Equal To, Not Greater Than

To be equal to, not greater than.

This is an idea contrary to our very nature. A man, when seated next to his dog, is not equal to the dog (although solid arguments can be made as proof of that concept).

Man and dog have different natures; the ‘nature’ of something, that which makes it what it is, is held to account by laws insurmountable by man. Men (and women) and dogs — and cats and trees and birds and flowers and the rocks themselves — have different natures. Place a labrador next to a chihuahua and while the breed is different they share the same nature. Same with male and female.

That having been said, a chihuahua is by far the more comical canine. In that regard it has no equal.

Man, when seated next to his dog is superior to his canine friend. That is part of Nature’s law.

But let’s return to the man and woman.

Why should any man want to be superior to a woman when both share the same nature? Is there not a stronger balance and a more resonant harmony when one is equal to, not greater than, the other?

I’m not stupid enough to think we don’t have differences and disagreements, that we don’t come from widely disparate backgrounds and environments. These things are cause for friction, to be sure, but they are equal to both natures.

Indeed, we have different levels of intelligence and tolerance, different ideas about money and politics, about laughter and passion. Money and politics appeal to our material and corrupt natures. Laughter is a great purger, a perfect means to cleanse the soul of cancerous darkness; passion, in all its exuberant forms, gives our ambitions and higher selves wings and air currents to loft us closer to the touch of God.

I ask again: what elevates one above another?

I make no secret of my disdain for stupid people. Don’t deride me because the fact is I’m right and each of us knows it — stupid people are not figments of our lesser imaginations, they truly exist. A sad misstep in man’s nature to be sure. Perhaps in this regard alone would I consider myself superior to another.

I don’t mean “stupid” because someone doesn’t know what I know. That concept alone can most always make for wholesale improvements on both sides of the fence. We all know the kind of knuckle dragging, mouth breathing brand of idiocy I’m alluding to. [Congress, anyone?]

Notice the important distinction — not empirical but to-the-bone, flat out stupid.

Yeah, I’m better than that person.

I am not, however, perfect. I make no claim to that effect.

I am far more susceptible to the haunts of my demons than to the embrace of my angels. James Madison once wrote that there are no angels among the ranks of men, for if there were we would have no need for government. I petition for the intercession of my angels all the time. Why? Because I am human.

Angels are not to be confused with stupid people (or Congress). Angels are far better equipped to forgive morons. That makes them truly blessed.

I shall never be equal to — nor greater than — angels, certainly not while I still draw breath.

I shall forever be imperfect — for that is my nature.

I shall always seek and hope for the best in my equal. Surely she will be an angel.

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As Luck Would Have It

Last night, my son and I sat on the couch watching a movie. He, as always, sat with phone in hand, its pallid glow lighting his face from below as he texted non-stop.

“Oh yeah,” he suddenly spouts. I look over and give him my “What?” expression.

“I forgot to tell you—”; as you well know. few good things succeed that sentence as it falls from a teenagers lips. A sentence preceded by the dreaded “I forgot to tell you” usually is going to require a trip to the store for something required in class the next day, or there is a horde of teenagers about to show up on your doorstop within the half hour. I waited for the bomb to drop.

“When Tammi’s mom picked her up the other night—” Phew! I was spared this time. “She said “Tammi, there’s something I need to tell you—”

Maybe my elation was a touch too early. He paused and looked at his phone, giving me time to quickly conjure some fairly vile scenarios:

“Your father and I are getting divorced” . . .
“I’m having an affair with your orthodontist—your braces are free as long as I sleep with him” . . .
“Don’t tell your father or brother, but I have to tell somebody — I’m pretty sure I’m a lesbian.”

You see, my son and his girlfried look to be a really good match. She is bright and seems to have solid character . . . plus they look really good together if I do say so. Granted, they’re both incredibly young, but they have been together for almost a full year, something almost unheard of in the pantheon of high school romances. They split up for slightly over 24 hours at one point—his doing, not hers—but he quickly realized he didn’t like how he felt without her in his life, so they were quickly back together. Her presence in his life clearly makes a difference, so having something get in the way would undoubtedly affect him negatively. I’d reallly hate to see that.

Although his demeanor didn’t seem to indicate any trouble my own life experience has taught me to beware of wolves in sheeps clothing. I braced for what was coming.

“Her mom said “Chayce is really handsome. You’re really very lucky.”

My initial reaction was relief, followed by the thought “that smug little bastard!”

Then I felt bad for Tammi. By implication her own mother intimated that her daughter was “lucky” to have a boyfriend like Chayce, as if she wasn’t worthy of it. A knee-jerk reaction; I realized that immediately after the thought entered my head.

I smiled and let the matter dissipate in the air between us. Soon after we were enjoying ice cream with root beer flavored topping. Talk about lucky!

**In case she should ever read this, she should know I am the one who changed her name, if only to protect her innocence. :^)

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On Friends . . .

A blogging friend** of mine posted a piece about friends and posed the question “How long do friendships last?” I read through all the comments and noticed one striking common denominator—they all had someone in their lives they’ve known since childhood. Typically this one person is the one they refer to as their most cherised, inseparable friend.

She also made the excellent point that people use the word “friend” far too loosely. In most cases the people they refer to as “firends” are really only acquaintances. I’d take it one step further and say that many people you work with everyday may not necessarily be your “friends,” rather your colleagues or peers.

I had very close friends in school, and yet even throughout my stay in the education system there were kids who floated in and out of my life. To this day there is not a single friend from school with whom I remain in close contact with. We contact one another at Christmas, and maybe once in a while throughout the year, but that’s about it. I’m not certain if that’s a male trait or if it’s just me. That’s not to say I don’t value their friendship, it just isn’t a deep part of my life. I miss it, yes, but I retain memories of each one. Memories which hopefully will never be lost.

I steadfastly believe that people come in and out of our lives for reasons we don’t understand at the time. I know I’ve learned things from people whom I haven’t had contact with for many, many years . . . and perhaps won’t ever again. But they gave me a gift, and for that I am grateful. I’m sure I’ve done the same for others.

Grief can take care of itself, but to get the full value of a joy you must have somebody to divide it with. ~ Mark Twain

I don’t recall if I’ve used that quote before, but it’s absolutely appropriate. I will become old, and perhaps wise, and with both assuredly will come griefs and joys. I’m a touch too reticent and guarded and as a result I have precious few true friends . . . but they remain precisely that.

**‘acquaintance’ seemed a little too removed in this context.

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