I was talking to Mister about this and that and he pointed out that sometimes it’s best to not know how the sausage is made.
If this sounds all willy-nilly, allow me to sort of explain. I am involved in various endeavors and groups, and work with folks to make things happen within those groups. For example, let’s say there’s a benefit being planned. I may work behind the scenes to help pull off the event. Hopefully it will be successful. Hopefully those attending said event will experience a smooth, entertaining and maybe even enlightening gathering. You know what I mean. When we go to things, we want to be there and have a good time. Nothing more and certainly nothing less.
But when you’re working to put on such an event, you see the gears and the work and the energy, turning behind the curtain. No one else is supposed to see all that, and when an event is successful, no one does. Those times are great! And as a worker bee, you don’t mind what goes into such events, as long as the outcome is positive. Mostly.
But! What if you’re doing your part behind the scenes, and you find out the goings-on are less than kosher. What do you do then? It happens. A lot. And I guess each individual is tasked with determining her or his feelings and limitations in those moments. I remember working a benefit to raise money for victims of Hurricane Katrina. I witnessed – with my own 2 eyes – the parking attendants skimming funds earmarked for the charity. I was livid and very nearly blew a gasket. (I found someone in charge, lost my shit while telling them what was going on and the matter was swiftly dealt with.) I’ve encountered other ugliness on the charity front, too. And each time, I’ve spoken up. That was what I had to do in the moment, in order to be able to sleep at night. You don’t steal from charity, y’all. Period.
So back to the sausage at hand… I’ve now glimpsed behind a new-to-me curtain, and I have to say – it was cooler to just be an attendee where that curtain hangs. Because even though a great number of decent souls work toward a common good, one asshole can really cast a pall on a scene. And that is, for the moment, the case with this particular sausage factory. But I’m holding out faith. So far. The good folks are the ones I associate with and they’re the ones I like and respect. Ugliness will always exist, and as far as I’m concerned, it can do a damn jig on a chair in the middle of the room. I don’t have to pay it any heed. I certainly don’t respect it. At my very best, I can muster up some pity for the perpetrators of ugliness. Those folks must surely be miserable and lonely. They certainly seem unhappy. It’s a vicious cycle, really. You feel unworthy, so you act unworthy. You feel unloved, so you don’t love. Yes – at my very best, I feel sympathy for the people who just don’t understand that you don’t have to be ugly to accomplish things in this world.
But that’s my very best. And that side of me seems to be taking a nap right now, because I am thinking those ugly ding-dongs could use a swift kick in the lady balls. But you know what? They’re not worth my time. Sadly, they probably don’t feel like they’re worth much even to themselves. It’s a vicious cycle.