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Some People Throw Farts In Your Head

April 23, 2013

In World War II movies there was usually a screen involving American GIs taking out a German tank. The thank would come down the road, and an American soldier would jump on the turret, open the top hatch, toss in a grenade, close the hatch as the Germans inside suddenly made an alarmed chatter, then BOOM! Never mind that for some reason, a top-o-f the line Panther tank didn’t have a hatch with a bolt or chain lock, which now that I further think about it, how come Dracula never had a chain or bolt lock on his coffin? Von Helsing would be there with a stake, signal his assistant to open the coffin, them he’d attempt to pull open the lid only to have the chain lock preventing them, and alerting the count that it was time to get in a defensive position from his dawn-to-dusk power nap.

So know what does this have to do with people who drop farts in your head? Now, forget about the Dracula points, that’s part of the cost of dealing with me, and I’ll make my point. Just as the soldier threw the grenade into the turret’s compartment, people will toss thoughts into your head, which have no constructive value and will only upset you.

For example, after you’ve broken up or divorced someone, an alleged friend saying, “I saw you Ex out on a date, with someone, they were getting along pretty well.” Or after you’ve been laid off or fired, “Did you hear who got your position and how the person in your department got promoted…”

That’s the fart in your head. After all, that’s only going to upset you.

We are all capable of these acts when we’re young. After all, the last lines in Peter Pan are, “as long as children are gay, innocent and heartless.” I remember when I was 10 a friend’s Dad died, and I really wanted to be his best friend, and I wanted to put down another guy to prove it, and I told him, “Joey said now you won’t be able to brag about your Dad anymore.” It was true, but I still remember how my friend clenches his eyes and cried when I told him. And I knew I did something horribly wrong, and I never did anything like that again. And obviously, this event stuck with me. But it’s better to own up to it. And that’s adolescence, and I’d never do anything like that as an adult. And I carried that shameful memory, and use it to cut slack to youths. Maybe some are indifferently about the hurts they cause, but I carried them to counter any development about a higher opinion of myself, so I don’t judge people. But I still see what they do, and when I’m the victim of those lines, I’m worldy amused, seeing where the source is coming from and not becoming the victim of its outcome. And when I was wrong, I never settled for saying I’m sorry, I knew I had to make it right. Granted, sometimes it to longer than I’d like, because when we’re “growing as people” we resent when we have to admit to ourselves we’re reaching for the darkness and calling it light, but if we don’t parts of use won’t grow.

Once I was sitting at a locker in a Connecticut country club where I was a guest playing in  a tournament, and I saw a white guy in his sixties speak in a condescending way to the black attendant, who was in his forties, and I knew was a college educated man from Haiti, who studied archeology. The white guy was a guest of a member, holding up his shoes and said, “I want these buffed. You know how to do that don’t you. You just take a cloth and use shoe polish and go across them like this.” He smiled to the other guys around him like he was making a joke, then handed the shoes and a dollar tip to the attendant. I followed the attendant and said, “Do you want me to make a complain about how that man treated you? He had no right to talk to you like that? He pressed his lips together and said, “No, I don’t care. What he said, said more about who he was than me.” I still complained to the club about the way the guy treated him anyway, and never saw the guy at the club again.

Now why do people drop farts in your head? Because they were jealous of whatever you had, and by throwing a fart in your head, it’s their way of denying whatever you had was a good experience denied to them. What they miss? Just because the experience ended badly, doesn’t mean the beginning of the experience before it went sour wasn’t enjoyable and satisfying. And they did miss out.

So what’s your chain-lock to prevent the fart grande from being tossed into your skull compartment? The realization that you would never say these things to another person, and you see the alleged friend for what they really are. They have to carry that, not you. And if they don’t they spend an enormous amount of time time denying ownership.

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