I once read an article written by some guy interviewing a native Alaskan-American-Eskimo (whatever the p.c. term is---sorry, I suck at this). The native guy kept talking about how, when faced with death while in the frozen wilderness, it was unacceptable in his culture to show fear. Fear didn't change the fact that it was 60 below in a blizzard. Bawling, pleading and screaming weren't going to bring you home any more likely than keeping your head and coming to terms that you might die would.
He went on to say he thought it very odd that Americans were always showing fear, although it would be in the shape of anger (temper tantrums) or in the shape of denial (control issues) or in some other mis-shape. I think of this interview sometimes when I encounter an adult who is in the throes of acting like a toyless three-year-old.
Today's example involved a woman having an electronic version of a tamper tantrum. She was unhappy about being charged $2.41 for sales tax on her internet order. While I spent time (once even a few hours) crafting kindly replies, her emails back were very instantaneous and said something like "If you charge me sales tax, cancel my order and I'll never speak to you again" only much more rude and agressive.
It's one thing to be anti-tax and protest in whatever fashion makes you happy, but by law, a busines has got to deal with that stuff. And to drag me into it is bullshit because I'm just the lowly peon messenger! It got to the point where I had two people reading over my answers and one person helping me write because what I wanted to say ("Look, how about you don't be a dumb bitch?") doesn't work too well over e-mail. The last email to her, masterfully crafted by a co-worker with much more backbone than me, ended the debate...for the time being. I wonder how sales-tax-lady would handle being stuck out in a 60 below blizzard far from home? She'd probably angrily text god or something. Bleh.
An Erinku:
new quilt
in bag on floor
new quilt smell
to be savored
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