OK…I need help. And I am not ashamed to ask for it.
Since last November, I have been trying to put a hopeful grass roots spin on events, attempting to find my way through the disappointments, disapprovals, and just plain disbeliefs that have occurred daily since the election.
I thought I was succeeding. And then came what I now call Black Thursday.
Let’s start with the little things
- A water delivery that wasn’t delivered.
- An express mail package that expressly said no signature required that needed to have a signature before it could be delivered.
- A pre-arranged appointment to buy and align four new tires and the tires were delivered to the wrong garage.
- A print-out from my computer of my bills and purchased tickets that was ordered from a copy and print shop that could not be found.
All minor, right? All one right after the other, right? That’s when minor begins to feel major. And then we come to the biggie…
I am a supporter of the arts…in many different ways. But for years I have my favorites and for years I receive my yearly phone call and chat from the development person of one of my favorites updating me with what is going on and concluding with my donation.
On Black Thursday, when I answered the call, someone from the development office… dare I say first day on the job… any job, anywhere, ever… said “Hello!” Reading from a badly written script, proceeded to remind me it was time to renew my membership.
Having never been approached for money for an artistic endeavor as if it was a renewal to a fitness center membership, I balked.
I did the Lily Tomlin thing and asked to speak to her supervisor.
The supervisor was smart enough to read from a different script. Not better, just different. One that is probably titled: READ THIS AFTER THEY ASK TO SPEAK TO THE SUPERVISOR.
We all receive these phone calls where placating the irate customer is reduced to repetitions. There is no response to what you are saying. They cannot and do not deviate from the script. That would actually involve listening to what you are saying and thinking about what you are saying and then responding to what you are saying.
So after a restless night, I have come to a sad conclusion. My Black Thursday is a symptom of the times we are living in. Of course, you can put it down to the ongoing electronic communication take over that is wiping out personal… whether on the telephone or in person… interaction. That is certainly a factor. But I am going further.
I think the country and the people in this country are suffering. I don’t care who you voted for or didn’t vote for…we are all suffering from Battered Voters Syndrome.
We are being bombarded by the vitriol of all sides and people are doing the one thing they cannot do… they mustn’t do! They are turning off.
And so we get a Black Thursday or a Muddy Monday or whatever dooms-like day where it just gets to be too much. We begin to disconnect and no one hears anyone, even those of us on the same side like my development person.
No ZOMBIES, please.
Even if we don’t agree, stay with me, hear me and I shall listen to you, I promise. I need my people fix! We are nothing without each other.
Wanna meet for coffee??????