Steve Hofstetter is every kid who’s ever been bullied in school. Or who’s ever been the new kid. Or who’s ever not fit in, but desperately wanted to.
In Ginger Kid, Steve takes us with him on a journey through his awkward adolescance. From eighth grade through getting accepted into college, Steve shares what it’s like to grow up a Jewish, red-head in Queens.
Many people know Steve from his YouTube channel, where his most popular videos have millions of views. You might also know him from columns he’s written for the New York Times, SportsIllustrated.com or NHL.com. You might even know him from his TV work on Fox and FS1. But, you probably know him from the 300 stand-up comedy shows he does every year.
But, if you read Ginger Kid expecting it to be an extension of his stand up work, or a literary version of his heckler videos, it’s not. It’s better. (Okay, the heckler videos are literally examples of his stand up work.)
Ginger Kid is a Young Adult book. It’s written for the same audience that it describes. Although I grew up on the opposite side of the country from New York City, I found lots of reflections of myself in Steve’s stories. From divorced parents, to being funny to fit in at a new school. At just under 300 pages, it’s a book I will return to in the future.
What I Liked
Being familiar with Steve’s stand up comedy, I was expecting a more mature themed book. One of the first surprises was how effortlessly Steve brought the voice of a teenage boy to life. It’s a book I can encourage my kids to read. That surprised me, more than I like to admit.
The stories Steve shares are each entertaining in and of themselves. He also weaves them together into a story arc that is compelling. He frames the entire sequence like a comedy show: Opener, Feature, Headliner. He casts himself in the role of each person, his own confidence matching the proficiency of each progressively better performer. It’s a compelling storytelling method.
The book is also filled with bits of wit and wisdom, some worthy of a teenager, some evidence of much more maturity.
Oh, and Steve is a baseball fan. I really like that part of the book.
What I Didn’t
Steve tells us about friends and does a good job of introducing each one. However, I read the book over the course of about a week. That meant I would set the book aside for a time and when I picked it up again. Like an experienced comedian, Steve would freqeuently call back to prior stories or people. It was sometimes hard to remember on later references just who he was referring to.
By necessity, Steve had to pick and choose which experiences and people to focus on. He does a good job of building it all into a story. It also means that he touches on certain scenes or people and then moves on. Several times I found myself ending a scene and feeling I wanted to spend a little more time with the people I’d met. I’m sure I probably would have felt that way no matter how many words Steve had written about them.
What It Means To You
I can wholeheartedly recommend Ginger Kid. If you are already a Redophile (A fan of Steve’s comedy) then Ginger Kid is going to give you some insight into how he became the comedian you enjoy. If you are new to Steve’s comedy, Ginger Kid is still an entertaining read. If you weren’t the nerd in high school, you probably knew him. If you weren’t bullied, you probably saw it happen.
Ginger Kid is a hopeful story of how the geek, the nerd, the awkward kid, eventually grows up. We all have our high school memories. Ginger Kid lets you share in Steve’s memories.
My Rating
Three out of four stars. . .plus an extra half star because. . .baseball.
Rodney M Bliss is an author, columnist and IT Consultant. His blog updates every weekday. He lives in Pleasant Grove, UT with his lovely wife, thirteen children and grandchildren.
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They scheduled me for a physical. I don’t know why they scheduled me for a physical. It’s a good thing that I don’t get anxious about physicals. Because, I called them about anxiety.
I hate not being able to do something. Especially if it’s something I think I should be able to do. I have severe ADHD. It’s a thing. I had to discover that as an adult. My childhood makes so much more sense now. ADHD doesn’t define me, but it does affect me. Caffeine is my drug of choice. That’s ironic, considering that as a practicing Mormon I don’t drink coffee or tea.
I have gotten pretty good at identifying when my ADHD is making me a little crazy. A Coke, or an “Energy” packet in a bottle of water typically get me back on track.
But, this was different. This was . . .out of control. I had a general feeling of dread. My boss asked me to attend a meeting in Vicksberg with him. I worried it was so he could fire me, or at least reprimand me. Of course, it wasn’t true. A couple months ago I had a panic attack on a plane. I never have panic attacks.
Something was going on. I was trying to complete some online education classes. I had six left. Three of them were writing classes. It got so bad I couldn’t read the syllabus. I couldn’t even think about the courses without my hands literally shaking.
I’m fairly introspective. I don’t do anything at work, for example, without first thinking it through and being deliberate. If I’m sad, I generally know what set me off. But, this was different.
I did my normal “introspective” thing. But, when I thought about why I might be avoiding the classes, I got. . .nothing. Or if I got anything it was dread. Fear. Terror. And the shakes.
Eventually, I was reading an interview that Tom Arnold gave. In it he described being diagnosed with Anxiety. And he described me to a T.
The first step in solving a problem is naming it. My problem was named Anxiety. As I got to know him, I realized that he’s been around for awhile. He’s been living rent free in my head for months.
Friends online offered their own perspective. I discovered that my Anxiety was different than literally everyone elses. But, we all had pieces in common. They also encouraged me to not try to fight this fight alone.
They needn’t have worried. I’m a big believer in doctors, drugs and therapy. Today was steps one and two. My doctor perscribed Lexapro. We’ll give it a month and see how it works. Next step is therapy.
Sounds like you’ve been dealing with this for quite a while.
Yeah, he’s been living rent free in my head.
Well, we’ll figure out how to make him start paying rent.
Actually, I’m hoping to evict him.
Even better.
I’ve lived with him for so long, I’m anxious to figure out what life without him is like. But, that’s not causing anxiety.
The end
Rodney M Bliss is an author, columnist and IT Consultant. His blog updates every weekday. He lives in Pleasant Grove, UT with his lovely wife, thirteen children and grandchildren.
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My boys had two sporting events this week. One was a Sophomore football game in Pleasant Grove. The other was a Cross Country meet in Salt Lake City.
The football game was today. My son plays cornerback. The other team ran all their plays away from him today. Considering there’s been a week worth of tape to watch, I told him that’s a good sign. The game ended 48 to 13 in favor of the home team. As we filed out of the stadium to wait for the boys to come out of the locker room, several of us parents talked about the dominance of our boys’ sophomore team. In fact, I learned that high school, at least at the sophomore level, has a mercy rule. The clock ran without interruption for the last 10 minutes.
We knew who won.
Yesterday we were at a Cross Country meet for another son. If you’ve ever seen the movie Mcfarland USA, it gives a pretty good idea of what a cross country meet is like. The entire team runs the 3 mile course. (My son pointed out it was 3 point two miles.)
The meet had five teams competing. Each team had about twenty to twenty five runners. So, the start saw a couple hundred boys start off. Over the course of 3 miles, the boys are going to each run at a slightly different pace.
We watched the start from a nearby hillside. We then walked up the hill to watch the boys run by at that part of the course. Then, we walked down toward the finish line. The boys ran three laps around the course before they peeled off at the last minute and sprinted toward the finish line. Or, sprinted as much as they could after running three miles.
We, cheered not just my son, but anyone running passed wearing a Pleasant Grove jersey. My son wasn’t the first PG runner and he wasn’t the last. He had a great kick at the end and finished very strong.
He came and found us after the race.
How’d you do?
I felt pretty good.
Do you know where you placed?
No, that will be posted tomorrow.
Do you know how well your team did?
No. They won’t have the points counted for awhile.
Well. . .see you at home.
He jogged back to where his team was gathering their gear to get on the bus. The match was over but he didn’t know how he’d done or how his team had done.
My job is to fix stuff that breaks. The “stuff” I’m typically fixing are processes. Sometimes an outage call is over in less than an hour. Sometimes they last for many hours. But, at the end, I know that we are done and that everyone is back up and running.
I’m also responsible for helping to create our disaster recovery plan. Our DR plan, also called a Business Continuity Plan (BCP) describes the processes we would follow in the event of a disaster. We recently had an exercise where we chose a fictitious disaster and talked through how we would respond as a company and as individual departments.
It occured to me that football is like the outages I have to deal with on occasion. At the end, for better or for worse, it’s over and I “know the score.”
Our BCP is more like cross country. It’s really long and I’m not sure if we have it exactly right or not. I’m not sure of the score and we won’t know until long after we put the plan in place.
(Oh, and my son was 9th on his team and his team took 5th in the 5 team meet.)
Rodney M Bliss is an author, columnist and IT Consultant. His blog updates every weekday. He lives in Pleasant Grove, UT with his lovely wife, thirteen children and grandchildren.
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My nephew started a new advernture today. He entered the Missionary Training Center for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Like me, and like his father before him, he became an Mormon missionary.
It’s something that young Mormon boys look forward to. There’s even a song, “I Hope They Call Me On A Mission.” My nephew will spend two weeks at the MTC in Provo, Utah and then fly to his mission assignment. He’ll work in the mission field for two years. At the end of that time, he’ll head back to his home in Washington and join the ranks of Mormon men known as Returned Missionary. It’s a rite of passage that in the eyes of many in the LDS church, he will leave a boy and come back a man.
I’m in the middle of a major repair on my son’s 1991 Chrysler New Yorker 5th Avenue. I’m replacing the power steering pump and alternator. It’s a major repair job. Their are pieces of the engine scattered across my garage. It’s the second time I’ve done this repair.
Although technically it’s the first time, I’ve done it. Last time my cousin Nick came and helped me. And by “helped me” I mean he pretty much did the hard parts. This time, I’m not going as fast, but I’m doing the work myself.
Five years ago, shortly after we moved to this neighborhood, my neighbor started helping me repair cars. I had plenty of tools, but not a lot of experience with major repairs and not a lot of confidence. I was a boy.
I hesitate to call myself a car guy. But, I remind myself that every car guy I know “knows a guy.” In other words, every expert has an additional expert that he goes to. People come to me for car advice and I in turn go to my friend. And he in turn goes to his expert.
Somewhere in the past couple years I went from being the apprentice to the journeyman. I went from boy to man.
My first real job out of college was working for WordPerfect corporation. I started as a telephone technician. I had worked that job in college and I also worked a summer job rewiring the entire BYU campus. I was “the wiring guy.” WordPerfect was building a brand new campus in Orem.
The new buildings had lots of wiring. Thousands of lines. And every single 4 pair cable had to have the wires in exactly the right order: Blue/White, Orange/White, Green/White, Brown/White, Slate/White. If any of the wires got crossed, computers wouldn’t work. Phones wouldn’t work. My job at WordPerfect was to install new phones. It was someone else’s job to pull the wire and make sure it was properly punched down.
But, occasionally, when they just couldn’t figure out what was wrong, they called me. We didn’t have fancy trace equipment back in 1988. We had toners and sniffers. Basically, you put an electronic tone on a line and then you took tool that detected that tone and waved it around the wiring closet hoping to hear it start chirping.
It occured to me that even as a young kid, (Okay, I was 25, but that was very young compared to today) I had a profession. I only stayed in the telecome team for about a year. But, it was the first time I was doing a “real” job. I was no longer doing a job. I had switched to a career.
In a corporate sense, I had gone from boy to man.
I enjoy working with interns and new employees. Generally, you only get one chance to grow up. The transition, whether it’s in your religion, your hobbies, or your profession is the time when boys become men.
Rodney M Bliss is an author, columnist and IT Consultant. His blog updates every weekday. He lives in Pleasant Grove, UT with his lovely wife, thirteen children and grandchildren.
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Do you need it chilled?
I was in Guangzhou, China. I was at dinner with a group of Chinese adoption specialists, and my new 2 year old son. The person asking the question was “Richard,” our guide/adoption facilitator.
I’m sure Richard wasn’t his real name. I’m also sure I would have struggled to pronounce his Chinese name. As the only American at the table, I was conscious of my conspicuousness. I had ordered a Coke. Having travelled in other parts of the world before, I knew to ask for it still in the sealed can.
Did I want it chilled?
Americans have a reputation internationally. We are known as being loud, rude and requiring ice in our drinks. I didn’t want to be that American.
No, that’s okay. It doesn’t need to be chilled.
It arrived feeling like it had sat in the South China sun for an hour. But, I wasn’t that American.
In fact, I don’t often chill my drinks. I drink a fair amount of water and soda. I cut out soda for a long time, but the sodas “hencho en Mexico” sucked me back in. They are made with real sugar rather than high fructose corn syrup. And best of all they come in glass bottles.
My point is that I’ve become accustomed to drinking them at room temperature. It’s just too much work to go find ice and take up space in the refrigerator.
But, not everyone is like me. Many people can’t stand to drink water if it’s not cold. I understand that. This post is for you.
I go hiking a lot in Utah’s deserts and mountains. Water is life in the desert. We push the boy scouts to drink enough. As leaders we also have to set an example, and drink enough ourselves. If you don’t like warm water, it’s horrible.
I have a solution for you. At least if you only hike for a few hours. It’s a 2 liter bottle solution. I think 2 liter bottles are great. We use them at home for water storage. I take them on campouts. Even a weeklong campout, you can take a bunch and toss them in a bin and use them as you need them.
For backbacking, they are wonderful. They fit into a backpack and you don’t have to worry about them leaking. And if you lose your bottle, you aren’t out anything. And finally, if you are reusing the bottle for hiking or camping, it’s not going into a landfill.
I’m a big fan of 2 liter bottles. But, how to keep them cool? Sure, you could store them in the refridgerator. But, they take up a lot of room. The mouth of the bottles is too small to try to shove ice cubes down.
Instead, store them in the freezer. Not full, because a solid chunk of 4 lbs of water is not really convenient. But, you can still use the freezer to help you chill your hiking water.
Start with an empty bottle
Fill it with enough water so the water level is below the mouth when you turn it sideways
Now freeze it on its side. Make sure the water is still below mouth.
When you are ready to head out hiking, fill it with water. The ice will keep it cool for hours.
One other story about that Chinese restaurant. At one point the waiter brought out a roasted pigeon. The entire pigeon. Richard said,
The guest of honor gets to eat the head.
Ah. . .thanks, but I’m really not that important
I’ll just sit here and drink my warm coke.
Rodney M Bliss is an author, columnist and IT Consultant. His blog updates every weekday. He lives in Pleasant Grove, UT with his lovely wife, thirteen children and grandchildren.
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Most of this stuff is new. . .
The young comic was trying to salvage whatever he could of a bad set. He was new and it showed. Not because he had some Manufactured On date. And it wasn’t even his looks. He blended in well with the other new comedians at the Open Mic. But, he was obviously still new to performing and his statement “most of this stuff is new. . .” was a dead giveaway.
I spoken in Church yesterday. The Mormon church has a lay ministry. That means that everyone working to hold services is a volunteer, from the bishop who presides over the congregation (which is called a ward) to the people who deliver the sermon. Well, yesterday, that was me.
I have a confession to make. I enjoy speaking in public. I was a member of Toastmasters for many years, but even before that, I had a ball speaking in front of people. Yesterday I started my remarks with,
I wish I could say that I’m sorry to be here, or that I wish the previous speakers or the song had gone on longer. I can’t say that. I am honestly delighted to be addressing you today and I appreciate the opportunity.
How well I spoke, or how well I delivered a sermon on “small and simple things,” I’ll leave up to those who were there. I know I enjoyed it.
I used that opening on purpose. Because regular members of the congregation are the ones who are called on to deliver messages across the pulpit, many members of the ward have stood where I was standing. What for me was a joy, for them was a terror. It’s almost universally accepted that they will start with a version of,
I wish I could say I’m happy to be here. . .
I don’t begrudge anyone’s fear of public speaking. Some polls show people are more afraid of public speaking than they are of death. Meaning they would rather die than give a talk in public. I feel for those people. I am grateful that is not one of my fears.
But, if you find you must speak in public, there are a couple of things you can do to prevent shooting yourself in the foot. . .or the mouth as the case may be.
Several years ago, I was touring a series of new homes here in Utah in an event called the “Parade of Homes.” It’s an annual event where builders across the valley will show off one house that they’ve constructed. Home prices can span the gamut from starter homes to multi-million dollar mansions. We were touring one particularly impressive home. It had soaring celings, a covered bridge over a manmade stream, numerous upgrades and amenities. I asked the builder, who was contracting for the home owner,
How much did this house cost to build?
I’m not sure, actually. I wasn’t the finance guy.
But, more than I’ve got, right? Ha ha
I don’t know. Just from looking at you I can’t tell how much money you have.
That brief conversation has stuck with me. The people you meet do not know you. They don’t know if you are first time speaker, or if you’ve done it a thousand times. In fact, if you are being asked to speak somewhere, people in the audiance are predisposed to thinking you have something to say. They are generally going to give you the benefit of the doubt. Why would you give it back?
Speakers who start their remarks by saying, “I don’t want to be here speaking,” are suggesting to the audience the idea that maybe they don’t want to be here listening. Just as a comic who says, “Most of this stuff is new” is telling his audience, “These jokes will probably not be very funny.”
I’m not suggesting you lie. If you really are terrified, don’t give my opening saying you are delighted to be there. But, also don’t insult the audience. They want to like you. Give them the chance.
Rodney M Bliss is an author, columnist and IT Consultant. His blog updates every weekday. He lives in Pleasant Grove, UT with his lovely wife, thirteen children and grandchildren.
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No, I didn’t suddenly go back to high school. I don’t actually get a summer vaction. Well, sure I can take one, but it’s not like it was back in school. It’s not free.
Fortunately my company has a generous personal time off, PTO, policy. I’ve been there nearly five years and I typically struggler to actually take all my personal days rather than the other way around.
My company has it set up where each employee is awarded all their personal time for the year at the beginning of the year. I “earn” it month by month, but I can use it immediately. If I leave mid year, there’s some accounting work that needs to happen, I think. I don’t know, I haven’t left in the middle of the year. Actually, I haven’t left at all, so there’s that.
As the summer draws to a close, I realized there were some projects I hadn’t completed. Trying to do them after hours just wasn’t getting me through the list quick enough.
I decided to take some time off this week. My projects mostly revolved around cars.
– My son’s 1991 Chrysler New Yorker 5th Avenue needed a new power steering pump and alternator.
– My “new” 1994 Dodge Dakota needed a new relay to to fix the blower. It also needed a to be registered and have new license plates put on
– My 1996 Lexus ES300 needed. . .well, it needed to run before I could figure out what else it needed
– My 2012 Chevy van needed some cosmetic trim work
And I set aside an entire week to focus on it. Except the first two days work intervened. I’m still the outage guy at my company. If something breaks they call me. And stuff broke. And then on Tuesday I broke.
I don’t get sick. It’s not something I do. I can’t really take credit for it really. Still, I can’t take credit when the Mariners win, but I still do. And the Mariners make the playoffs about as often as I get sick.
Well, the Mariners must have a shot this year, because I certainly got sick. Not just “I don’t feel so good.” That started on Tuesday afternoon. By Tuesday evening, I was miserable. By Wednesday morning (3:00 AM is technically morning) I was barfing my guts out.
Interesting pro-tip: a plastic bathroom waste basket lined with a WalMart bag makes a wonderful barf bucket. No mess. Cleans up easy. You don’t have to worry about that awkward “sloshing” when you go to clean it out. (You’re welcome.)
Wednesday was a waste. I didn’t eat. (Who can eat?) I managed to sip a little water and the universal “Hey, I’m sick as a dog” drink – Sprite.
Thursday was better. I ate crackers and added Ginger Ale to my Sprite drink order.
So, today? I worked on cars. I pulled the water pump out of my son’s Chyrsler. I put new plates on my Dakota.
It doesn’t really matter that I took sick days instead of vacation days. Part of the reason my company is so generous is that all our personal time, vacation and sick is rolled into one.
I’ll only end up using three personal days, 24 hours, since even though I’m salary, we measure our personal days in hours. As a telecommunication company, we measure everything in hours.
So, here comes the weekend, one more day I’ll spend working on cars and then I get to speak in church on Sunday.
It’s been 16 years since the Seattle Mariners made the playoffs. I haven’t kept track, but I may have been that long since I last got sick enough to throw up.
I’m just hoping it’s a good omen as the team heads into the last month of the season.
Rodney M Bliss is an author, columnist and IT Consultant. His blog updates every weekday. He lives in Pleasant Grove, UT with his lovely wife, thirteen children and grandchildren.
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Of course parents have favorites. . .and the one that just tried to flush the cat down the toilet is not the favorite.
My kids are all too old to try to flush the cat the down the toilet. And we never had a cat. But, the sentiment is true. Parents have favorites.
Ask my two brothers and me who was our parent’s favorite and you are likely to get a 2-1 vote split, but I think my little brother might actually make it unanimous.
As parents we don’t try to play favorites. It’s not a good thing to have favorites. You’re not supposed to have favorites. . .right?
My son had his first high school football game today. In fact, considering this is the first year we’ve let him play football, he had his football game ever today. We never let any of our other boys play football. They really begged, too. Finally, they picked Rugby instead. It was safer.
But, this kid gets to play football. And today was his first game. Of course, we were in the stands.
He plays cornerback. That’s a position on defense where you have to guard the opposing team’s wide receivers. Wide receivers are typically the fastest players on the team.
It wasn’t until the 2nd quarter that my son got into the game.
Hey, look! He’s in!
Oh, look, they are running a play to his side.
Uh oh. I think that was his guy.
Did they serously just gain 65 yards on ONE PLAY!
His first play from scrimmage and he blew the coverage and gave up a long pass. This is not good. Before he’d made if off the field, his friend, a starting wide receiver for our team, had given him an encouraging pat on the shoulders. We have a great group of coaches. Two different coaches immeadiately pulled him aside. We couldn’t hear what they were saying from our seat in the grandstand, but it was obvious they were explaining what happened and reassuring him that he was a good player.
He was typically only brought in for obvious pass plays. Midway through the third quarter, our team clinging to a scant 3 point lead, the other team ran a play to the opposite side from my son. As the running-back curled around the end of the line, he picked up a couple blockers and streaked up the opposite sideline. He would have easily scored, if my son hadn’t blazed across the field from the opposite side, catching him to save the touchdown.
All thoughts of the earlier play were gone. This was fun.
I have two sons in high school. My other boy runs cross country. Both boys have always been great runners. My second son has a meet on Saturday. And we’ll be in the stands. . .except I’m not sure they have stands for cross country. Still, we’ll be there cheering him on. I doubt he’ll tackle anyone. But, he will run fast. I also seriously doubt he’ll blow a coverage.
He wants to compete at the Footlocker Cross Country Championships in Walnut, California in December. We’ll see how much he is willing to focus on helping his team and staying focused. But, we haven’t ruled it out.
I also have a daughter in high school. She’s in the choir. Tonight there was a parents meeting to go over a fundraiser they are planning for next month. They are trying to raise funds to go to New York City in March. They talked about how people can buy mattresses through the fundraiser and the school, and the kids get money for every sale. The guy giving the presentation was a little too polished for my taste. At one point he had a 15 year old high school girl holding four hundred dollar bills. Still it appears it will be a great deal for people who want a matteress. One in ten people in Utah will buy a mattress this year. I know, because he said so.
It sounds like a fun trip. It will be about $1300 per student. The choir director talked about the exciting venues they will be singing in. My daughter was most excited about Trintiy Church where Alexander Hamilton of “Hamilton” fame is buried. They are looking for chaperones. (No offense, but NYC is probably one of my least favorite places to visit.) I told her I’m thinking about it.
My oldest daughter showed up to the football game, along with three of my favorite people in the world, my grandkids. She makes sure that the kids enjoy getting to hang out with Grammy and Papa. It brightens my heart every time I see them.
My other children are equally remarkable. So, do I have a favorite? Absolutely.
At kickoff my favorite was the kid who made the touchdown saving tackle.
On Saturday it will be the kid who loves to run.
This evening it was the girl with the angel voice.
And during the game it was the mother of my grandkids.
So, yeah, I play favorites. Just don’t tell any of my kids.
Rodney M Bliss is an author, columnist and IT Consultant. His blog updates every weekday. He lives in Pleasant Grove, UT with his lovely wife, thirteen children and grandchildren.
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or email him at rbliss at msn dot com(c) 2018 Rodney M Bliss, all rights reserved
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My daughter was a sophomore in high school. Because of a move from Washington to Utah she ended up “a head” in the school district math curriculm. As a result she was taking Advanced Placement Calculus as a sophomore.
She was an exceptional student and breezed through most of her classes including math, without too much effort. At the end of the year she sat for the AP exam. It was no surprise when her score came back, the highest possible score of 5.
This score meant that she would get college credit for math. It also put her into a fairly exclusive group of girls who were good at STEM (Science Technology Engineering Math) skills. These are the students that colleges really want to have come to their school. There are typically plenty of scholarships, interships and career paths open to them.
It didn’t turn out that way. In fact, my daughter never took a math class after high school. Her explanation?
I’m good at math, but I don’t really like it.
I have a son who is 6’4″. Well, he was the last time he checked. He’s mostly grown now, but to say he’s not obsessed about his height would be an understatement.
I’ve played basketball, as a hobby, my entire life. I was always the shortest of my two brothers. One is 6’3″ the other is 6’5″. We are all well into middle-age and we still play. My lack of height definitely handicapped me when it came to playing. You would think my son is great. After all, you cannot coach height.
The truth is I don’t think I’ve ever seen him pick up a basketball. And he probably never will. If the conversation turns to his height, his comments are likely to be,
Being tall is a pain.
I don’t want to keep getting taller.
Do you know how tough it is to find pants that fit?
He would be good at it, but he just doesn’t like it.
I’ve done well at most jobs I’ve had in my life. Some I liked, some I didn’t. Being good at something and enjoying it are not gauranteed to be mutually compatible.
Rodney M Bliss is an author, columnist and IT Consultant. His blog updates every weekday. He lives in Pleasant Grove, UT with his lovely wife, thirteen children and grandchildren.
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or email him at rbliss at msn dot com(c) 2018 Rodney M Bliss, all rights reserved
Tell your friends about this!
Everyone gets unfriended on occasion, right? Maybe you were a little too vocal about your position on the 2nd Amendment. Maybe people didn’t want to see “just one more post” about Star Trek Attack Wing.
The fact is, it happens. It’s an odd experience emotionally. Typically, it happens after some online flame war. With accusations thrown back and forth, ad hominem attacks, memes and more memes.
And let’s be honest, if it wasn’t for the adrenhiline rush of burning up the keyboard, most of us wouldn’t waste our time.
But, what about when you do everything right? What about when you are completely supportive. You don’t argue. You agree with the person and you still get unfriended? What is that about?
Cognitive Dissonance
It’s the state of having inconsistent thoughts, beliefs or attitudes especially as relating to behavioral decisions and attitutde change. (Yeah, I Googled it.)
Congitive dissonance is when reality doesn’t match your world view. For example, if I see a homeless person begging on the street, and then he walks into a Ferrari dealership and pays cash for a new car, those two pieces of information are really difficult for me to hold in my head at the same time.
Where it gets really touchy is when it comes to people’s belief structures. There’s a perception that Conservatives are racists. Some people honestly believe that if you are a Conservative you are racist, even if you don’t believe it yourself.
I’m a Conservative. I have at times been accused of being racist. Generally at that point in the discussion, I reveal the fact that 7 of my 13 children are black. I’m also called anti-immigrant, because all Conservatives are. 9 of my 13 children are from other countries. Generally the online conversation stops at this point. Mostly because the facts of my situation:
– Conservative
– Black children
– Immigrants
…don’t match with the other person’s world view of what constitutes a Conservative.
I had a somewhat disappointing interaction yesterday. An aquaintance I know is suing the Mormon Church. She was abused by her father for years and feels the Church covered it up. Technically, she’s suing her father, but she’s really trying to go after the church.
She’s very angry. I fully understand her anger and her frustration. And I sympathize with her. In fact, I’ve on multiple occasions offered words of encouragement.
Yesterday she posted a meme aimed at those would defend her dad (who was never brought to justice.) I commented that it’s terrible that this abuse has been going on for so long.
My friend misunderstood my comment.
You think this abuse ONLY happened in the past? It’s happening now!!
I, of course, apologize for the misunderstanding. Of course, I believe it’s happening now. I was pretty effusive in my apology.
My friend wasn’t satisfied. She asked me about the abuse that happened in my family in the past. My results were different than hers, but I acknowledged that mine was unique. And how sorry I was for the abuse that she had to endure.
Still, she wasn’t satisfied. She finally dug through my personal facebook page and found a meme that said,
“Keep calm
And Remember
You are a Mason”
This is from your page. This is why you are the way you are.
I agree. Do you see Masonry as a good thing or a bad thing?
Most Masons will tell you that they are the men they are because of the teaching of Masonry. I know it’s thought of as a secretive society that’s in league with the illuminati to take over the world. But, honestly? It’s a bunch of guys getting together talking about how to a better bunch of guys.
Anyway, anyone who is a Mason will readily admit to it.
That was enough of a condemnation for my friend. She unfriended me after that.
I, of course, considered the conversation. She kept trying to find something to dislike about me, some attitude or belief that she could seize on to condemn me. I simply refused to give her any. I wasn’t fighting with her. I was supporting her. But, that was something she couldn’t abide.
Her world view is that the Mormon church is bad. . .evil even. And everyone who willingly remains a member is either evil or naive. She needed to maintain her belief. I refused to conform to her stereotype. I created too much cognitive dissonance and she could not remain friends with me.
Several months ago I wrote about Luther and how he ghosted on me after a five year friendship. It hurt at the time. Looking back, I think it was a similar issue. I refused to conform to the stereotype that Luther had of Conservative white guys. It got to be too much and instead of addressing his own biases, he simply eliminated me from his life.
So, if you find yourself on the receiving end of an unfriend request, keep in mind that it really might be you. But, it’s not your fault.
Rodney M Bliss is an author, columnist and IT Consultant. His blog updates every weekday. He lives in Pleasant Grove, UT with his lovely wife, thirteen children and grandchildren.
Follow him on
Twitter (@rodneymbliss)
Facebook (www.facebook.com/rbliss)
LinkedIn (www.LinkedIn.com/in/rbliss)
or email him at rbliss at msn dot com(c) 2018 Rodney M Bliss, all rights reserved