Tuesday, October 14, 2008

What We Have Here Is a Failure to Communicate

It occurs to me that if someone whom you address with a title other than their birth name, except on your blog, where you embellish their given name with an adjective that is not accurate, but still conveys the largeness of their role in your life; If this certain someone is perhaps the same person that married your father, and gave birth to your rat -faced brother, a person who, in this case, shall remain nameless, because this is, after all, a public forum, and matters such as these should indeed be discussed privately, (which I know because the woman who raised me has impeccable manners. She also has a low tolerance for public embarrassment, which I cannot say I blame her for, because I am sure this was a side effect, a post-traumatic stress symptom, so to speak, of having been the unfortunate soul who was charged with the responsibility of being one of my parents. I will not say which one.) If that person has body parts surgically removed, even if said body parts are somewhat extemporaneous, insignificant parts that in the end it was probably best to be rid of; if this persons fails to mention that she is several ounces lighter due to the fact that she has one less not-so-vital organ than she did last week, and the only reason you are aware of the fact that this person, who shall remain anonymous, was the recipient of an “ectomy” is because this particular individual has siblings who have no compunction about ratting out each other when the situation demands, which in this case it did... what we have here is a failure to communicate.

I would like to know if you would be upset or would you just be relieved that the afore mentioned person was not trying to sell a kidney on e-bay?

6 comments:

Chaffin Channel said...

tobi - Did I forget to mention a certain-someone's impending surgical activity? I just found out ... a week ago...

I definately think this lack of communication calls for Oprah, Jerry or Phil, or some other helpful individual - maybe even Judy - -I mean Judge Judy. :)

Connie said...

Everyone thinks that my living overseas means that I will completely crumble into dust upon receipt of anything other than glowingly good and positive news. Perhaps a certain someone did not tell you, for fear that you might tell me and other displaced persons, and the news would cause fragile expats world-wide to spontaneously implode? Or, am I just being selfishly paranoid again?

Simple Answer said...

Low tolerance for public embarrassment, impeccable manners...Do we have the same mother? Or maybe just the same healthy relationship with our mothers? I, too, have been relegated to the "need to know" basis. Apparently that means I have no need to know anything of any importance. Her bridge schedule, what she served at her latest luncheon, who she ran into at the store. These are the things that I need to know. When I asked her what medications she is currently taking as she scarfed down 10 pills a night while in France, she looked at me and informed me it was written down in her purse. End. Of. Discussion.

karey m. said...

surely not for fear that her bid-niz might end up for all to read...say...somewhere loads of people congregate...like...i don't know...right here.

probably there's a more sinister reason. {and i hope big judes feels better soon. xoxo.}

Old House Junkie said...

Tobi, I suppose various phrases have been tried by this titled person - such as "minor procedure", "didn't want you to worry", "embarrassed", or "ladies don't discuss" - without success at easing your upset over not knowing about this beforehand.

On the one hand this may seem like a lack of trust on the part of this 'Big' person. On the other hand it gives you carte blanche to keep certain aspects of your life completely private from the one who can't be named. . . . mixed blessing.

I vote for casting it in the best light possible and then letting it go. ohj

Tobi said...

"OK, so I didn't get around to telling you I am minus my gallbladder. It was not that big a deal. The gallbladder attack was a little less fun. I did, however, lose 10lbs in a week."

Do you SEE what I mean? This little snippet arrived in my mailbox as I was busy composing my public admonition. Apparently, emergency surgery is a fabulous weight loss plan. Who knew?

I think I need to make a trip to Kansas. I want to see for myself that she has not gotten her nose pierced. Clearly, I would be the last to know.