Shovellers

A couple of days ago I was talking with a friend. We were discussing a mutual acquaintance. That acquaintance has for some unfathomable reason decided to live out his remaining days mad at the world, fighting with his neighbors and threatening legal action against the township. In short, said acquaintance has devolved into a bitchy old man.

Our discussion failed to yield any reasons for the bitchiness. The man in question has many things, he has property and money and he has grandchildren. But he’s almost always unhappy and perpetually in combat with someone or some entity he feels has wronged him.

No one has wronged him. So we were a bit mystified over why a person would choose to live in a cloud of anger and fabricated offence, when there were lots of other options. Eventually, I said to my friend, we can’t change the man, so let’s change the subject.

I’ve been thinking about changing the subject. I’ve been wondering if ignoring shitty behaviour is a better strategy then confronting shitty behaviour. I’ve been wondering if ignoring petulance and childishness is a strategy at all. I’ve been wondering if turning a blind eye to arseholes ends up empowering those arseholes to continue to behave like arseholes.

Complicated stuff.

I guess that any response depends on the individual. Some people have minimal capacity for putting up with horseshit and some people can endure barnfuls. There seems to be a personal measurement process that all of us use, and then we decide if a confrontation with a dickbag is worth the effort or not.

Imagine that every person has an invisible wagon that they tow around with them. As you make your way through this life some of your fellow travellers will add to your wagon and some people will take things from your wagon. Occasionally you get lucky and someone agrees to hitch their wagon to yours, and they share towing capacity and add companionship at the same time.

Then there’s the shit people. These people stand amidst a field of manure that they produced themselves, and they’re more than happy to shovel a pitchfork of their shit into your wagon.

So, back to where I started.

How much of the shit shoveling does a person endure? I think my tolerance level is below the national average. But, I’m very aware that my response to the shovellers needs to be planned if possible, and succinct even if unplanned. Any other response is in my opinion playing to the desires of the shovellers. I’m of the opinion that the shit sharers are only partially satisfied with unilateral shitting. What really makes them tingle is when they can draw someone into a shit shovelling contest. The contest invigorates the shovellers. They live for this shit.

There are intellectual and moral dilemma’s for me regarding the shovellers. I want these people to stop spewing their shit, but sometimes I’ll settle for them leaving me the fuck alone. Make them take their shit elsewhere so to speak. The problem with this strategy is that the reprieve you get from being left alone means that the shoveller is compelled to find someone else’s wagon to load their crap onto. The poop problem is then deflected onto someone else instead of being resolved. This deflection causes me to wonder if I’m abandoning the principal that an early confrontation can prevent a later much larger conflagration. The argument being, that once the shovellers are empowered and have accumulated an arsenal of meadow muffin missiles, that they can be dangerous and not just annoying.

Depends on how rank and toxic the shit is that they happen to be shovelling.

Ideally, I think that the shovellers should be confronted and challenged every time they load up their spade or pitchfork. They should be shamed and made to wallow in their own mess or clean their act the fuck up.

But these shovellers are hard to shame and so we’re all going to have to do our part to keep them under control. I’m not suggesting a fistfight or any kind of violence. What I am suggesting is that at a minimum, there is a responsibility on every citizen to at least point out that what they’re shovelling stinks.

I’ll try and do my best for the cause.

1 thought on “Shovellers”

  1. Perfectly written. I now by happenstance have a massive shit shoveler living beside me on an island of all places. As much as I hate him I have to feel some kind of empathy for someone so miserable with life. Too bad the old adage is so true, only the good die young.

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