Although I've embarrassed my daughter more times than I can count via my habit of engaging strangers in conversations - on the streets, in restaurants, anywhere really - I don't plan to ever stop doing this. Truth be told, not only is this habit something I like about myself, on more than a few occasions I've connected in a genuine way with people. The fact that it's unlikely I'll ever interact again with any of these strangers is irrelevant. The human connection is what energizes me. And who's to say the same thing won't be true for one or more of these strangers? What have any of us got to lose by trying to connect in this way?
While making a few trips to my car carrying my equipment after teaching a class at a local college, it was hard to ignore the two young women sitting in the lobby engaged in an animated conversation filled with infectious laughter. With a big smile on my face I joked with them about keeping the noise down, a remark that elicited more laughter from both. Before leaving the building, I engaged them further - this is the part that drives my daughter to distraction - suggesting they would benefit from retaining their contagious enthusiasm as their lives unfold. I briefly shared how often in my younger life well-meaning but misguided naysayers would tell me to "tone it down" or words to that effect when my enthusiasm struck one of them as "too much". In my experience, the stifling of positive energy - like those two young women embodied - is an all-too-common occurrence. Why not encourage enthusiasm and reward the passion of people who live their lives aloud? Who benefits when the energy that makes the world a more vibrant place is shushed? How can shaming enthusiastic, passionate people ever be worthwhile?
It was obvious both young women were moved as our interaction ended. This touched me deeply. Please forgive your old dog Dad, sweetheart. Learning a new trick to replace this habit is probably not in the cards.
I love it! In grad school a friend once commented that I was the most enthusiastic person he had ever met. Not sure if that was a compliment or a criticism. It isn't the same thing as what you describe but similar. We are what we are!
ReplyDeleteInes; Thanks for the comment. Regardless of what the person in grad school meant by his/her remark to you, in my eyes and in the spirit of this post, I say live your life aloud with enthusiasm, energy, and passion. The world is a better place for it.
DeleteHello Pat. this post made me laugh. And not necessarily for the reason you might thank. Don;'t get me wrong .. I've been able to embarrass my kids on more than a few occasions. Not that I'm proud of it or go out of my way - well, maybe once or twice - but I've been known to do some tings over the years that would cause them to want to be able to be invisible. But, I laughed because of what I witnessed today. I stopped at a local DD on my way out earlier and while waiting in line an (older?) gentleman walked in with what I assumed were his daughter and granddaughter. He walked right over to the line I was standing in and went directly to some kids in line behind me and asked each one, one at a time, if they were younger than 12. If they said 'yes' he gave them a dollar. In front of these kids were some, I believe, teenaged kids that he went over to and started quizzing them on whose picture is on each US Bill denominations and would give each of them a dollar if they got it right. Then the fun started as he would ask if they knew who was on the $2.00 bill and made a, funny, big deal out of it while asking. The look on his daughters face was priceless and fit righting with the theme of todays blog post.
ReplyDeleteBe well,
Bob
Bob; Always pleased when I give anyone a laugh; thanks. Thanks more for sharing your DD anecdote; I want to meet that guy! And, in case my daughter happens to see your comment and this response, let me say this: See - sweetheart - your Dad is not the only one who engages strangers! So there, over and out.
DeleteYour story reminded me of one of my favorite memories with my own dad.
ReplyDeleteWe got tickets to the big football game when I was probably 8 or so. After taking our seats, with ease Dad struck up a conversation with the folks sitting beside us.
I remember leaning in sometime during the 2nd quarter and sheepishly asking, "How do you do that!?" He didnt understand what I meant at first. From nerves alone, I couldn't fathom striking up a conversation with a stranger, much less having anything to talk about!
As the clock was winding down while the home team prevailed, and Dad was cackling with his new found friend, I thought, 'my Dad is a damn superhero!!'
Dad could effortlessly do something I was so darn scared to do. It's one of my most cherished memories of my father. It's even more fun, later in life, catching myself doing the same thing in my own daughters presence.
Dad's are at their best wearing capes and your daughter is lucky that you never tried to take yours off! 🦸♂️
Bret; Thanks for digging so deep and sharing this wonderfully apt and personal anecdote with me and anyone else who reads it. It's good to see you here on the bell curve. I hope you'll return.
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