You Know What They Say...

                                             You told me something wrong.

                                             I know I listen too long,

                                             But then one thing leads to another.
                                             One thing leads to another.

                                                                       --The Fixx, from Reach the Beach, 1983

They say that with age comes wisdom, but in my case age mostly comes with a grumpy old guy who thinks he knows stuff. After further consideration I have reduced the stuff I do know to six things. (Almost everything else belongs on a list titled Stuff I’m Pretty Sure About and the rest is on Stuff I’m Still Working On.)

• There is no “they”
• We all have the same amount of time
• People see what they’re looking for
• Thoughts fly
• Everything is connected
• You reap what you sow

You know what they say… The next time these words leave your brain and approach your mouth try to remember that there is no they. Maybe you heard something or read something or believe something, but whichever it is, they didn’t say it. I have come to believe that saying that they say something is a veiled attempt to give credibility to the next thing you are about to say. Either you know the source or you don’t; hell, maybe you just think it, but in any case leave they out of it.

The next time someone says “I didn’t have time” (as in I didn’t have time to do my homework or I didn’t have time to eat…) do what I do. Remind them that we all have the same amount of time. Exactly the same amount. Like me, ask them if they have more or less than 24 hours every day. Here’s the point: saying “I don’t have time” is code for “I don’t have priorities.” Things pile up. I get that. Some things are left undone. I get that, too--hey, if you did one thing, you didn’t do everything else--but don’t blame time.

People see what they are looking for (and they generally ignore the rest). I had a dog years ago that eventually bit everyone except me. She was the sweetest animal that ever lived. Conversely, the next time that you convince yourself you can’t find something, you’ll make sure you’re right. Next Christmas when you can’t find the scotch tape, the same scotch tape you will have used for the last hour, only to discover it right in front of you, you’ll know I'm right. But don’t feel bad. You’re not alone. Millions of people see Hillary Clinton as an honest, law-abiding person, highly qualified to be President of the United States.

Thoughts fly, and don’t try to tell me they don’t. You have even said it from time-to-time. “Holy Cow! Hello! I was just thinking about you.” Or maybe, “I’m glad you called me because I was going to call you later.” Perhaps, like me, you’ve reached for the telephone before it rang. Or perhaps you’ve dialed a number only to be met with inexplicable silence until the person on the other end who is just as confused says, “Wait, what? I was trying to call you!” That’s because thoughts fly. I’m guessing that established patterns of thinking and behavior have more to do with this phenomenon that the physics of radio-kinetic brain waves travelling through time and space, but I just say “thoughts fly.”

I am on record regarding the connectivity of life. (By now you realize that even if no connection exists, I’d invent one…) Speaking of connections, by now, if they are still reading, my friends and ex-colleagues have waited long enough to wonder why my all-time, unquestionably preeminent co-rules in life have not made the list. I used to say there are only two rules in life: “Be where you’re supposed to be, and do what you’re supposed to do.” I have said these words more often and to more people (mostly ones carrying school books) than any other single Thannerism--by far. You might even have believed that if I were to claim to know one thing for sure, this is it. Well, I have breaking news…

I am no longer convinced. Nowadays I am convinced that these are not the only two rules. Oh hold on, I still believe them, but even though it seems like there are more than two rules, or should be more than two, or could be more, I now realize, there is actually only one rule: There are no rules. 

Everyone is free to operate as they darn well choose. Same sex marriage. Cursing in public. Ending sentences with prepositions...doesn’t matter. You love your partner; right? Get married. Heck, you might as well make out in public just to prove things. If you live in the USA, go ahead and curse at police. No rules against that, Ole Hoss. You know all them good swear words, so by all means, use them.  You might even get to file a lawsuit when one of them finally loses composure and cracks your head open. No rules, not even those pertaining to civility. To decency. To common courtesy. And best of all you can end your sentences with any words you think of.

Earlier this month when Debbie realized the date was my college roommate’s birthday, I sent a message via his wife, whom I found on FaceBook. After I asked her to pass along a birthday wish to my old friend, I watched a few videos she had posted. Apparently she is a proud member of her church's congregation, and her videos are joyous expressions of (as she calls them) “unashamed” Christian faith. Although I do not share her enthusiasm or conviction I do try to understand the mentality that encourages, allows and even demands such commitment.

Just one day prior to that, I struggled while trying to understand the religious conviction that encourages, allows, and even demands the murder of commuters (or tourists or diners or theater goers or market shoppers or innocents of every sort). I sometimes think that I want to understand, but I know I can’t. I realize that I will never understand and to be candid, I really don’t want to understand because I don’t want to come anywhere near the inclination to justify the mutilation of people who were where they were supposed to be, doing what they were supposed to be doing, and who never even knew they were in danger.

A few days before that Salah Abdeslam, one of the religious zealots who massacred people in Paris weeks ago, was captured in Brussels. Before authorities had time to stop the retaliation of three of his henchmen, bombs were detonated in two locations killing 30 people and injuring 200. Either the police didn’t have enough time, or like so many apologists world-wide, they were unwilling to accuse for fear of offending a religious community; I think in large part, because despite the evidence, we want to see Islam as the antithesis of the violent image conveyed by murderers who are Muslim. Today, I wonder if the families of the slain feel that way. Wait...no I don’t.

This leads me directly to the last thing I know from my list: You reap what you sow. I didn’t have to invent this one. It was expressed to me many, many times in a variety of forms during the 45 years I knew my mother.  I was reminded countless times that “what goes around comes around”. She’d also say, “You just wait, Mister. You’ll get yours!” or things like “It’ll come back to you in spades.” Maybe the best one of all was “There’ll be hell to pay, or at least there should be.”

In this case, I hope so. They say that one thing leads to another. I also hope that’s true.

By mid-afternoon that day the first email from home was asking about our welfare, but not from our family. They didn’t have to, and I mean that sincerely. They knew we don’t live in Brussels, and they didn’t have to ask how their mother was because they knew I would have already told them if there was anything to tell. Apart from that, they knew exactly how I am--incensed.  They know not because thoughts fly but because they know me. They know I am not afraid, at least not for our safety. They know what I really fear is that it won’t stop. It might never stop.

They also know that what I really want is the Hell part of “Hell to pay.”