Dealing with Assholes

I'm number 14 on the waiting list at my local library for a book I couldn't possibly pass up - The Asshole Survival Guide: How to Deal with People Who Treat You Like Dirt.

Author Robert Sutton defines an asshole as "... someone who leaves us feeling demeaned, de-energized, disrespected, and/or oppressed. In other words, someone who makes you feel like dirt," and goes on to theorize that there are two types of assholes: "certified" and "temporary." Dr Sutton suggests that we all have the capacity to be temporary assholes under the proper conditions*, while a certified asshole is someone who always treats people poorly, and takes pleasure in the misery of others. For an interview in which he spells out his theories of what assholes are and why they act the way they do, check out this interview on Vox.com - "A Stanford Psychologist on the Art of Avoiding Assholes."

In the course of my life, I've had to deal with some pretty despicable human beings who reveled in making my life, and the lives of those I love, miserable. Sadly, dealing with people like that is never easy, particularly when they can't be ignored or avoided. Nevertheless, Dr Sutton suggests that one of the best, if most difficult, approaches to dealing with an asshole is to "... simply learn not to give a s**t. Not giving a s**t takes the wind out of [his] sails." He won't change, but if you're able to ignore him as if he were an annoying insect, it can help you get on with your life.

My most annoying asshole, sadly, can't be ignored ... and so I'm waiting rather impatiently for my name to creep up the waiting list for Dr Sutton's book to get some other ideas. I'm willing to try just about anything that won't attract the attention of the coroner.

Suggestions welcome.

Have a good day, and avoid assholes when you can. More thoughts tomorrow.

Bilbo

* This is true. I try hard to treat everyone well, and it takes quite a bit to wake up my inner asshole, but if someone is willing to go to enough trouble to do it, I'll gladly try to make it worth their while. The problem, sadly, is that a true certified asshole doesn't care about the feelings of anyone else, and I'm not sure that I could out-asshole a true professional.

The Violent Side of Bilbo

I tend to be a pretty easy-going person, although I do have a volcanic temper that I usually keep well under wraps. I tend to express my anger in writing (as you've probably noticed) and (as my coworkers will attest) in the occasional office rant about the ass clown du jour (lately it's usually Congress). But one of my little-known talents is that I can throw a pretty mean punch.

It's not something I've often been required to do, which is a good thing ... I could probably get off one really good punch before being used by my opponent to mop the floor ... but that punch would really be a good one. Here's the back story ...

Many years ago when Agnes was teaching ballroom dancing, one of her students was a fellow a few years younger than we who was a karate instructor. One year, he gave Agnes a karate uniform and a set of free lessons as a birthday gift and Agnes, recognizing the value of a working knowledge of karate for proper husband control, took the lessons. This lasted until the end of the gift period, when she decided she knew enough to keep me under control; however, she also decided that we should continue to support her student's business, and gently suggested that I should sign up for lessons. Being generally disposed to accepting Agnes's suggestions, I did so.

And I enjoyed it. I found that karate was an excellent way to get my muscles stretched out and toned, and learning the stylized movements of the various katas helped improve my coordination*. I even managed to break my own board with my fist of fury - not too bad for a measly white belt ...

I kept up with the lessons until I'd achieved my blue belt (an appropriate color that matched all the sparring bruises) and hurt my shoulder, but I really valued the time I spent and the lessons I learned ... which included the ability to deliver devastating punches and kicks, none of which I've ever had to use in anger.

Why did I think about this today? It was because of this article from the Atlantic Monthly: New Year's Resolution: Learn How to Throw a Punch. In retrospect, it's not a bad skill to have, even if you never need to use it. It's always better to avoid a fight, but if you have to defend yourself, it's a really good idea to know the applied physics of delivering at least one really good punch, which might be all you need.

Have a good day. Learn how to throw a punch ... you never know when some otherwise irredeemable ass clown will need it.

More thoughts tomorrow.

Bilbo

* Which is not especially remarkable at the best of times, and is matched only by my hopeless sense of direction.

Husbandly Duties

As a husband (and if you're one already, you'll know what I'm talking about), there are a lot of duties you are expected to perform. These are not always made clear to you before you actually tie the matrimonial knot, although they are buried deeply in the fine print at the bottom of the marriage license, easy to overlook in your eagerness to get to the Opening Night Special.

One of those duties is the dreaded "Accompany Your Wife/Significant Other While She Buys Clothes" ...

Pay attention, men, because I am going to impart some hard-won knowledge to you.

When you are unable to provide a convincing excuse for not accompanying your lady on a clothes-buying expedition*, it is important for you to understand why your presence is required. There are two primary reasons: (1) watch over her 87-pound purse and (2) respond to questions that have no good answer. We will address each of these in due course. Here are Bilbo's Tips for Surviving a Shopping Expedition with Your Wife/Significant Other^TM.

First, prepare yourself in advance. Ensure you have had enough to eat and drink, and be sure to have made a proper bathroom stop before departing on the expedition. You will not be able to find sustenance or relieve yourself while on duty unless there is a brief transition period between stores.

Second, seek out the most comfortable available seat in the Husbands' Corral. Most purveyors of ladies' garments have such a place, which usually has an insufficient number of uncomfortable seats for the number of glassy-eyed men patiently waiting and wishing they were almost anyplace else. The Husbands' Corral is generally well-stocked with tattered, four-year-old copies of Elle, Vogue, and similar magazines, and so ...

Take a book along. Or two. Better yet, take your Kindle, iPad, or similar device and ensure it is well-stocked with unread titles. You'll have plenty of time to read.

Next, understand that there is no safe answer to many ... if not most ... questions you will be asked. For instance, if you are asked "Does this make me look fat?", the appropriate answer is "No, dear," unless the garment in question prominently features the Goodyear logo. Also, beware the Endless Loop query, which usually goes something like this:

Lady: "Which one of these do you like better - this one" (holds up a garment) "or this one?" (holds up another garment).

You (pointing): "That one."

Lady: "Why don't you like this one?" (holds up the garment you didn't select).

You: "I do like it, but you asked which one I liked better."

Lady: "Yes, but why don't you like it?"

You: "I do like it, I just like the other one more."

Lady: "Yes, but why don't you like it?"

You: "AAARRRGGGHHH!!!"

Do not make the mistake of evaluating, whether verbally or visually, the potential purchases being modeled by nubile young ladies with whom you did not arrive at the store. Your insurance** will not cover any injuries that result. Corollary: avoid making any disapproving noises or rolling your eyes when you see a woman proudly modeling a garment so hideously inappropriate for her that it makes your gorge rise. It's her boyfriend/husband/significant other who will have to live with it, not you, and he won't appreciate being reminded of it.

Finally, ensure you are in superb physical condition before setting out on a Shopping Expedition, because you will end up loaded like a rented mule, and may be weak from hunger after many hours in the Husbands' Corral.

And those, friends, are the basic elements of Bilbo's Tips for Surviving a Shopping Expedition with Your Wife/Significant Other^TM. There are other minor rules and corollaries, but if you observe the ones I've shared with you today, you will have an even chance of returning home safely. Be strong. Other men have survived the experience, and so will you.

Have a good day. More thoughts tomorrow.

Bilbo

* A note signed by the coroner is usually, but not always, sufficient.

** Assuming you are lucky enough to have any.

The Great Male Survey, Part 2 (And a Rant)

Yesterday's post shared with you some of the results of The Great Male Survey of 2012, as reported by online magazine AskMen.com. The survey wanted to know, among other things, "what makes a 'Real Man' in 2012," coming up with such suggestions as:

“Being a great father and husband who looks after his family” (57%);
“Being a great leader and motivator” (22%);

“Having manly skills, like the ability to fix things” (6%);

“Being charismatic and popular,” (5%);

“Being wealthy” (3%); and,

“Being a great seducer and lover” (1%)*.

To this list, I might add another:

"Flushing the %#&@! toilet."

One of the amazing inventions of recent times has been the Amazing Automatically Flushing Toilet**, which has been installed in many public rest rooms. It uses a sensor to detect the departure of one's backside from the seat, automatically triggering a flush which - voila! - removes the offending political statements.

The problem arises when the Amazing Automatically Flushing Toilet doesn't automatically flush ... and the clueless dumbass*** who has just voted wanders off without pushing the emergency flush button****, leaving an unpleasant surprise for the next visitor.

So, here's a message to Real Men everywhere: make sure the toilet flushes when you are done. We don't need to hear your intimate cell phone call with your girlfriend from the next stall, and we certainly don't need to see how well your colon operates.

Thank you.

Have a good day. Flush. Twice, if necessary. More thoughts tomorrow.

Bilbo

* You knew some clown had to put that one in.

** It is, sadly, not true that Thomas Crapper invented the flush toilet. Read all about it here.

*** He was probably distracted by his cell phone conversation ... we all know that public rest room stalls provide privacy and security for your most sensitive and personal discussions.

**** Yes, there is one!

Bachelor, Class B (Geographical)

A while back, I introduced you to some military slang with the term "tracks" as used to describe the insignia of a Captain (in the Army, Air Force, or Marine Corps, that is ... the Navy has to be different, and a Navy Captain is the same as a Colonel in the other services. Go figure.).

Today, we take another stroll through the vocabulary of military service as I describe my current condition ...

Yesterday Agnes departed for her trip to Germany to visit her cousin Anna in Reutlingen and her parents in Singen am Hohentwiel, landing in Frankfurt a full 45 minutes ahead of schedule in spite of the ongoing ground workers strike. She'll be gone for two weeks, leaving me - in the slang of the military - a "Class B" or "geographical" Bachelor.

A person in military service is often transferred on a temporary basis to a location other than his (or her) usual duty station. The Army and Air Force refer to such an assignment as "temporary duty," or "TDY;" the Navy, again having to go its own way, refers to it as "temporary assigned duty," or "TAD."

In the olden days, before there were large numbers of women in the Service, it was generally the husbands who left for TDY or TAD, for periods ranging from a few days to six months. These husbands often referred to themselves as "Class B" or "geographical" bachelors ... single by virtue of distance. Some men took this as an opportunity to fish in new waters and plow distant fields, if you get my drift; others used it as a chance to catch up on sleep, read a few new books, or buff up with some extra time in the gym. Wives generally tended to assume the former, and Class B bachelors returning from their trips were carefully examined by their suspicious spouses for the presence of stray female hairs or lipstick stains on clothing.

I am fortunate in that Agnes has full faith and trust in my faithfulness in her absence. Leaving aside for the moment the fact that I think fooling around is wrong, being married to a German redhead is a great motivator of fidelity. We all know about the image of the fiery redhead ... and the warlike German ... now combine the two, and ... well, let's just say that it's a lot safer to be faithful.

There's also the ankle bracelet and the GPS tracker. And a reinforced battalion of friends at the dance studio and around the neighborhood who serve in the unofficial Spousal Fidelity Monitoring Service.

And then there's Nessa, who is charged with barking ferociously at any woman under 75 who approaches the house or comes within 50 feet while we're out for walks.

The ladies in this family stick together.

So, this Class B (Geographical) Bachelor will be spending the next two weeks cleaning house, walking Nessa, playing with the grandchildren, and generally being a good boy. Because who knows? - Agnes may bring me a treat when she gets back.

One can only hope.

Have a good day. Faithfully. More thoughts tomorrow.

Bilbo

How Do You Know When It's Bad?

This is an important question, because we need guidelines that help us avoid things that will make us sick. Well, other than Congress, the GOP, and the Democratic and the Tea Parties, because we've pretty much got to swallow them whether they make us sick or not. Here are some guidelines on detecting things that have gone bad (the original list I found on Miss Cellania, as modified by yours truly) ...

General Rule of Thumb #1: Most food cannot be kept for longer than the average human lifespan.

General Rule of Thumb #2: Anything that walks out of the refrigerator under its own power is no longer likely to be edible.

General Rule of Thumb #3: If it didn't have hair on it when you put it away, but it does now, it's probably gone bad.

Eggs: When something starts pecking its way out of the shell, the egg is probably past its prime.

Dairy Products: Milk is spoiled when it starts to look like yoghurt. Yoghurt is spoiled when it starts to look like cottage cheese. Cottage cheese is spoiled when it starts to look like regular cheese. Regular cheese is nothing but spoiled milk anyway.

Mayonnaise: If the year of the use-by date starts with 19, its probably off.

Meat #1: If opening the fridge door causes stray animals from a three mile radius to congregate outside your house, the meat is spoiled.

Meat #2: If buzzards are circling lazily over your back yard as you get ready to put the meat on the grill, you should probably consider just a salad.

Lettuce: Lettuce is spoiled when you find a puddle of brownish goo in the place you thought you left a head of lettuce.

Canned Goods: Any canned goods that have become the size or shape of a basketball should be disposed of … carefully.

Carrots: A carrot that you can tie into a knot like a shoelace is not fresh.

Wine: Should not taste like salad dressing.

Salad Dressing: Should not taste like cheap wine.

Nacho Dip: If you can take it out of its container and bounce it on the floor, it's gone bad.

Rice: If individual grains are wiggling, it's no longer edible.

Don't thank me. It's all part of my plan to keep you all around and reading my blog for a long time.

And stay away from those Republicans and Democrats ... even if they don't make you throw up, they'll rot your brain.

Have a good day. More thoughts tomorrow.

Bilbo