What did you mean by that?

Last night in class I was talking to my students about making inferences. I am a teacher in case I failed to mention that and you needn't be afraid, I no longer teach high school or middle school so your children are safe from my infected thoughts. They'll come to me when they're 18 and maybe by then you'll have had time to prepare them for offensive juggernauts like myself who can't seem to talk about much except what frustrates them and, sometimes, that which makes them laugh so hard that liquid comes through their nose. That's very painful by the way in case it's never happened to you. So, ANYWAY, my students are practicing with inferences in reading; an author implies, they infer. This is difficult to do in real life with a person sitting across from you and when you have the benefit of intonation and gestures and body language, but it's extraordinarily difficult to do in reading when one does not have the opportunity to "see" or "hear" the implication. The best way to understand this notion is to imagine that while you read what is there, to draw a conclusion, you must also consider what is not there and sometimes, what is not there is the entire point. The entire point.

"What do you mean by that?" "What do you mean by that?" How often have we heard that question and how often have we asked that question? More importantly, why do we ask that question? Is it an inherent need to really want to know what they meant by that or, more significantly, is it that we're just too insensitive and insecure and stupid even to be able to figure it out on our own? And, if we do figure it out, what do we do with it then because maybe it was nothing more than, I meant exactly what I said. I wonder if the world would be a better more productive place if we all just said what we thought. Then again, I've seen The Invention of Lying and I may have to rethink my position on that one.

Since the kids were off from school today, I took two of them to do some fun "kid" stuff; bowling, movies, arcade, lunch. It was a great day, easy, no real problems, that is until we went to the movies. Everything was fine until three teenagers decided to sit in the row behind me. The boys had moved away and were already sitting somewhere else as they cannot be seen with me in public, well sometimes, but not so much today. And, I kid you not, these three indolent, ridiculous kids would not stop talking. Every scene, every line in the movie, a comment or a scream or fake laughter or playing on their phones. I let it go on for about ten minutes before I turned to them and said, "Shut Up!" Now, I realize that I could have asked them to be quiet, even toned down my hostility, but I didn't want to leave any room for, "And what did you mean by that?" But, stupid as they were, one turned to me and asked, "What?" I said, louder, "Shut Up, you're making too much noise." Clarification, now even the most idiotic of the three could understand that, right? "Hey Bitch, fuck off" Really I thought to myself, want to go that route? Don't wince yet, it's not that bad. "Hey badass, either shut it or I'm going to get the manager" "Oooh, okay" another ridiculous voice. I smiled, grabbed my purse and went straight out, got the manager and walked back in. Strangely, they were nowhere to be found; not at all strange of course. Challenge a moron and most often, he'll back down; challenge a teenage moron and well, most are just too stupid to know how to do anything but run or maybe set something on fire, but that is limited in its retaliatory effect. So the rest of the movie was uneventful, just a stupid movie and we proceeded to make our way home after a relatively peaceful afternoon of quality time...

"What did you mean by that?" If you ever ask me this, I won't really have anything to say because I will have told you exactly what I thought; maybe even to the point where you wish I hadn't. Some people, friends mostly, say, well, you're just an honest person; you don't lie and you just tell it like it is. I guess, but that could also be yet another reason or more that people shy away from me; they don't want that honesty or they don't know what to do with it when they get it. I mean, I don't go around calling people names or belittling them. I just try to say what I think and I try to do so in a manner that is appropriate and contextually correct. I don't have Tourette's if you're picturing me just spouting off at random people; no offense to those with the syndrome, but I kind of get the impression that maybe some of you think that's me, sitting out in front of some store, verbally assaulting people as they walk by. Maybe in a few years when I don't have anything else to do; look for me then.

I was swimming at the gym the other day and the older ladies were doing water aerobics and when I stopped in the deep end to catch my breath, I noticed that one of them, a darling woman who looked at least 80 was wearing this adorable beige brimmed hat. Now, I will digress for a moment here and this might be something that you didn't know about me but now you do, I LOVE hats, all kinds of hats, even ones that don't look good on me. I'll buy them anyway and sometimes I'll don one and Tim will give me a weird look, but I don't care. Some women love shoes, I am crazy for the head coverings. So, I look at her hat with the brim and the white flowers and I smile and say hi and I tell her, "I love that hat, it's adorable and it looks great on you!" and the smile that she gave me. I mean, it made my whole day and THEN she said to ME, "I was going to tell you when you stopped, I've been watching you swim and I love to watch your stroke, it's so even and smooth." Now, I've always thought of myself as a hack in the water and maybe she was just being nice; she didn't really have to say anything except thanks and even then I wouldn't have expected that; a smile was enough. But the fact that she said that out loud made me smile and it made me glad that I had said something in the first place. And, that's all it took. What did I mean by that? I meant that I loved her hat and she meant that she loved my swimming stroke and we made each other's days by voicing our mutual compliments. What a lovely thought, that one does not have to mean anything more than what one means.

It's like with toddlers; give them broccoli or turnips or whatever they don't like to eat and they'll tell you, "I don't like that, yuck!" They'll grab your cheeks and pinch them and say, "I love you" and you know they mean it. They'll tell you "Go way now, I don't like you" and well, cest la vie. Maybe we learn to tell less truths as we get older, maybe we learn to lie more effectively or maybe we just don't want to hear what other people Really think, we want to hear the G rated version because it makes us feel better about ourselves, even when we don't deserve it. Whatever it is, I'll take the truth and save the politically correct behavior for those who give a shit. If I'm being a bitch then tell me, but depending on the day, you might want to stand out of reach of my fist.

With age comes wisdom or so "they" say. I don't know that I believe that because I know many young people who are much smarter, more effective people than some of the people I know who are my age or older. Maybe with age comes the ability to shake things off more easily and to say to yourself, you know what? Life's too short and too full to give a flying fuck what anyone else thinks and if they "meant" that, well then, I'll just have to live with that. Just please, don't ask me what I meant because, I will tell you...