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Notes from Tampa

It occurs to me that there are a lot of things that I proclaim to not understand. Why women where those ridiculous looking sweat suit outfits, why no corporate chain of eateries can actually COOK their own food instead of microwaving it, why the idea of sizes of items have been abolished for kitschy little, “love it, like it, gotta have it,” descriptions, etc. Like I said, a lot of things make no sense to me.

One thing you will never hear me proclaim lack of understanding for is the death of any my relationships. It’s pretty much the subject where I will wax poetically or practically about facts of the entire experience and how the writing was on the wall. Even my friendships never really erupt with some semblance of confusion and anger. They pretty much follow Kurt Cobain’s advice and fade away. This can be somewhat problematic.

Awhile back, I decided that I would put a moratorium on friends that really tended to drag me down. Lifelong, supportive people could stick around, but I would do little to befriend truly problematic associates ever again. The reasoning was that they tended to always make it my fault for why our friendship was strained. That I started to distance myself from them, cared very little for their problems but demanded time for my own narcissism, and rarely made time for them among my life. Also, I could be mean. Now, here’s the rub: this was all true. Still is. Awhile back, I became friends with a guy named Arun. He was the couch-surfing, alcoholic madman of college days past and was also always the smartest guy in the room regarding advice on silly problems. The facts were all he cared about and he would objectively lay down a law that you would be stupid not to obey. Sometimes I hear his voice when I offer similar advice. Regardless, Arun once asked me why I gave a shit about people that caused their own problems and demanded sympathy for their own mess. Why was it MY job to be that ever-present shoulder? I said, “that’s what friends do.” He laughed as if I’d just said the single most naïve statement ever. He never did provide an answer to his own question. He just said, “you’ll figure it out.” I did.

The fact is that friends are there for each other. When you need a ride to a doctor’s appointment, an ally after a break-up, or even just a quick monetary loan. Friends are supposed to be there when it counts. Enablers, on the other hand, are supposed to be there 24/7. Being a shoulder to cry on is being an enabler. Especially when these people who demand to know, “what you think they should do,” ignore you and follow their impulses and then demand you not tell them, “I told you so.” Enablers are supposed to be emo yes-men that give you sympathy without pity and a sense of companionship to wallow in. Friendship is about being there for someone. Enabling is about condoning lunacy. Einstein once said, “Insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result.” Eventually, I’d like to not be right when I say, “don’t date your co-worker,” or “that girl sounds insane. Don’t sleep with her.” I’d like these people to come to me with happy endings instead of solemn expressions of “I should have known better.”

In the end, no one is right. I’m not some guru or genius. I’m rarely even all that bright myself with my own decisions. I screw up just as much as my contemporaries. I’ll freely admit this. I’m in no way the smartest guy in the room. Just the one that tends to be trying to burst a bubble I’ve been in before. I’m just passing on words handed down from my father, from Arun, the Law, Big Gabe, Will, whoever. No one can know all these people and no one could have received their advice when I’d almost made similar experiences and had them stop me. That’s all good advice is: you repeating the words of wiser people. You should always listen to the descenters. Another great quote, “if you’re dumb, surround yourself with smart people. If you’re smart, surround yourself with smart people who disagree with you.”

posted by AmeroKafka @ 3:34 AM