. If you get a mere 200 suckers people to say yes, you probably can convince Elton John to come out of retirement and perform. And doesn’t your little social media drama queen deserve it?”
LinkedIn Recruiter: “Tim, I saw your profile on LI. You look like you’d be a great fit for this job.” Me: “Thank you very much. Actually, I’m retired. But if I think of anyone, I’ll let you know.” Honest Response: “Do you need glasses? Because you apparently failed to read my LI headline, where it reads, “RETIRED.” Besides, my PT job as a Walmart greeter keeps me very fulfilled and busy.
Of course, the next time someone texts me insisting I watch a “must-see” four-part PBS documentary series titled “Comic Sans – The Forgotten Font”, I won’t insult them with a snide, sarcastic, but honest reply. Knowing me, I’ll send back my usual, polite response: “Thank you so much for thinking of me. Sounds amazing!” – right before I press the DELETE button.
That’s the view from the bleachers. Perhaps I’m off base.
PS: If you enjoyed this week’s post, let me know by posting a comment, giving it aLikeorsharing this post on Facebook.
PS: If you enjoyed this week’s post, let me know by posting a comment, giving it a Like or sharing this post on Facebook.
