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Tuesday, February 21, 2006

I was thinking about what I wrote the other day about being judgmental, and I think the reason I try not to be that way with others is that I judge myself so harshly. I have standards that I donít measure up to. Thereís an image I have of who I should be, and then thereís this shadowy sense of how badly I fall short. How can I criticize someone else for being less than perfect?

For some reason I have this built-in desire to make excuses for other people. Thatís because I like to assume that thereís no inherent malice in them, at least not in those I come into contact with. I want to think theyíre doing the best they can, so if something happens I donít like, my first thought is that someone is having a bad day (or a bad moment), not that theyíre trying to offend. If theyíre really evil and hurtful, Iíd know it by the pattern of their actions, not by a slip here and there.

Besides, none of us is at our absolute best every moment of every day. To be honest, weíre probably very seldom at our absolute best. So if I say something hurtful, Iíd hate to think it would ruin a friendship. Iíd like to believe that a real friend would chalk it up to a bad moment and give me another chance. (And then, if I need it, another one after that.) Thatís the kind of latitude Iíd give them, after all, if tables were turned.

18 February 2006

Cloud brush strokes.

Now obviously, this doesnít apply when Iím driving down the road and you cut me off. Thereís simply no excuse for bad driving, and anyone who gets in my way should be severely chastised and banished from the roadways until theyíve thought about what they did and promise never to do it again. Then weíll talk about forgiveness.

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There was no curling today! This was the day set aside for tie-breakers to get into the medal round, but there werenít any ties. But this gives me a chance to sing the praises of NBCís curling announcers, Don Chevrier and Don Duguid. They are so good that I would listen to them talk about bowling, if they brought the same knowledge and intelligence and respect for the game and respect for the audience to it. Itís like listening to two friends chatting about something they love. You canít help but love it, too. Iíve learned so much about curling, without anyone having to explain it. They just tell me what the see, and then I can see it as well. When the Olympics end, Iíll miss the sound of their voices almost as much as Iíll miss curling itself.

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