Culture clashes are weird, and they can even happen between
us Midwesterners and people from other parts of this country. For example, I
come from a straightforward cultural milieu where I might say, “I really like
your hat!” and the other person takes that the way it was meant, as a
compliment, and says, “Thanks!” If they say anything else, like offering me the
hat, they actually mean it. But apparently there are other places where people
play some sort of game in which they offer you the hat you like, but they don’t
mean it, and you are supposed to play along and demur, then they offer it
again, and you go through this process several times, always demurring the
offer of the hat you love. The problem is that I think they mean it and take
them up on the offer the first or second time, and then they are grumpy and
resentful. Not that you can say one culture is better than another, but I say this
is hella whack – what kind of sadistic culture plays a game like, “You like
this? You want it? I’ll keep offering it to you, but you CAN’T HAVE IT!!!” F
that! Either just take the compliment that was originally all that was
intended, or mean it when you offer someone the damn hat. Can we get these
other cultures to just stop?
Maybe the craziest headline lately has been the one about
the two guys in London who stopped a terrorist attack with a fire extinguisher
and a narwhal horn. If you, like me, wondered, “Who has a narwhal horn on their
person?” then you will be delighted to learn that this person was working in a
restaurant with a narwhal horn on the wall, and he grabbed it and charged at
the terrorist, and now he is getting a medal from the Polish government. He is
a Polish national, and all I had heard about him is that his first name is the
same as a faculty member in our department, so this faculty member says he is
going to post the story on his office door after I told him about it. If you
are wondering what a narwhal is, then we can’t be friends. Just kidding, read
this.
Tuesday I took a long lunch because a fellow choir member’s
mother had died, and the choir sang at her interment ceremony. I thought this
would be outside so I wore boots, but it was in the mausoleum. Kathbert joined
us and sang alto, so I sang soprano along with the daughter of the deceased,
and we actually sounded really good a capella. Afterwards it was a gorgeous
day, and I bemoaned missing my usual lunchtime walk, so Rich and Kathbert
suggested we visit another choir member who died in 2005 and Mr. Why, whom I
have mentioned many times on this blog. This was one of the few times we could
easily find his grave marker, because all the snow has melted. Usually we are
visiting him on the anniversary of his death on the First of March, and there
is always a ton of snow in the cemetery. Hard to believe it’s been over a
decade since he left us. He never met Travalon or knew Trump would be
president. We miss you, Mr. Why!
Famous Hat
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