Does anyone remember “Hello Dolly”?
Fantastic musical score?
KILLER gold dress?
There’s a line in that film that frequently pops into my head during inappropriate moments: “Money, pardon the expression, is like manure. It’s not worth a thing unless it’s spread around, encouraging young things to grow.”
That’s a great line, particularly since you can replace “money” with so many other concepts, like “book learning” or “a good car mechanic.”
You know what else is like manure?
Opinions can be useful, when in the proper place… and rude, obnoxious, or spiteful opinions are like manure inside in your kitchen.
You don’t really want manure in your kitchen for obvious reasons that we don’t have to get into here because we’re above talking about such things en public… and, likewise, we really don’t want people wielding their opinions in an odious manner, do we?
You are at liberty to express your opinions, no matter how dissenting those opinions might be, but there are appropriate arenas and ways to express such thoughts.
If done properly in the proper forum, we can all agree to disagree.
If done improperly, communication breaks down into hair pulling and eyeball poking and manure throwing.
Two radio stations in my listening area started playing Christmas music: one on Halloween day, the other over this past weekend.
You would have thought that both stations had played profanity laden screamo zitar music, for all the ill-mannered uproar.
Let’s just say that there was an abundance of manure in inappropriate places.
Now, I happen to love both Christmas and Christmas music anytime of the year.
I also have friends who absolutely despise Christmas music. I have other friends who like Christmas music just fine, as long as they don’t hear it before Black Friday.
How on EARTH do we manage?!
I mean, friends actually disagreeing?! Groups of people NOT liking the same things?!?!
HOW CAN THAT BE ALLOWED?!?!?
WHAT IS THIS WITCHCRAFT?!?!?
Well, there’s a trick to it.
It’s a fancy, complicated, Jedi mind trick called, “We’re adults, and we don’t all have to do or like the same things in order to be polite and respect each other’s choices.”
We’re not talking about torturing animals here, people.
We’re talking about a musical genre.
No one has the moral high ground, no one’s immortal soul is riding on this, and the state of the union does not hinge on whether or not X-radio station plays “Jingle Bells” early.
I understand that some people don’t want to hear it.
It’s a preference.
My preference is that I would have never, ever, EVER had my ears bloodied by Robin Thicke’s “Blurred Lines.”
I dislike that song.
By dislike, I mean I loathe it with a soul-crushing passion… but I’m not pulling on my fight pickin’ gloves to take the world to task for enjoying something that I don’t.
If it comes on the radio in my friend’s car and she turns it up, I’m not going to lunge for the wheel and drive us over a cliff like Thelma and Louise. I’m not going to punch her in the neck or spit in her eye. I’m not going to verbally tear her asunder and draw illogical conclusions about the type of person she must be if she knows all the words. I’m not even going to graffiti her Facebook wall and rally like-minded people to my cause.
Because she gets to have an opinion, and my opinion, shared in that moment, would not necessarily be welcome or beneficial, and opinions that aren’t beneficial are like manure on granite counter tops.
This happens every year.
As soon as the world hears the opening bars of “White Christmas”, there’s a full on Montague/Capulet blood feud, and it makes me crazy, because instead of fighting about important things, we’re wasting our words and energies on which (completely arbitrary) date in the Gregorian calendar should signal the advent of Christmas music.
Is that really worth fighting about?
Do we actually care about this?
If you prefer your Christmas music after Thanksgiving, that’s fine.
You eat what you like, okay?
I’ll listen to what makes me happy, and you do the same.
No one has to die.
Just this once, I’d like to get through the most wonderful time of the year without having to hear endless bickering about who stepped on whose musically privileged toes.
Can’t we all just play nice this year?
Keep the manure in its place?