Observation

In an earlier post, I mentioned that I was much more restrained in my political fervor than most of the people who I'd met at an Obama event, and wondered if there was, essentially, something wrong with my attitude -- too tepid, too moderate. Was it possible, I was thinking, that I was being too meek in how I approached my support of Obama (and, by inference, any worthwhile cause). In response, one person said some very nice things about me, concluding that due to my qualities, she wanted to have sex with me, bear my child, and paint my house. Well, no, she didn't go quite that far .... which is unfortunate, as the house could use painting, particularly back by the deck.

I did appreciate what she said, though, because I do worry a little about that lack of intensity. I simply don't get very excited about many things. That might be hard for some people to accept who have seen me get excited, even enraged, when something tripped the lever that released the great fiery beasts of unreason, all snarling and growling into the sunlight, and they might wonder how I can describe myself as such a milquetoast. One person with whom I worked once commented that he was not coming back to talk to me again unless he was carrying a stick. I was having a very bad day, at the time, and he felt I was a little on edge. But most days, I'm pretty quiet, pretty easy going. And when I see something that brings up the question of which way to go, I tend to approach the question systematically. Not necessarily logically, you understand, but systematically. I make lists. I ponder things. I weigh the evidence. And then I use the dual state probability indicator, aka a flipping coin, if all else fails. But I don't get agitated.

So to see people who do take this stuff intensely always sets me back a bit. Take it seriously, sure. Its important. But feverishly, rabidly, remembering slights from years gone by? Ah, no. Not for me.