A Mild Oppression

"Go to the beating area - now!", his mother commanded. Shit. Fuck. Damn, he thought. He did it again. He hated the beating area, a small, semi-soundproof room between the garage and the kitchen. Most kids knew this as a breezeway or a mud room. Not him. In a good week, he could merely pass through the beating area as if it were either of the things other kids knew it to be, not once having been ordered to go and wait for his father, or his mother and give thought to what he did wrong.

How was he supposed to think about what he did wrong when he could hear an angry parent stomping around looking for some household item that would serve as an instrument of discipline and justice, muttering phrases like, "you're in trouble now mister - just you wait until I get in there."

Jeezus. He was waiting, and at 11 years of age, being addressed as mister was more than he could handle. Mister was never a favorable title it seemed. What could there possibly be to look forward to adulthood for if every time someone referred to him as mister, it meant that he'd done something wrong? Sometimes whatever it was he did wrong was intentional and he was merely rolling the dice figuring that the risk of being caught was minimal - or even worth it. Sometimes those gambles paid off, other times he paid the price. He wasn't old enough to fully understand the whole no risk, no reward concept. He merely knew that he didn't always get caught for these childhood offenses.

Did he want to get caught? Nope. So there he was, waiting in the beating area, having had the misfortune to grow up in a time when parents were allowed to whoop a kid's ass if they deserved it. In his mind, he did not deserve it this time. He was playing baseball on the street with other kids in the neighborhood. It's not like he thought he could actually hit the ball far enough that it would go straight through the middle of the picture window of the one man on the street who didn't like kids at all. All of the players agreed that a ball hit even as far as the kid hater's front yard would be a home run - but this, this was a home run with authority.

He was halfway to second base when he heard the crash of the ball going through the window. He'd ignored the yells of the other kids in his unbridled enthusiasm for a ball hit well. Now instead of running leisurely around the bases to home, he wanted to run anywhere but home...say to the next state over, maybe China. At the very least, it'd be nice to make it to his grandparent's house and get the chance to explain that he hadn't broken the neighbor's window intentionally. No. Such. Luck.

As much as he hated the beating area, which was so named by his older sister, he also hated the ridiculous questions that often came with discipline and punishment for his wrong doings. He always thought of the teacher who once said that there were no stupid questions - because the moment she said that, he knew better. There were stupid questions, and they were often asked by either of his parents when he was in some kind of trouble:

Mother: What the hell were you thinking hitting a ball like that, straight at the neighbor's window? What are you going to tell your father when he gets home??

Father: Do you want a beating?

Why on earth did his mother ask him questions that he couldn't answer honestly, and without appearing like he was every bit the smart ass that he wasn't allowed to be around adults?

Him, to his mother: What was I thinking? Well Mom, I sure as hell didn't think I'd hit the ball that far - or at all. It was a pick up game - so stats are kept loosely at best, if at all...but I was chosen for my team last, if that says anything at all about my batting average. I mean, I fouled out in all my previous at bats, and everyone thought I was going to do the same this time - and they said as much. When dad gets home, I expect to be up to my ears in homework - which is what he told me I'd better be doing when he got home and he didn't want any back talk about it...so I was thinking I could bypass the whole talk-to-dad thing...

Him, to his father (as IF): Actually dad, what with all the chores I have to do for my allowance, and the homework I'm a bit behind on - a beating, tempting as that is, is gonna put me behind on things - can we do it next week?

Parents aren't looking for honesty when they ask such questions, even if they say they are. Why then, did they ask such questions? Why wasn't it enough to be told that it was an accident? That you didn't know? That you were sorry? Why did it seem like honesty wasn't rewarded when it was insisted upon?

This was the early 70's - anti-spanking laws had yet to be written and voted into a way of life. Kids couldn't call some child abuse hotline and get something done about what they had coming back then. They could only dream of a day when a belt, maybe a hairbrush or a piece of Hot Wheel track would all be illegal to use upon any child, regardless of age, race, the neighborhood they lived in and the kids they hung around with. Nor could they be used with phrases like, "You're lucky I'm not really mad this time..."

Fodder. Really.

The other night at work I was asked a question that I evidently had an unacceptable answer for. It's a question that I've been asked several times, by men and women. Doesn't matter who asks, my answer is exactly the same. Here's the question - you can figure out the gender flop on your own:

Q: What nights are the best nights to come here and meet eligible men?

Really? Yes. Really. I thought that I was answering this question honestly and politely. Really? Yes. Really. Here's my answer - you can figure out the gender flop on your own:

A: Actually we get a nice range of people/ages pretty much all the time here - there isn't really one night that's heavier on gender than any other night...

I said that because I find it to be true. The person asking the question seemed to take offense to my answer and remarked to the effect of, if I was answering as non-specifically as that, they weren't likely to return. As if I were working in some privately stocked pond and knew what the fish were biting on any given day, when in fact...I don't and I don't.

There might be such a pond, with an employee who knows exactly what the fish are biting on at any given moment. I mean, there has to be right? Shouldn't someone take the mystery out of it in the new millennium? I dunno - I mean, what's in your tackle box? If you're coming to fish, I'd think you'd want to be prepared for all kinds of things. If the guy working the counter at the bait shop says the fish are hitting night crawlers, then by all means - get you some night crawlers. The fellas are hittin' the low cut tops tonight ma'am, which is kinda odd since short skirts and slurred speech was working really well earlier in the week. Tonight the ladies seem to be taking chivalry and good listening skills, yesterday it was all brawn and gold chains...excessive cologne? Nope, they're not hitting that today.

I didn't think my answer was anything but honest - and it just so happens that I like the nice mix of people who come into where I work. I'm not really offering advice, but if I were, I'd say come for the food, the drink, the atmosphere we have - let the rest take care of itself. I can tell you what nights of the week we have great deals on things like pizza, beer and wine - and I can be very specific.

The notion of coming into any place for something other than what the place does with food, drink and atmosphere is a bit foreign to me. To me, my outlook is that if I go in looking to try the food and drink, who knows...I could meet a nice lady...or I could be with a friend or two and leave with all of us having had a pleasant experience.

The person who asked this question told me I was assuming they were there to pick up someone. Not at all. I thought I was doing my best to answer honestly - and I would hope that my honest answer wouldn't be a disappointment to anyone. We're just not a place where one night favors eligible ladies or men. Nor do we have kids eat free night. "I'm ten and this here's my sister - she's 16 and she just got her driver's license. We'd like a table for two please...what's that you say? Kids eat for FREE tonight? That's awesome, because neither one of us has any money on us!"

 In my job, I play a part in what I hope is a very favorable dining experience. That's what I hope people return for, tell their friends about and leave feeling good about. Was I supposed to answer a question like that in the following manner:

A: Well if you'll just take a minute to fill out this questionnaire that we've compiled, I'll tell you the exact night you need to come here - with or without your appetite and/or friends, and I can seat you by those who would be a compatible match for you...

You want I should post Twitter alerts when we're filled up with single ladies or dudes? It's not really that kind of party. Don't get me wrong, on any given night the ratio could be swayed heavily in either direction, sometimes even both. It's not like I look at those nights when they end thinking, "well, whaddya know, everyone left happy tonight, paired off just like they're supposed to." What we do is our best to make sure that everyone leaving is leaving with the best possible experience we could give them by way of these kinds of things: Drink, food, hospitality and service. We strive to do that regardless of what the ratio is.

If I had an answer that specifically addressed the question of eligible men or women, I'd certainly give it up. I don't have an answer to that question. It could've been last night...or the night before. Then again, it could be tomorrow night...or the night after. In my line of work people often say that you can't make everyone happy. While that's true, it's also true that in my business we give everyone the same chance to be happy. I shared this experience with my superiors that night, because I was genuinely shocked that an answer as honest and polite - and the only answer I have any time I'm asked this kind of question, would be taken with the offense that it seemed to be taken. I like what I do when I'm at work. I like the very notion of giving everyone the chance to be happy. Cheers.

Surrender to the unfamiliar

Note: the following post is in response to a question I have been asked numerous times regarding how I came to appreciate music by numerous different artists that a lot of people seem to know little or nothing about. It's also a stab at writing that will be submitted to an online publication in the hopes of my joining their staff of online writers. Here goes nothin'...

You need something different in your playlists, let's face it - they need updated. The solution would seem obvious. Seek new music. Seek different music. The worst thing is often sticking a label on it - unless that label is simply music. Don't be bashful about stepping outside your notions of musical genre, not if you want to broaden your horizons for musical enjoyment. All that matters is whether or not you like it. It doesn't matter if anyone else does. In the event that anyone in your life doesn't like the music you listen to, well we certainly live in a time that allows us to keep our music to ourselves. Don't let anyone stop you from finding more music, different music to appreciate - if that's what you're out to do!

In seeking different music, one often needs to allow something new to grow on them. This can take time, or it can happen fast. Does something really have to grab you instantly? You have to be willing, you have to be open. Consider the music that's new to you to be like a new neighbor. It's entirely possible that you'll want nothing to do with him...or her, but then again, you may end up being great friends. Keep yourself open to possibility.

Songs can be like the air that surrounds you. There are times when a cool breeze is welcome relief on a hot Summer day, and there are times when the heat from the sun is completely soothing. There are times on a cold Winter day, when taking in a deep breath makes you feel like the air is never more clean and refreshing than on a day like that. It's feelings like these that can make songs equally soothing in the right moments, and they'll have their moments of you not wanting them around. Allow them this luxury and think of a particular piece of music in the same way you think of a particular type of food. You don't have to want to eat it every day. Maybe it's something you eat once every few weeks, and when you do, it's wonderful. In that very moment, it's exactly what you want. You can do this with food...or music, because both are objects that don't possess feelings that can be hurt. Either can be ignored for periods of time and when you come back to them, they're just as good as the last time.

If you allow yourself to be in the moment, you stand a very good chance of expanding your musical horizons and getting much more enjoyment out of your music listening experience. The music you listen to becomes the soundtrack of your life, and that is a marvelous feeling to have. You've got to be willing to go down a side road or two. Keep going, and don't worry so much about there not being signs or familiar landmarks. Be open to finding something new - even if it's something you once had preconceived notions about not liking. Never mind that your spouse, friends or family won't like it. For the time being, it's all about you. It's your ears that are doing the seeking. Let 'em go.

Fortunately there are some avenues in this day and age that make finding new music easy. Things like Pandora and Spotify are great for finding new music. Finding. They're not so great for the artists though, because they don't put much money in their pockets, therefore it's hard to advocate either for anything other than resourcing what you might want to add to your collection. How big or how small your music collection is, is up to you - but art that means enough to someone that they will pay for it is a wonderful thing. Ask any artist.

One thing is certain: There is a lot of good music out there. Pick any genre if you really feel like you have to, but there are loads of artists out there who craft enjoyable music that you just might like as well as the music that you're familiar with. But you have to allow yourself the possibility. To close off your mind and ears to possibility, is to stay right where you are with the same old playlist - aka the mix tape of the new millennium. If you want to expand, you've got to be open to possibilities and think beyond your current status. Sign up for Pandora, create a station named after an artist you like to listen to, and then listen to the other artists that will pop up on your station. Don't worry about who they are immediately - unless of course you like what you're hearing enough to actually want to buy the music. If you're not sure if you like it, maybe you're just on the way to liking it. It would be nice if people would like something enough to want to pay for it - because while services like Pandora and Spotify are great for finding different music and building awareness, they're making it tough on the artists who produce this kind of art.

So venture off on a side road, bask in the feeling of not having to be anywhere but where you decide you want to go. If you get lost, consider the fact that maybe that's okay, because unlike any other time you've been lost, this time, maybe you'll find a place that is exactly the right place for you to be in that moment, and in that moment maybe you've found exactly what you've been looking for. Ready, set....go. Surrender yourself, your ears, to the unfamiliar - and you just might find that it's all good.