Some insults make you scratch your head and wonder if the person who hurled such nasty epithets at you was dropped on their melon as a child or has been eating Tide pods.
A gentleman called me a crumb on a post about the January 6 hearings. Others used far more colorful language to describe me and my lineage but crumb was the only one I noticed.
Not because I was insulted but because it amused me. I can only remember being called it one other time in my life, approximately 20 years ago but I can’t remember why it was used.
Just that I found it amusing then too.
There is no zing, oomph or punch to it.
It is like the Tofu of insults, it has no taste.
Given my love for words and language I pay attention to what is written and or spoken, particularly if it is directed my way.
“If a fact bit you in the behind you would ignore it because in your world reality bites.”
That line might be among my favorites of things I come across during the recent past. Far more descriptive and colorful than ‘crumb.’
When I was a younger man and in the middle of the puberty menagerie we called junior high we were required to do a couple of things that made my hormones surge.
Journal writing and discussions on values.
Though I had joined my school newspaper I saw no connection between learning how to write sports, news and feature stories and a journal.
Had no interest in writing down my thoughts or feelings about anything and only did so to procure a good grade. I am sure that much of what I wrote showed my disdain for the activities.
I suspect some of my teachers found reading our words as distasteful as we felt putting them upon the page.
Can’t say that I remember much in the way of criticism that reflected that but given the decades since my memory may be at fault.
The closest I can come is to pull out some of the junior high school newspapers and revisit 13 year-old me but that won’t show what the teachers thought so we’re left with supposition.
Can’t say it matters much whether we can answer the question or not. It is really my own curiosity and I don’t think an affirmation or rebuttal of my suspicion will carry any lasting impact.
It is ironic to recognize change in my interest in general writing and journaling between then and now. Now I love it, but I do wonder if I would have the same desire if I had to write it by hand.
Not just because my penmanship isn’t particularly clean but because there is a different rhythm to using a pen and using a keyboard.
Sometimes I play around with it just to see what I come up with but it usually doesn’t last very long. Too many mistakes, scribbles and scratches irk me.
If you are among the long time readers you probably have begun to find it easier to identify my writing but almost none of you have seen my handwriting.
Makes me wonder a bit what would happen if I sent out handwritten letters. Would you know it was me or would the different format throw you.
Text Versus Talk
One of the guys told me how much he hates speaking on the telephone and how he prefers to text than talk.
Can’t say that I don’t understand the premise and his reasons but I was reminded the other day about the importance of voice in a conversation.
The finest writing can provide a deep, layered picture for the reader but sometimes those same words are elevated by being spoken.
Tone of voice and emphasis impacts so much. How you say it adds more depth and color. I played a couple of recent messages two or three times for that very reason.
It answered some of my questions and provided the deeper understanding I was looking for. I was grateful for that and made a mental note to try to increase that kind of communication.
Sometimes two minutes of talk is equal to 50,000 words or so thinks the guy who was called a crumb twice. 😉