I don’t care about that
Posted by sam at March 17th, 2005
“Do I look fat?”
The most dreaded of all the dreaded questions to be asked. The problem with this question is that there is no way to answer it and keep the peace. The question might as well be phrased as “hey I want to get into a fight, but you throw the first punch!”
The trap is set.
Although it seems like the correct response, if the questioned ventures a “no,” then he is met with the accusation that he is “just saying that to be nice” and doesn’t really mean it. The more daring who give the “yes” answer are also met with a confrontation for obvious reasons.
If the questioner is not determined, then the only way out is a light hearted anecdote or joke. “Oh you’re phat alright - that’s P - H phat, not the other one! Oh yeah! Hey, let’s make out.” This is your only hope, but since most girls who ask this question are only looking for a fight, they will not let you get away so easily.
I am not married, nor have I lived with someone of the opposite sex (who wasn’t blood related) so I have not been directly asked the question in a situation that was life or death, so to speak. I have had my share of narrow misses, though.
Fortunately for me, I have friends who are willing to help me practice my trap evasion skills by setting traps of their own.
Lance, for example, always asks me to read his papers. This I am perfectly willing to do, or at least I was before I realized the trap. At first I would gingerly read through Lance’s papers with a smile and when finished give him a pat on the back and go on my merry way. But wait, he would stop me, “what did you think,” he would ask me.
This is the part where the mouse is sniffing the cheese in the mouse trap, about to take a bite. I, not making a very good mouse, go ahead and sink my teeth in.
I quickly discovered that Lance is not someone who likes to be told he has made a mistake or is wrong in some way. At least not from me, which probably means he thinks his “status” is threatened by me somehow, and that he needs to feel like he is still in control and on top - but that’s a subject for another day, or, on second thought, a subject for never. I’m no psychologist, so I won’t try to pretend.
My mouse skills have improved. I can spot a trap from a mile away, but when I see it, I am already charging full speed towards it and I’m not quite sure how to change my course.
Now when asked to read a paper I don’t know what to say. I wish I would start going into seizure or a bell would ring, or my mom would call. Tonight I tried “as long as there are no follow up questions, yes,” but it didn’t work so well either.
Part of the problem is mine. I can’t read a paper and seeing glaring errors and inconsistencies without mentioning it or correcting them. Tonight it was an issue of capitalization - but it might as well have been negotiating an armistice.
Herein lies the problem: criticism brings war for those who can’t take criticism, and not giving criticism when asked for makes you look like a jerk. There is always the option of only giving positive criticism (even if it is not warranted), but I think it’s cheap and I hate it when people do it to me. I will always be honest, whether because of a high moral code or just because I like correcting people I don’t know, but I could concede to the latter.
Lance reminds me of a friend I had in high school. They share a lot of the same undesirable personality traits. My high school friend and I eventually lost our friendship because we couldn’t stop disagreeing on every insignificant thing. Every question turned from whatever random thing it was to who is better - who is right - who knows more. We both felt threatened by each other, socially, so we both constantly had our war flags up - looking for every opportunity to strike. I say “TOE-MAY-TOE” and you say “TOE-MAH-TOE” can cause a world war.
I would like to think I have changed a lot since then. It’s entirely possible that I haven’t and I’m just too jaded now to see it.
When I first started my mission for the LDS church out in Virginia, I would argue with everyone about every thing. I think it was because I felt threatened by them. I wanted to be the smartest. My first few companions would fire back. I had the ability to bring out the warrior in people.
Then I had a few companions that completely changed the way I viewed things. Elder Herrud was one of them. I would lob my attack missiles at him, as I had done with my previous companions and friends. But I found he was a difficult opponent. He would calmly step aside from each missile I threw at him. I would become frustrated and attack him more.
I don’t remember exactly what it is he said to me, but one day I asked him why he had such an attitude. He simply said he didn’t care. “I don’t care about that” became almost a magical mantra. Every time I would throw a missile, he would say “I don’t care about that” and go about his work. I began to adopt the phrase, and when others shot verbal missiles at me, I would step aside. “I don’t care about that.”
It’s not always easy. When you are repeatedly attacked it’s hard not to strike back. Especially when such attack are made in a social setting, where backing down becomes the same as conceding defeat, and everyone sees it. It makes you France, it makes you suck. This is Lance’s secret weapon.
I simply try to remember that I am not at war. I have declared peace, I have adopted the motto “I don’t care about that.” I cannot concede defeat because I am not in any sort of competition. Social standing? The respect of others lost over a matter of trivial importance? I don’t care about that.
I have a long way to go, but I have learned so much from the good examples I was surrounded by on my mission and elsewhere. “I don’t care about that” also happens to work well for me because I am lazy. Saving myself from the exertion of debate leaves me more energy for other things, like writing inconceivably long LJ entries.
The other phrase I am trying to adopt is “I don’t know.” It burns to say it when in fact, I do know. I love to be right, I love to have knowledge that someone else doesn’t. But “I don’t know” can save you so much time and effort. This is an arrow that should be in any lazy man’s quiver.
“My computer is shooting flames out the back, what’s wrong?”
“I don’t know” saves you from the obligation to fix it now and int he future. “I don’t know” let’s you spend your day doing whatever you please. “I don’t know” is awesome. It is awesome because when you say you DO know, people will put all responsibility of that knowledge on your shoulders. “Hey, you said the capital of Italy was Hong Kong, and now I got an F on my paper!” These things can never happen. You can live a life free from the responsibility of an encyclopedia.
This is VERY important at work. I do tech support for an ISP. People call up and want help with reinstalling windows, baking a turkey, or changing their oil. I DO know how to do these things, but saying so obligates me to tell them, and if I don’t then I am a jerk and it reflects badly on my company. So when someone asks me how to wipe their ass I just say “I don’t know.”
I am an encyclopedia. But I am not a free encyclopedia. From now on everyone that asks me a question must give me a dollar and sign a waiver that says they understand that the information I give them may or may not be correct, and that they might not even understand it to begin with.
So remember kids: Every time an argument over something insignificant happens, repeat the phrase “I don’t care about that” in a calm tone and go about your day. Consider the energy you will waste defending you position on which cheese is better, or how many stars there are in the sky. Every time someone asks you about something, consider the time and effort that saying “I don’t know” will save you, even if you do know.
Notice the white headphones!
