Last weekend my lady fair was sitting at her spinning wheel doing a demonstration at a living history museum around here. The wheel never ceases to induce a trance in spectators, especially in little boys. An invisible force guides their hand to the spokes of the wheel, threatening to bust up the pudgy and unsuspecting little appendage. Disaster has been averted countless times by LF warning that though interesting and tempting the wheel may be, an ugly fate awaits the unwitting explorer should he advance any closer. It happens pretty much every time.
But then LF said something to me that I found kind of interesting: in watching the little boy, she got a glimpse of what she assumes I was like at that age. I thought about it for second and wondered, “You know, what
was I like at that age?” I have home movies of hamming it up for the camera (a proud tradition in our family), but they don’t really give a good indication of what I was like personality-wise. I've known many four- and five-year-olds that were wise beyond their years; there’s just something about them that tells me they’re harboring a soul from someone much older. Then there are the kids that seem completely devoid of any personality whatsoever. It’s not necessarily a bad trait or even their fault. A lot of adults are the same way. But when watching a little kid grow up, one tends to watch them closely to get a bead on what they’ll be like when they’re fully grown.
Occasional cute quip notwithstanding, I'm pretty sure I was rather dull when I was wee.
My parents tell me I was a pretty typical kid. I didn’t do anything exceptional like stage puppet shows, become a chess champion, or learn piano. Sports? Pfft. The closest I came to anything of a performance nature was dressing up as a member of KISS for Halloween and putting on a show for the neighbors. That would be through my older brother's influence, as he’s the extrovert of the two of us. I didn’t dazzle and entertain guests at my parents’ house parties with tap dance or singing. The only real brush I had with anything of a an exceptional nature was acting as bartender for my parents' wedding. Suffice it to say I was eight years old and knew less than squat about mixology, but I got a LOT of people drunk and no one complained about my heavy vodka, inhibition-dissolving hand.
The preceding paragraphs are the result of an introduction I had at the office yesterday. Someone’s son is going to be helping out/doing scutwork here during the summer, and the obligatory and awkward method of cubicle by cubicle introduction was imposed upon this kid. When he and the “hostess” got to me, the hostess warned him to “beware of this guy. He’s trouble.”
I gave a forced little laugh and gave the kid a When-I-see-you-at-the-coffee-maker-I’ll-make-it-abundantly-clear-that-I’m-not-one-to-fear-nor-am-I-an-instigator-of-any-sort---In-fact-I-think-you’ll-find-that-I’m-actually-quite-reserved---And-yes-I-do-keep-to-myself-mostly look.
A difficult look to master, but that’s what I flashed him. Or maybe I just shrugged my shoulders.
But it got me to thinking about how people perceive me. With first impressions, I try to nail someone’s personality and over time keep score on how accurate I was with the first impression. Why do I do this? I have no idea, but I’ve found that I have a pretty good sense for this stuff.
“...I'll bet if I go to her cube, I’ll find Johnny Depp wallpaper on her monitor and an “I Owe, I Owe, It’s Off To Work I Go” coffee mug full of Dunkin Donuts hazelnut coffee. Chances are also excellent that there will be a bag full of Diet Coke empties under her desk and a toucan-shaped picture frame featuring a picture of her and three drunken buddies in Cancun.”
I know, I‘m a pompous ass and I swear I don’t know where this comes from. But now the tables are turned. I walk through the halls and exchange pleasantries with people, and I know that they don’t know much about me. Word got out long ago that I’m in a band in some form or another, and aside from obvious external things like facial hair configurations that change with the tides, I don’t let on too much as far as personal stuff goes. I think I have at least an average personality, and I like to make people laugh. In fact, when I can’t make people laugh, it just freaks me out and I go into panic mode and make an even bigger ass of myself. I’ve also found in an office environment that if you’re animated when you speak or joke around, you’re labeled an utter goof and being taken seriously is out of the question. I’ll never understand that.
Levity in an office can and should go beyond that confounded dancing CGI baby or yet another email about the uncanny resemblance of Bush to a primate. Raise the bar for crissakes, people.
The cutie you see here to the left is my little brother, and he just graduated from college with honors. Mind you, he’s aged twenty years since this photo was taken, and I could easily slip into the “where did the time go blah blah blah” bit, but I’ll refrain. I know exactly where the time went.
