the smedley log - suburban scrawl

Life made monkeys of us all

“How can you forget this feeling
of standing straight while the world is reeling?”
- Better than Ezra

When I was a young man, I worked in a restaurant. Among my co-workers I had a reputation of being able to remain collected and calm in the face of the most difficult customers and situations. I only became aware of this reputation after the first time a few of my co-workers witnessed me being, shall we say, slightly less than graceful.

One of my colleagues approached me on a lunch break and told me how shocked everyone was by my lack of composure. Given that I hadn’t really lost my cool in a way comparable to the spectacles put on by other employees, I wondered aloud why she found it so shocking.

She informed me that everyone had gotten used to the way I seemed to handle everything without taking it out on other people. She told me that when other employees would successfully deal with a difficult patron without an outward loss of decorum, they’d often say that employee had “pulled a Howard.”

I was simultaneously flattered and disheartened by this exchange. I was flattered, because “pulling a Howard” meant something other than accidentally burning down the restaurant while trying to light the pilot on the grill. I was disheartened because I sensed I had shattered an illusion others had about me that caused them to admire me in some way.

To be fair, pulling a proverbial Howard can be stressful, but it is a skill I’ve had to use in many different situations throughout my life, some professional, others much more personal. It’s earned me the respect of my professional superiors on many occasions, and it’s helped me to deal more effectively with a variety of personal trauma as well. The flip side is that if relied on too heavily, it can also adds to the strain of a situation.

While I’ve thrived on the reputation for weathering difficult situations gracefully, I’ve also faltered countless times. I’ve been less than graceful in situations where people I care about really could have benefited from my continued strength. (This is part of what I alluded to in an earlier post when I wrote about tables being turned.)

Realizing that some situations have gotten beyond my grasp has made me feel as if the one skill I’ve always treasured having (and others have counted on me using) has been slipping from my repertoire. And I suspect it has a lot to do with not recognizing ahead of time the storms I would have been better off not weathering on my own.

“…not recognizing ahead of time the storms I would have been better off not weathering on my own.”

I remember a counseling session that my ex-wife and I had after she left. The counselor asked each of us who we turned to. She went home to her parents and family and I stayed home and dealt with it myself.
The counselor was incredulous. “Yourself?”, she exclaimed, slightly amazed that I was able to internalize the situation and deal with it without ‘talking it out’ with friends or whomever.

Maybe that’s “pulling an Anthony”? Now, however, with multiple issues going on, I would prefer to have that trusted ‘rock’ to lean on, but alas, I am left once again to deal.
I have always had to rely on myself to work through tough (and easy) times. Generally, there is little choice, but on those occasions when a trusted ear would be comforting, that is a skill that I have never acquired.

I think a part of why I learned to keep things inside was a certain loneliness I felt growing up. It wasn’t that I was necessarily alone, but I often felt that way. Like any double-edged sword, the skill comes in handy when it doesn’t just get in the way