Month: February 2016

This morning I asked my friend Matt if I’d ever mentioned how irritating I find the phrase “friendly reminder.”

He immediately said, “It sounds kind of passive aggressive.”

Yes! Bingo! Drum roll, and all that stuff!

When I see something that says, “friendly reminder,” I question why it would be anything other than friendly. Am I accustomed to getting snarky, mean-spirited or angry reminders from this source?

Have I been somehow remiss and deserving of a nasty note (Your library book is overdue! Or, you forgot to pick up your kid at daycare!  Or, you missed your first payment on the billion dollar loan I made to you.)?

I have often imagined the scene behind this communication.

A boss will say, “Make sure you send a friendly reminder to everyone to return their forms to HR by Friday.”  And the responsible person, wanting to do what is expected of her, sends out a notice titled “friendly reminder.”

C’mon!  Just do it in a non-snarky way. Don’t tell us you’re being friendly.  How about just crafting something polite and to the point, “Please return your blah-de-blah forms to HR by Friday so that we can make sure you’re properly enrolled in time for the new year.”

Or: “We look forward to seeing you at your dental appointment on Monday. Be sure to let us know if you need to change your appointment for any reason.”

Otherwise, it sounds like you’re saying, “I’m telling you this is a friendly reminder, but I really am terribly angry and don’t have the slightest bit of confidence that you will remember to do what you’ve committed to do.”

I don’t think friendly reminders are intended to make me grumpy. So skip the label and just be direct.  I will feel infinitely more friendly toward you.

 

 

A few days after the tragic September 11 events, two of my friends had lunch together.

One stated how angry he was. The other said, “You know, sometimes anger just covers up sadness.”

I think I’m finally so tired of being angry about politics that all I feel now is the sadness.

Like the amazing Sheriff Dave Ward of Harney County who let us see his breaking heart several times during the Malheur County episode, I’m sad, and I, too, want to ask the question, “How did we get to this point?”

How did we get to a place where significant numbers of Americans don’t trust the government in any way — to the point that they feel justified in taking up arms against that very government?

How have we lost all respect for each other, so that both in person and in the media we can use the crassest, most offensive language in the guise of trying to change each others’ opinions?

How is it that we don’t value the voting process above every other aspect of government and that we don’t appreciate how amazingly well this precious democracy has worked for more than two decades?

When did it become impossible to disagree with civility, rather than dislike, distrust and disrespect?

The incident at Malheur clarified for me how much I value our processes, and I surprised myself at the waves of pride I felt for our democratic legacy.  And I suddenly felt shocked that not everyone here appreciates the beautiful and fragile nature of this system.

To those who say that our government has become tyrannical, I ask in what form? Is there any doubt that we are a safe, healthy and productive population with possibly more freedom than any place in the world?

Could you imagine any other government that would have taken such pains to try to find a peaceful and civil resolution to the Malheur standoff?

How did we get to this place, then, where we can barely speak to each other civilly, and where there are those who hate not only the government, but who disparage those with the courage to run for public office?

I often feel that there are parallel universes. I listen to President Obama, and I hear a reasoned, controlled, intelligent voice of a man who is trying to do his best. My friends Mark and Mason listen, and they hear a despot with some nefarious agenda.  How can this happen?

In this, my 65th year, I am filled with patriotism so great that I could burst.  At the same time, I don’t know how to help us heal so that we once again are one nation, indivisible.

I just know that the anger no longer feels good, and I’ll have to learn to live with the sadness.