...thanking people. A guy I used to know said that.
Gratitude is kind of a pain in the ass. Sometimes it seems I'd prefer a world without its presence. It smells of servitude. Maybe I should stop participating.
And yet, I am thankful. For what people bring to me from their lives. For artists whose work the world would be otherwise never see. I'm thankful that I'm lucky, that I'm happy at all, I'm thankful that I'm thankful.
That's something that happens. You feel thankful. So how is it "a day's work?" I guess it's in a distinction between the stuff you feel and stuff they tell you to feel.
When that guy made the statement above, had he ever consciously felt the real thing? Maybe not. He was a young man and disaffected. Maybe all he recognized was the imperative from on high. Still, I know what he meant. If you stop thanking people, what will they do? What will it cost you?
Take the old song Greensleeves, "I delight in your very company." But Henry VIII, or whoever, felt owed by the fact of that delight, of having loved her so well. He had a good brisk thanking coming. In this, I'm for Greenie. She should not be encumbered by his delight or his love. No one owes loving a goddamn thing.
I just Googled "thanks" and you know what I got? Among the hearts flowers and clip art, pics of babes who look like they're about to put out. What does that tell you?
I mean, obviously, if the way in which I saved you from the monster makes you want to fuck me, that's cool, that’s biochemistry, the limbic system. But, you have to want to.
Sometimes you can just say, “I like it that you...” instead of “Thank you for...” But not always.
I did get through a week without thanking anyone. The trick is to say "great,..." or "I'm happy that..." Unsophisticated forms, but I'm new a this. I notice how rarely other people actually use the word.
Another week. I thanked onebody, one word. Just didn't have the time to not. Like Cicero, St. Augustine, Pascal, Sam Johnson, Twain, or whoever is most responsible for the line that goes like, I'd write you a short letter but I don't have the time, so I'm writing you a long one.
A new surrogate today - "Very kind of you." Veddy kind indeed.
That's sort of it. This time I think I won't even pretend to resolve anything. That all right with you?
Thanks.
And while we're at it, we might knock off saying "sorry," quite so often. Or "excuse me." Like when you pass within two and a half feet of someone in the hall. Unless there are mangled corpses and significant property damage, just nod and walk on by. If you feel like smiling, then do so, a little. Maybe.
