My Grandpa Roy lived with us when I was a kid. His room was upstairs, across the hall from mine. He was a ‘salty old dog’, a ‘rounder’ as they used to say. By definition that would be someone who frequents bars, likes his booze, whose conduct would be deemed immoral. My parents did not approve of his indiscretions. He might come home under the weather but he did his carousing elsewhere. Wine and women; what can you say! But calling him a ‘Rounder’ would capture just a splinter of his personage. He could be endearing as well and that’s the side I choose to remember.
We got our first television set in the early 1950’s. Roy was especially fond of football and wrestling. A self anointed authority on both, he believed that wrestling was legitimate, no pulling punches, no fake falls. The idea of a fixed fight was unthinkable. Airplane spins and full body slams after all, that’s how real men fight. Of course I took him to task and he would send me on my way. I was just a kid, what did I know. Football was a little different. He thought the players and coaches were absolutely stupid, absolutely. Why else would they keep running straight ahead into the dog pile? His idea was to run left or right, away from the pile. I tried to explain; the pile will follow the ball wherever it goes. That drew his ire as well. What puzzled me was, how in the world someone as worldly experienced as my Grandpa Roy could be duped so easily? He wasn’t stupid. He knew too much about too many things. But when it came to wrestling or football, the only thing that exceeded his self attributed expertise was a deep well of ignorance. I think that’s what I’m writing about today, presumed expertise and the deep well of ignorance.
Recently, in the last few days of the Trump fiasco, I’ve been thinking about Trump-aholics who faithfully rally to his cause. To some extent, giving them credit where I can, it’s like the folk tale, ‘The Emperor Has No Clothes’. The Emperor goes about wearing only imaginary clothes, bare naked. The royal weaver (scam artist) convinces the Emperor that the clothes he weaves are made of a magical material that can only be seen by people who are both honest and intelligent. Everybody sees the naked emperor in his birthday suit but are afraid to say anything. Calling attention to his bare butt would be self inflicted admission to both stupidity and dishonesty. The Emperor is snared in the same trap while the weaver laughs all the way to the bank. D.T. would be the weaver in this analogy and his loyal disciples are all afraid to appear stupid or disloyal. With enough motivated denial, one can believe anything so they do, whatever it takes to make them feel important. My Grandpa Roy would have been a full fledged, hang by his tail, Trump monkey. All he required was a drink, he needed to feel important, and to hear simple solutions for complicated problems like (build a wall).
I taught elementary school physical education for several years when any job was better than substituting. Supervising playground at recess I learned a major life lesson. Playground bullies grow up but they don’t change their ways. The most important, consistent bully behavior was then, still is; ‘if you get caught in a lie, deny, deny, deny!’ Even when everybody knows who is guilty, the bully lies long and loud, it was the other guy, over and over, again and again and again. Everyone is afraid to challenge the bully, it comes at a painful price. At the end of the day, the bully’s words are what people remember. I call it the ‘Playground Bully Principle.’ It can be abusive or subtle but it always follows the same rule, at any age, “Punishment is the greatest motivator in human history; use it.” In as many words, “Promise the carrot, deliver the stick.” D.T. glorifies that strategy every time he opens his mouth. I think Grandpa Roy would have submitted rather than risk the consequence. I understand and agree, one has to pick their battles carefully and in doing so, be prudent. I’m not one to challenge people either but I have a good memory and with the right motivation I can be devious. Not something I would boast but then maybe I get it from Roy; not a bully but not someone you want to provoke either.
We got our first television set in the early 1950’s. Roy was especially fond of football and wrestling. A self anointed authority on both, he believed that wrestling was legitimate, no pulling punches, no fake falls. The idea of a fixed fight was unthinkable. Airplane spins and full body slams after all, that’s how real men fight. Of course I took him to task and he would send me on my way. I was just a kid, what did I know. Football was a little different. He thought the players and coaches were absolutely stupid, absolutely. Why else would they keep running straight ahead into the dog pile? His idea was to run left or right, away from the pile. I tried to explain; the pile will follow the ball wherever it goes. That drew his ire as well. What puzzled me was, how in the world someone as worldly experienced as my Grandpa Roy could be duped so easily? He wasn’t stupid. He knew too much about too many things. But when it came to wrestling or football, the only thing that exceeded his self attributed expertise was a deep well of ignorance. I think that’s what I’m writing about today, presumed expertise and the deep well of ignorance.
Recently, in the last few days of the Trump fiasco, I’ve been thinking about Trump-aholics who faithfully rally to his cause. To some extent, giving them credit where I can, it’s like the folk tale, ‘The Emperor Has No Clothes’. The Emperor goes about wearing only imaginary clothes, bare naked. The royal weaver (scam artist) convinces the Emperor that the clothes he weaves are made of a magical material that can only be seen by people who are both honest and intelligent. Everybody sees the naked emperor in his birthday suit but are afraid to say anything. Calling attention to his bare butt would be self inflicted admission to both stupidity and dishonesty. The Emperor is snared in the same trap while the weaver laughs all the way to the bank. D.T. would be the weaver in this analogy and his loyal disciples are all afraid to appear stupid or disloyal. With enough motivated denial, one can believe anything so they do, whatever it takes to make them feel important. My Grandpa Roy would have been a full fledged, hang by his tail, Trump monkey. All he required was a drink, he needed to feel important, and to hear simple solutions for complicated problems like (build a wall).
I taught elementary school physical education for several years when any job was better than substituting. Supervising playground at recess I learned a major life lesson. Playground bullies grow up but they don’t change their ways. The most important, consistent bully behavior was then, still is; ‘if you get caught in a lie, deny, deny, deny!’ Even when everybody knows who is guilty, the bully lies long and loud, it was the other guy, over and over, again and again and again. Everyone is afraid to challenge the bully, it comes at a painful price. At the end of the day, the bully’s words are what people remember. I call it the ‘Playground Bully Principle.’ It can be abusive or subtle but it always follows the same rule, at any age, “Punishment is the greatest motivator in human history; use it.” In as many words, “Promise the carrot, deliver the stick.” D.T. glorifies that strategy every time he opens his mouth. I think Grandpa Roy would have submitted rather than risk the consequence. I understand and agree, one has to pick their battles carefully and in doing so, be prudent. I’m not one to challenge people either but I have a good memory and with the right motivation I can be devious. Not something I would boast but then maybe I get it from Roy; not a bully but not someone you want to provoke either.
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