I’ve Decided To Not Think
“What do you think about the election?”
“What do you think about the Baseball Playoffs?”
“What do you think of this, that, and the other thing?”
I don’t answer those questions directly. I have become very adept at giving non-answer answers.
When someone asks me about a political race or issue I often respond with, “Tell me how much money you make.” That usually gets a response of, “Why, that’s none of your business.”
Sometimes they get it. Most times they don’t and walk away confused and thick as a brick.
What with all of the “debates” on TV (Which are no more like real debates than Parkay Margarine is real butter.) I just don’t feel like discussing it at all.
Even while I am just minding my own beeswax sipping my coffee or writing, there will be some yutz who will ask me, “What did you think of the debate on TV last night?” If I can’t get by with just a simple shrug and, “I no speak English,” I will say to them, “Debate? I’m sorry, but I only watch the Spelunking Channel.”
It’s not that I don’t have opinions on issues and candidates, but the people who are asking me about them really don’t care. They don’t want to discuss anything – they want to argue. Oh, well, some people collect stamps – these people argue as a hobby.
To them it doesn’t matter what I would say – they would want to argue about it, even if we agreed.
I don’t care to play with them.
Depending on my mood, how my feet feel, or the price of gasoline, I can be quite polite with people, or I can verbally remove their spleen in public.
If I am feeling magnanimous I will tell the questioning man or woman that, “I’m sure that we agree on many things and disagree on many others. However, I don’t want to argue with you because, by the time we are through, you would be angry, feel stupid, and I am not the slightest bit interested in being your teacher. OK?”
If I am not in a good mood (The Giants have lost, my feet hurt, or the price of gas just went up twenty cents a gallon) I am likely to answer their question with a simple, “Bite me.” But I smile as I say it. I don’t want to upset them or encourage them to launch into an angry soliloquy.
I may be terse with them, but I’m not too brutal.
Part of why I don’t like to deal with strangers who ask me questions, even those who have clipboards and are working for a candidate, is that I don’t trust their results. They will tell, whoever hired them, exactly what they want to hear. People don’t like to hear bad news. Pollsters can massage any question to produce an answer that will make the customer happy.
I’m sure that I could engineer a poll to prove anything I would want it to prove. Want Mickey Mouse elected to office? I can prove that he would win in a cakewalk. All I need to do is only ask other mice for an opinion.
I will be glad when this election season is over and the intrusions into my rather peaceful world diminish. After Election Day I’ll only have to deal with the Clinically Annoying as the Professionally Annoying will go back into their underground burrows until next year.
Then I will do my Happy Dance.