Friday, May 27, 2011

Too wise for your own good

Wisdom can be a pain

You wanna know the truth, a little bit wisdom can make your life miserable. Too much of it can be excruciating. Me, I’ve got just enough to make me cranky.

This morning I was drinking my coffee while reading the newspaper. Next to bedtime it’s the best part of my day. So, all’s right with my corner of the world until Kay gets up from the table and announces that she’s going to make some Creamy Italian salad dressing.

I have no idea where that came from. She could’ve said “I’m going to go dig for grubs” and it would’ve made as much sense to me. But, I didn’t comment. Not immediately. I thought things over for a few seconds. It’s the wise thing to do.

While pondering, I remembered how upset Kay was when we first learned that Seven Seas quit making Creamy Italian dressing. Kay always used Seven Seas brand for her much heralded cole slaw. She had many heralders of that stuff.

When Seven Seas baled on Creamy Italian, Kay tried every other brand on the market. Her cole slaw (pronounced “
cold slaw”) just never turned out right. After about three seconds I had landed on the why of her impractical, doomed-to-fail attempt at making salad dressing at 8:30 in the morning. It was now safe to comment.

Ease into it, my voice of wisdom suggested. “So, you’re planning to make some cole slaw?” I said. Kay said, No. She just wanted to make some Creamy Italian. That info weighed in heavy. Kay only used Creamy Italian for “
cold” slaw, yet she wasn’t planning to make any. She just had a lark to make Creamy Italian.

“Keep your mouth shut!” That’s what the wise part of my brain screamed. It’s no big de
al. The Mississippi River is flooding, the price of gasoline is obscene, and there are riots in Syria. Don’t mess with the salad dressing bomb. “Pick your fights. This is a little thing.” I said nothing.

The first batch came out too sweet. I could discern no sugar at all in the Seven Seas brand. “Do you think I should try again?” she asked. “Yes! Of course!” Is what I should’ve said. But I didn’t. Wisdom was elbowed aside by the testy part of my brain. “I don’t think you should’ve tried the first batch,” is what came out of my mouth.


The kitchen got silent. Negative sound coming from there. “Quick, regroup! Regroup!” wisdom screamed. “Uh, you know, what I’d do?” I said. “I’d make another batch, and put no sugar in this one and then mix the two together.” I thought it Solomonesque.


Kay thought it a good idea. Brilliant, even. So she did as I suggested and ended up with a dressing t
hat was still too sweet. “So, what do you think?” Before my brain could scream anything, my mouth immediately shot out, “Hokey Smokes, woman! Cut your loses and stop the madness!” Then I started shaking and wheezing. After about two minutes, Kay handed me a paper bag to breathe in.

I just hate episodes like that. The moment Kay mentioned the salad dressing, I knew it was wrong. I can just see things that other people don’t. Yet, what does it get me? Heartache! When I see somebody doing something stup—uh, unwise, I feel bad if I don’t say anything and bad if I do. By the way, I thought she took way too much time handing me the paper bag.


Life would be so much easier for me if my wisdom index was just a whole lot lower. But, no, I’m stuck with what I’ve got. And, what I’ve got has upset not only Kay, but most of my friends and all of my fa
mily members. “I wouldn’t do it that way.“ or “You know you’re opening that jar wrong, don’t you?” Or “By all means, if you want to wait in line for a couple hours, let’s go eat there.”

People have very little patience with the wise. One can only imagine what Solomon had to put up with. For those of you who attended Sunday school at one time or other, you may remember that it was mentioned that there was no one before nor would there be anyone after Solomon who would be as wise.


It must’ve been terrible for him. And, to make it worse, do you know how many wives he had? He had 700 wives and 300 concubines. I imagine that after your fortieth or so wife, the line between a wife and concubine becomes somewhat blurred.


Here’s the wisest man there ever was or ever will be, and he’s got 700 to 1000 wives. Oh, the horror.


“My Lord, Barinna would like to see you.” -- “Barinna?’ – “She’s one of your wives.” – “You’re gonna hafta do better than that. – “She’s one of your 38 Hittite wives. Green hair, tattoo on her left shoulder, gripes all the time…” – “Oh, yeah. Tell her to go ahead and make the salad dressing. Make a pool full of salad dressing. But, she’s sadly mistaken if she thinks it will match the
Queen of Sheba’s vinaigrette. Oh, and don’t tell her the last part. What else?”

“Let’s see, Orpah, your 468th child would like to date Noadite the Edomite.” – “Seriously? Has she even heard the jokes going around about the Edomites? Forget it. Tell her I’m cool with it, and don’t ever bring stuff like this to me again. Next?”

See what I’m sayin’? Wisdom can be a real pain. So much so that many people would just as soon you not share yours. They want you to share your love, time, money… But, wisdom? Pretty much keep it to yourself. I’m just saying.


END

To see Mark and Brad’s review of Brio Tuscan Grille, click below.

1 comment:

  1. I have the same dang problem. Always spouting my wisdom, when I should keep it to myself.

    ReplyDelete