My Own Sense of Self-Defecation

Posted: April 2, 2014 in Tim Braun
Tags: , , , , , ,

I only typed that to see if anyone actually paid attention to the titles of blogs. I always found it fascinating that two phrases like self-defecating and self-deprecating were so close together, both in sound, in spelling, and in some sort of weird way – in meaning. My humor is very rarely directed outward at others. Sure, my DISDAIN is normally directed outwards, but my humor normally is directed totally inwards and makes fun of the person that deserves it most – me.

So why the soliloquy about how stupid I am? Because in the last week I’ve determined that on no less than three occasions I feel I have deserved hands_wide_openmore. More what, you may ask? More of the ever-loving gratitude. I deserved more gratitude than I got in three separate and distinct incidents that I will play out right now before your very eyes.

Why is this self-deprecating? Because I know I’m an idiot to think I deserve more gratitude in ANY of these cases. Could I please just grow up? Yet somewhere – not so deep in my mind – I just stand there with my hands held out wide, waiting for the praise to lavish all over me like a cold rain shower on a hot August night. And in these examples, it was a drought.

Example 1

I like charity work. I’m all for charity work – one of my friends was once even NAMED Charity. Our church recently gathered a lot of items for a local charity. Pillow cases, toys, toiletries, everything. There were about six large bags full of charity stuff. I was sure that I would walk into the orphanage, or homeless shelter, or apple barn, or whatever it was, and be lauded like Genghis Khan walking through the streets of Mongolia. I get to the assigned address, and it’s an Insurance dealer. That’s right – it was just a drop off! THEY were the ones who would get to see the joy of the little tater tots enjoying their new toys. We walked in, dropped the bags in a corner, and the receptionist calmly said, “I’ll let my boss know that there’s more stuff….” My wife, ever the professional, said thank you and began to leave. Me? I stood there with my hands open wide – waiting for the storm that never came. Crestfallen, even. Not a shred of gratitude.

Example 2

sailingI bought an app on my iPad a couple of months ago – a sailing app where you diddle the little boat all around buoys and everything and try to beat the ‘gold’ time. Well, 35 levels of wind-whipped fun later I was gold in EVERY race except for the last one. Surely there would be a grandiose prize for finishing all 36 levels in gold time! Maybe another free app! Maybe even a name on the Sailing App Hall of Fame?!?!? I dutifully diddled and boom….gold on race 36. I finished, pumped my fist (much to the chagrin AND consternation of the other people waiting in the doctor’s office with me) and waited for the glory to come to me.

I’m still waiting. Not a single proton, neutron, atom, or molecule moved in the game. It was as if the very life was sucked out of me. No congratulations of any kind….no recognition. Not even a free fake coin. The app has now been deleted.

Example 3

Had to change a car battery the other day. I say that in a manly way to let everyone know that I can do things like that with cars. I mean sure – I change the battery even if a tire goes bad, just because that’s all I can do, but still – my fingers came out of it grimy and grbatterieseasy. Like a man.

Anyway – so what to do with the old battery? I noticed that Walmart had free battery recycling when I bought the new one there. So did I take the old battery out in the woods behind our house and bury it like I normally would have done? No. I steadfastly stood up for my American recycling rights and drove ALL the way to Walmart, carried the battery in my grimy, sweat-soaked hands all the way in to their service counter, and dropped the 50-pound battery on the counter. The clerk there looked at me like I had just worn a Target smock into their store. I said, “I’d like to recycle this please”. She gave me a sideways glance and as only Walmart workers can – hitched her head at an angle and said “Fsa vvdska” (which I quickly translated as “Over there…”). I dropped the battery in a shopping cart full of other old, dirty batteries and walked away. Again – without nary a drop of gratitude gracing my forehead.

So that’s it. Just this week I’ve saved the planet, I’ve helped the homeless, and I’ve finished a video game. Gratitude-less. If any of you have a heart, please leave a comment letting me know I’m appreciated. Because I’m about to self-defecate all over myself waiting for it.

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Comments
  1. Carrie Rubin says:

    You ARE appreciated. I have ordered an immediate parade to your location. There will be trumpets; there will be bass drums; there will be candy, the wrappers of which you’ll be happy to clean up, with no expectation of a thank you. Because that’s the kind of guy you are.

    But in all seriousness, it IS pretty cool that you helped gather items for the needy and recycled your battery. Most people wouldn’t. The video game? Well, you’re on your own with that one…

    Like

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