Random Esquire

Please settle a disagreement for me.

I said to a friend, “If you follow Nascar, you also follow the Jon Benet Ramsey murder story.”

She disagrees.

I say Nascar and Jon Benet following go hand in hand!  It’s the law!

WHO’S WITH ME?

I was discussing apologies with a co-worker the other day. I don’t understand why some people don’t ever say they are sorry. The way I figure it…if you were a jerk and you know it, you should apologize.   Not apologizing is basically not acknowledging it to yourself.   It isn’t as if the person to whom you owe the apology is going to be surprised to hear you were a jerk, right?  But I think it’s a fair bit of human nature to deny our own less than perfect sides.  I knows it’s wrong of me but I find it sort of amusing when people behave this way but it’s predictable and that makes it sort of funny.

The most amusing and infuriating?  The faux apology.  There are some basic types of fauxpology.

1.  I’m sorry if…

This is a classic.  It normally takes the form of “I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings.”  Which is sort of funny because I’d wager that 99% of the time, the person making the fauxpology knows that feelings were hurt and just doesn’t think that it was warranted so they fauxpologize.

Translation:  “I know you have hurt feelings but I don’t think you should so, you know…whatever.”

2.  A kissing cousin to the above is the infamous:  I’m sorry you feel that way.

This is the equivalent of a back-handed compliment.  It allows the offerer to both acknowledge some regret about the situation and place the responsibility for it squarely on the shoulders of the listener.  It’s sort of the best fauxpology ever.  In fact, if you ever do something completely crappy but don’t really care, this is the one for you.

Translation:  “When you think about it, it’s sort of your own fault that you feel the way you do.”

3.  I’m sorry, but…

This is normally followed by all the reasons the person believes they don’t really owe an apology. In fact, the “,but…” is almost always followed with a “…you…” to make the full beginning of the fauxpology: “I’m sorry, but you…” and you can guarantee that whatever is about to follow is a justification for being a jerk.  In fact, as soon as you hear someone say “I’m sorry, but…” you can follow everything that comes after the word ‘but’ with “not really.”

Translation:  “I’m sorry, but …not really.”

So, I’m curious… What other fauxpologies are there?

1.  Besos said I could write about something she did … but I can’t tease her about it for a month after I post.   That month is gonna start soon.  I hope I can be strong.

2.  I saw a quote float by on the screen in the elevator up to my office.  It was by Bristol Palin.  She said it was not realistic to expect abstinence outside of marriage.

Does anyone else find this as hilarious as I do?  She basically said that if you’re married, it’s reasonable to expect some abstinence.  Outside of that, though, not terribly realistic of you.  That cracked my shit up.

3.  I let myself get talked into participating in a drink making competition against some food and drink editors.  It was last night.  As I saw the contestants arrive with blood oranges and foams and ginger, I started to look at my very traditional drink recipe and hoped that the judges wouldn’t be releasing scorecards.  To my complete surprise…I won.  And now the recipe is going to be on the website of this national restaurant.  WTF.

4.  Valentine’s Day:  I’m horribly unromantic.  This point was brought home again when, after V-day, someone asked me what I got for Besos and I had to pause and consider how it was going to sound coming out of my mouth.  Basically, I chipped in on her new laptop.  OOOO, ROMANTIC.  What did Besos get for me?  heh.

She got me underwear that says ROTTEN on the butt.  No kidding.  It’s sort of appropriate.  Of course, it came with a black t-shirt that said, “Bad to the Bone.”

Hells yeah.

5.  Back to #1 and what Besos did…part of the reason I’m delighted with this discovery in her past is that Besos is good.  She’s so good.  She’s sweet and kind and patient and loving.  And just all around…SWEET.  So when I learned about something she did (during breakfast with a friend of ours), my jaw hit the ground and I was scandalized (jokingly).  This is the kind of thing I would do because I’m an asshole.  I then proceeded to tease her mercilessly about it.

After a point, she said ENOUGH.  See, this is the thing…Besos feels badly about it.  And that right there is the difference.  If I had done it, I might have bought a t-shirt declaring it.  She, however, is good.

More on that later.

Okay, that might be a little harsh.  But only a little.

Due to circumstances entirely within his control, my father’s actions and words are not often met with complete trust and, instead, are sometimes viewed with a healthy bit of skepticism.  This is mainly because he’s an idiot and does not know how to treat women.  But let me back up and start with a phone call I received while in the office on Wednesday afternoon.

My father called me – which is unusual.  He sounded very upset.  He relayed that he and my mother had had an argument.  It all began when my mother received a phone call from a tire dealership informing her that the two tires my father had ordered were available for pick-up.  My mother is really good at taking something that would not ordinarily bother a sane human being and turning into something very personal.  And my father is very good at being stupid.  The combination of these two things often leads to less than desirable results. In this particular case, it resulted in my mother feeling as if my father never tells her what he’s spending money on, a clear representation of his lack of complete honesty and un-front-ness (a feeling that is not unfounded). I often get stuck as referee.

My father said, “I thought I mentioned it to her…and you were there. Do you remember?” I said yes, I did remember and he did, in fact, tell her that he’d bought the tires. I said, “I’ll call her.”

I called my mother and, in a way only mothers can fake, she sounded entirely normal. I said, “I just spoke with dad. He sounds upset.” She said, “Really? Why?” I love this. I said, “Because you two had a fight. Mom, he mentioned the tires a few days ago.” She paused. “Really?” I said, “Really.” She said, “Shit.”

I said, “You better be making something good for dinner. Tell him you’re sorry when he gets home.” I called back my father. He was relieved that he hadn’t been dreaming the entire thing. I said, “Look, you should just know that this is partly the result of your own actions and you’re going to be paying this piper back for a while, even over things that aren’t entirely valid. Her feelings are mostly your fault. Okay?” He agreed.

Evening rolled around. I called my parents. My mother answered. I said, “I called to see if you two lovebirds had kissed and made up.” She laughed and said, “We never talked about it.” I said, “WHAT?” She laughed and said, “Neither of us brought it up.” I said, “You need to tell him you’re sorry.” She said, “OKAY.”

The next day, she called. I said, “Did you apologize?” She said, “Yes.” And then she laughed.

I’m telling you people: They’re idiots.

1.  I returned from the Nassau / Paradise Island yesterday after a few days in which the Bahamas decided to experience a cold front.  Not much sun was had but it was still a tremendous amount of fun.  It was, more or less, a family event with adjoining rooms and lots of time with my niece and nephew.  It’s good to spend time with them and the more time I have, the less child-stupid I feel.  Let me give you an example of my child idocy.

The last time I visited my sister, I walked down a hall and into the bathroom and turned to close the door just in time for my niece to have followed me in, eyes watching me closely.  I said, “Uh…um…”  My sister called out from the other room, “Tell her you need P-R-I-V-A-C-Y.”  Me, being the idiot I am, looked at my niece and said, “I need P-R-I-V-A-C-Y.”  My sister said, “Don’t spell it for her!”  I said, “Oh!  I need some privacy.”  And my niece promptly left and informed me that she’d be waiting just outside I wrapped things up.

2.  I did an interview for a podcast on some of my experiences taking pictures in some Chicago restaurant kitchens, particularly L2O, as it coincided with Anthony Bourdain’s latest episode of No Reservations in which he dined in the restaurant.  (Filmed while the Seattle folks were here and despite our best efforts, Bev was not able to stalk him.)  I downloaded it on iTunes and, I have to say, it’s really strange to hear my voice like that.  I was particularly concerned that I’d have pulled a Will Shortz who, while doing a podcast, breathes so loudly into the phone, you want to knock him down and steal his inhaler.

3.  Tonight, Besos came over and I fixed dinner.  We have not had much time together in the last few weeks as I had a cold and suffer serious cold-transference guilt.   I will be happy to crawl into bed next to her tonight and reach for her.

4.  I effectuated a break up between QTMama and one of her boytoys.  At her bidding, mind you.  I’m somewhat tempted to start a service.  Everyone should have his or her lawyer do their breaking up for them.

5.  I’m feeling write-y.  Prepare for blog bombing.