Marty's Bon Mots (Selections found in: Glad You Asked)

The Nature of Insensitivity

I find myself confused where it concerns the nature of an individual’s thoughts relative to his or her place within the context of the whole.

Yes, there were specific incidents underlying the provocation of these questions. On my back from having dinner with the guys (the wives’ book club night always has the book club widowers congregating at a restaurant serving dishes the wives would ill approve) I received a text message from the mother of one of my guitar students. You see her family and my next door neighbors are members of the same church and my name has been floated about within their community as the go-to guitar teacher type guy. The above referenced text message cheerfully invited me and my wife to attend a social gathering taking place at my neighbors’ house. The majority of folk in attendance would be members of their church group.

Innocently enough, my thought processes triggered along the following lines: “… nice people. Susan’s out. A little bit of light harmless socializing. Why not?” And so, around 7:30 or so, I sashayed across two suburban lawns to knock-knock.
And so, and as expected, there was a group of nice people at an informal pot luck gathering. The prospect of a second dining experience held no allure for me whatever as I had only just ingloriously stuffed my face with the offerings of a newly found Mexican joint with three of my buddies. No, I was looking forward to smiles and small talk. And for the next few moments, my expectations did not disappoint.

What took place, took me by surprise. It seems that one of the merry makers was the group’s pastor. I realized, that while I was otherwise engaged, a circle of chairs was formed and I was unceremoniously handed a single page copied from the New Testament. This particular quotation, involved the nature of good acts committed either with or without a personal relationship with Jesus. Specifically, the question of the day, evening actually, revolved around the ultimate objective of entering the hallowed holy grounds after having performed a life’s worth of good acts. Do you gain access regardless of having a relationship with a specific deity?

Never mind the fact that the answer to the question is obvious. Never mind the fact, that the obvious answer was a warm fuzzy blanket intended to assure the attendees that theirs was the exclusive path of the righteous and they represented the elite and that only they held the key. Never mind all that.

There I sat holding this sheet of paper upon which were words of scripture. My curiosity had bested me many times, and I have read, and to a lesser extent studied, said lines of New Testament. So no stranger was I to the words and their respective interpretations. Regardless of this, there I sat wanting all the world to rise, potentially embarrassing my neighbors, and announcing that this particular setting was not my scene and later to you all. No. I remained steadfast. Was it cowardly, or worse, dishonest, on my part to so remain? After mulling it over several times since, I have resolved that no, it was merely an act of politeness and civility.

The larger question of the day remains. What was the underlying rationale behind our having been invited to this soiree? Was this an act of wholesale recruitment where the intent was to unashamedly inculcate me into their midst? I sincerely doubt it. Was this a friendly gesture where nice people invited other nice people to join them and participate in an activity they collectively enjoyed? I suspect the latter. However, in so inviting anyone outside their clique and failing to advise that there was going to be a come-home-to-Jesus discussion, the act of having so invited anyone in such a manner, it seems to me that this was a rather thoughtless gesture. No. Not merely thoughtless. Insensitive. Borderline selfish.

Self-indulgent in the sense that one projects one’s own pleasure centers in a full expectation that others have identical propensities. It obviously never entered anyone’s minds that this guy, this neighbor, is Jewish. He might be uncomfortable in being dropped in the middle of discussion where it was understood that not only did some guy name Jesus Christ existed (I hold no such belief) but that this same dude somehow is, or at least represents, the Almighty and that such a belief is universal in its application.

After the discussion and everyone was satisfied that he or she was not only a good person, but that eternal salvation was all but guaranteed, there was a collective dig in to the goodies people brought. I hung around for a respectful amount of time with sufficient chit chat after which there were ‘thank yous’ and ‘gotta gos’ and a bid of a hasty but subtle outahere.

My wife insists that I should raise this point and advise that I was uncomfortable with the scene imposed upon me. I’m reconciled that I’ll mention something. But I am not certain as to what.

Another incident occurred on Saturday evening that threw me into more than just a bit of ire.

I play classical guitar. Fairly well, I might add immodestly. And a couple times a month, I play in local restaurants. I am not exclusive to these places, nor they to me, so they schedule me with others who offer different types of musical fare.

And what’s to a schedule? There’s a piece of paper. You write down a name associated with the date and time. Presto! Schedule! Not tough.

So my friends, neighbors, family and co-workers want to know when and where I’m playing so they can dine casually and listen to my ambient background noise. Such was the case Saturday.

And with little fanfare or bombast my presence was made known. As I sought the spot where I would offer my humble tunes, I noted another individual who was singing innocuous familiar songs accompanying himself by strumming chords on a steel string guitar. I turned to the staff questioningly.

Let me back up a few weeks. The day after another such gig, my wife and I were working around our cabin in the Poconos when I received a phone call from the staff at the restaurant. They were calling to apologize because after scheduling additional gig dates, they failed to recognize they had double booked; a process of accidentally scheduling two acts where only one can fit. After a brief discussion, a re-scheduling was arrived that was mutually agreeable. Cue the organ music and we’re back to the present.

You will recall my turning to the staff questioningly? My inquiry was posed succinctly, directly albeit without customary eloguence: “What the fuck is this?”

What came next was a flurry of, “Oh we’re so sorry. We tried to call you but you didn’t pick up.” I pulled out my phone and looked at the messaging section that did not convey messages from this establishment. I showed them the absence of such contact accompanied without words but with a visible none too pretty scowl. “You’re still scheduled these dates.” They offered as though it were some sort of conciliatory point.

“First off, I have to call a bunch of folks who were coming here with the express purpose of seeing me.”

“Oh we’re so sorry. We can offer you and your wife a dinner on the house.”
“Secondly, I’ve been doing this for over 40 years. I’ve never once been double booked and you guys have done it to me twice in one month. Seems to me, something’s a tad disorganized here.”

And so I left agreeing to see everyone in a few days.

So the question still nags at me.

Is this what we have de-evolved into? A bunch of self absorbed myopic insensitive incompetents?

posted by Marty Brounstein @ 3:35 PM