When Things Go Wrong

Like most people, I have beliefs, er, to put that a bit less obliquely, I believe stuff without having a real good reason for it. If you don’t think you are one of those people, then you clearly aren’t being honest with yourself. You can try to be as comprehensive as you are at eliminating crazy things you believe, but you can’t do it all. Too much stuff happens in life that we just don’t question.

Examples? Sure. From my own life, I believe that things will more or less, work out okay. I know intellectually that might not be the case, but when s#!t  starts going down, I always think that it’s all about to turn around for me. I’ve seen enough tragedy in my life to know that isn’t the case. I’ve seen cancer, accidents, even murder, disrupt and destroy the lives of people I know and care for. Doesn’t matter, nothing that bad will happen to me. It’s a matter of faith really. I’m sure there are some deep, psychological nuances at play that make that way. But still, I’m okay with that.

Anyhow, that’s just an example. But some folks have those sorts of beliefs about things that are demonstrably false. Wait, I might have used the wrong adverb there, demonstrate-ably false.

Example number two: I love my grandmother, she is more awesome than most. She grew up during the great depression and has seen some real s#!tty things in her life. She can go through a tin of snuff in a day, and string a bushel of beans even faster. She has broken more bones in the past decade than I have during my entire life. She still plugs away, outliving all of her 13 brothers and sisters and refusing to let much of anything stop her. She doesn’t suffer fools lightly though, bring your A-game if you visit, because she’ll eat you up if you don’t.

So, you know that little light in the fridge? Don’t bring it up around my Grandma. And for the love of all that is good in your life, don’t flick the little switch to show her how the light goes on and off in her fridge when you shut the door. She will beat you with whatever she has handy. Pray that it isn’t an iron skillet. She wins that argument, don’t even try.

Did I have a point? Yes, when I started writing I did have one. Whatever it was is lost on me now. It probably had something to do with seeing someone give a misguided rant on the internet. I mean, rant all you want about how unfair something is, or how bad something smells, about how fat Americans are, whatever. Just don’t go on a rant about something I can disprove as easily as my grandma’s eternal fridge-light theory.