maybe it's the volume of the times and events in general.
or maybe we've just become accustomed to talking over each other, escalating from there.
if the spaceneedl household is any barometer, it impacts us in ways many and profound.
shoot, even the orcas are yelling at each other.
how do i reconcile yelling at my children nonstop throughout the day (on vacation, no less), then getting misty-eyed over a fictional boy dying on "gray's anatomy"? transference is a powerful psychological mechanism, i realize. but i already know it's just a damn tv show. i know they're trying to be as manipulative as they can in 44 minutes.
for their part, the spaceneedl children worked nonstop this week to aggravate me and the missus. in ways many and profound. example one (of thousands): taking off skis to go into the lodge for lunch. i stacked mine together in the rack; the boy, unbeknownst to me, dropped his skis and poles in a pile behind me. just, on the ground, right in the middle of everything. plah. i take one step back and stumble into them, nearly pratfall-like. he was totally mystified why i might be aggrieved by this.
example two (of millions): the missus tells the girl it's time for bed. go get your pajamas on, brush your teeth, get into bed, lights out. please. we have to tell them in this level of detail, else they'll skip every step and say, "well, you didn't say to do that."
minutes pass, no movement. i reiterate, in a still-calm voice -- it's time for bed. please do this, that and the other thing.
more minutes pass. now i'm irritated. shut the tv off! move! now!
the children get offended over being yelled at. "tsk, okay, geez, you don't have to yell." actually, we do have to yell. no activity takes place prior to the yelling. it has occurred to me that we should save time and skip straight to the yelling. but that might make me seem unreasonable, mightn't it?
and these are allegedly smart children. that's what people tell us, anyway. good lord, what are the dumb ones like? ("objection." "sustained." "i withdraw the question, your honor.")
maybe it's the volume of the pace of the ridiculousness of the times. it feels like everything has to be efficient and streamlined and glitch-free, or we're at risk of failure to optimize the stakeholders' value and future returns.
the orcas are endangered, struggling not to go the way of the [insert extinct species here]. "watch out for that cruise ship!" "hmm, water's tasting kinda petrochemical-y today." "has anyone seen any salmon?"
at least they have good reason to yell at each other.
i suppose the takeaway here is that sage bit of bumper sticker wisdom: spyhop more. echolocate less.
wait, that's not right. it's: bark less. wag more.