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Hit Me Again, I Can Take It

Despite the sometimes divisive topics I write about daily, most of the comments people leave under my posts are positive. But don’t you worry — I take my share of  barbed rebukes as well. Since it can be terribly difficult for some to take criticism, I thought I should share what I’ve learned.

Mood music:

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To show I’m an equal opportunity kinda guy, let me start by sharing the not-so-nice reactions readers have had to my work of late. This one came from a guy who didn’t like my tone in the CSOonline Salted Hash security blog when I told people to stop passing around a hoax Facebook message about privacy rights (or the lack thereof for those who insist on posting everything about themselves):

Wow. Have you ever considered writing in a slightly less condescending, obnoxious manner? It might improve the rate at which your message is successfully received by others … that is, of course, premised on the notion that your words function as a means for communication and not as a tool for artificially boosting your self-esteem.

My response was this:

Sorry you feel that way. It’s not about trying to be condescending. It’s about forcefully arguing a point. You are, of course, welcome to stop reading. No hard feelings.

It wouldn’t surprise me in the least if he were one of the people who fell for the Facebook hoax. If he’s embarrassed and lashing me makes him feel better, I’m fine with that.

Yesterday’s post on dealing with dysfunctional family got me a flaming response from a relative who told me I should stop being mean. It was the kind of message that had various words in all caps and lots of exclamation points. In an act of mercy (I didn’t want people to see this person making herself look bad), I deleted the comment, which is rare for me.

Angry comments from family tend to be toughest to digest, but given the semi-autobiographical nature of this blog, I’d be a fool to expect all sunshine and roses.

Happily, most family members who read my posts get where I’m coming from. And I’ve said it before: My memories are my memories. They may not represent the whole unvarnished truth, and there’s always another side to the story. But I tell you things as truthfully as I can, based on how I remember events. It’s but one perspective.

I could stop writing or limit what I do write to the type of stuff that never offends and never tries to get at the truth. But that’s not my style.

If you don’t want to offend or be offended, writing is the wrong profession for you. There are times when you have to take clear, forceful views and  prepare to be violently disagreed with. There are also times when every unpleasant detail must be added to give readers the clearest picture of the points you need to make. I’ve written about some unpleasant childhood memories, but I’ve ended almost all such posts on a positive note, because I know how lucky I am to have the life I’m living.

If you want to disagree with me, go ahead. If you want me to change my approach or my opinions, you may as well stop reading now.

You Can't Handle the Truth

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Four Survival Tips for Dysfunctional Family Events

I’ll admit it: I’m something of a black sheep in my family. There’s a large chunk of family I have little to no communication with. But sometimes big events require us to be together in the same space, like a wedding this coming Saturday. What to do?

Mood music:

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I’m thinking about this because the family member I’m most estranged from sent me a Facebook friend request yesterday. Since she unfriended and blocked me a few months ago, pissed to the gills over this blog and some of the memories I’ve shared here, I decided to decline the invitation. I really don’t need to hear the same old bullshit about how this person is the victim and how my recollections are distorted.

But Erin, the kids and I still have to share the same space with this person on Saturday, so I’m thinking a lot about how we should conduct ourselves. In the process, a survival guide is forming in my head. It is in no way scientific. It may not even work. But it’s what I’ve got so far.

  • Smile and say hello. Sure you can give your estranged loved one an icy stare and cold shoulder, but all that will do is throw tension in the air for everyone to bathe in. That wouldn’t be fair. I despise people who let their selfishness wreck someone else’s special occasion. Just smile and say hello. You don’t have to have a conversation. Just be cordial when face to face. My extended family deserves some credit on this score, because at a wedding over the summer everyone behaved. I think it’ll be the same this time.
  • Don’t stare. If there’s one thing I hate at family gatherings, it’s when people stare at you. I’ve been stared at during all kinds of family events involving all sides of my clan. It leaves me wondering if I have potato salad in my beard or a hole in my pants. I can’t stop people from staring, but I’ve decided not to stare back. Staring contests never end well.
  • Find a buddy. No matter how many people you’re not getting along with, you can always count on finding a few people you are getting along with. Instead of staring at others, find the family and friends you get on well with and spend your the time talking to them.
  • Don’t linger if you’re uncomfortable. Some would say it’s rude and selfish to be the family member who leaves the event early. I disagree. If you linger and your comfort level is stuck in the low setting the whole time, it’ll show in your body language and the people around you will feel it. Why do that to them?  When that’s the case, gracefully remove yourself from the scene.
  • Say your goodbyes, give some hugs and leave.

Help Me Wedding Photo

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When Fakes Go for the Kill

We do a lot of stupid things to gain acceptance among others. Many of those things go back to being a fake. Some of you have been guilty at some point. So have I. The question is if anything good can come from our shenanigans.

Mood music:

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I’ll start with myself. Someone who means the world to me recently suggested that I’m the star-struck type. I love making friends with musicians, especially when I’m a fan of their music. It sounds sick, but I’m kind of proud that some locally famous “rock star” types read this blog and think I’m worth having a conversation with. I get the same way when respected people in my industry give me the time of day, not to mention other writers. Sometimes, my desire for acceptance in these circles will influence how I dress and even how I talk.

I’m almost ashamed to admit it all. If there’s any redeeming aspect of this, it’s that my star-struck nature has led me to some real friendships — friendships that have made me a better person. And if someone is an asshole, I’m not going to try being their buddy no matter how much I love their music or respect whatever else they do for work. Still, I can’t deny the behavior exists.

It’s all the funnier because I can be the most judgmental fuck on the face of this planet when I see other people being fake.

When the wannabes think it’s cool to throw verbal bombs online to get attention (some call this trolling), I’m quick to stare down my nose at them. I pat myself on the back for not being a troll in these moments, but is that really true? I’m a product of the news business, where editors try to make headlines as attention-grabbing as possible. One could legitimately call that a form of trolling.

I know people who turn fake when they want the world to think they’ve found the perfect soulmate. They post lovey-dovey comments to each other on Facebook all day and jam cyberspace with pictures of them hugging and smiling. Then you find out from people close to them that it’s all for show, that they argue all the time.

There are those who want to be accepted in wealthy social circles even though they may not have a lot of money. They max their credit cards out on clothes and cars to look the part and kiss asses all day in the country clubs and five-star restaurants. Then they go home to their leaky roof, chipped paint and stack of unpaid bills.

Then there are those who want to be accepted so badly in the political world that they’ll pull their principles inside out and say whatever will make people like them. Mitt Romney, this year’s likely Republican nominee for president, has been accused of being this way. Al Gore was accused of it, too, as was John McCain. A pity, because they all show signs of greatness when they’re being themselves.

I think one of the reasons some of us become addicts is because we know we’re fake and want to numb the shameful feelings that go with that look in the mirror. I think it’s why some of us suffer from depression, too.

Nothing sucks quite like knowing you’re not keeping it real. Being fake is exhausting work.

So what do we do about it?

There’s probably not much we can do because we’re dealing with flaws at the very core of human nature. For my part, I just try to figure out who my real friends are along the way and try to nurture those relationships. Maybe some of my friendships started with me being a star-struck idiot (those friends would probably laugh at this, because they know they don’t qualify as genuine stars), but the ones that became real friendships have made me better.

Or, at least, it’s made me take a sober look in the mirror more often. Hopefully, the man that emerges over time will be the real deal.