Saturday, January 18, 2025

Recurring Problems

 


I have this recurring problem with people.  Namely, that they annoy me.  I'm not totally sure why this is.  I don't think it's because most people are annoying - although I have my suspicions - and I don't think it's because I find myself fascinating - although I'm not being entirely genuine there, either, as you may have deduced from the ongoing fascination I have with all things Seaweed.  The mystery is why I approach most people with the “you're going to be annoying” attitude.  I suspect I enjoy the comfortable feeling of superiority it gives me.  Who, after all, doesn't enjoy feeling a little better than everyone else?


I'm on a ship with a lot of wealthy people.  They're also older than me to a large extent and most of them haven't been too diligent in taking care of their bodies.  Sometimes I wonder if I spend too much time minding my physical self so seeing what happens when you don't is somewhat gratifying  . . .  no, not gratifying as that implies I enjoy seeing overweight people lumbering from buffet to buffet but more affirming.  It's better to read than to watch TV and it's better to meditate than to doom-scroll on your mobile.  Take care of the body, mind, and spirit or fade away.


Anyway, we ate at a shared table on Night One.  There was a steady stream of competitive traveling - one boring woman tried to convince us to change hotels at our last stop because she knew the best hotel in that city.  We picked our hotel by parsing a number of parameters - cost, services, location, etc - and did not try to find the “best” hotel.  There were a steady stream of references from both couples concerning their “second homes.”  I would have talked about my mobile home but SuperK would have killed me.  Jobs were front and foremost, too, with a lot of mentions of where the job required the individual to travel to.  When I was asked what I did I said “I inherited a lot of money from my father so I didn't have to work.”  I really said that although I did come clean after a few beats.  Kids and their accomplishments was de rigeur as a relentless topic of converation . . . Who gives a shit?  Do you think I want to see pictures about your kids’ belongings.  As my neighbor Hank the Curmudgeon once quipped: “No, I don't want to hear about your grandkids.”


Part of the deal for me is that I'm so used to the real, deep, heartfelt relationships we have in Alcoholics Anonymous where when someone asks me how I'm doing what they want to know is how I'm doing.


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