Bless their hearts

You ever think someone is listening to you more intent on responding than in understanding what you are saying? I highly suspect you have. I think this may happen even more often when you post on Facebook (or, I guess, any other social medium) than in direct conversation. You know, those comments that make you want to ask, “Did you really read the post?”

Mixed in with a lot of good discussion, I see many comments that seem to miss the point, either by chance or choice. Sometimes the repliers are pushing their own agendas, picking up on some tangential word or phrase to change the discussion’s direction. Some people’s agenda is to show how intelligent they (think they) are, such spelling out what is implied – usually intentionally for effect – in the post. For example, regarding some list of “100 things you should do before you die,” I said I planned to do 99 of them and let it go at that. I thought it was more amusing, if not also impactful that way. Still, someone felt a need to comment, “So that you won’t die.” Or, making an obvious allusion to a familiar poem or song and having someone feel a need to give the title.

At times, there are those who just want to present themselves as real wits (and usually they are half right). Some individuals apparently just like to troll their friends, an online version of trash talking, which many people enjoy though many others find annoying. (I’m in the latter group.)

One missed-point situation that comes to mind is a time I posted that AT&T had sent me a letter – yet again – congratulating me on being such a good customer that they would allow me to spend even more money with them. I thought people would appreciate the humor and that many would’ve had similar experiences. Yet, because I mentioned that the letter went directly into recycling, some people chose to discuss junk mail, rather than lame marketing.

Some comments are real head-scratchers. One time when I posted a group of photos clearly labeled “Trip to New York,” I included on I took in the subway. One comment was, “Boston? NY?” Similarly, when I’m at the beach, I post photos of each day’s sunrise. I begin as much as an hour before the sun appears to give a taste of that day’s “show.” I captioned one such photo of the color in the dawn sky, “Less than 19 minutes to go,” drawing the comment, “Until?” Another person seemed oblivious to my regular posting of sunrise photos at the beach by commenting, “Couldn’t sleep?” To which I replied, “Could. Didn’t want to.”

On someone else’s post about the University of South Carolina’s trying to highjack the name “Carolina,” I commented that UNC was here first. Since all the people in the conversation were UNC alums, I phrased it, “We’ve been Carolina since 1789.” Someone somehow apparently chose to read it that I was saying my ancestors had been in NC that long, even though family genealogy was certainly not what we were discussing. They said I was “late to the party,” noting that their antecedents landed in NC before 1789 (though not before mine, in fact, migrated here from England and Germany). Scratching my head was the only appropriate reaction to that one.

I have shared my system for making money off the lottery. I don’t buy tickets but invest the money I would have spent (wasted) on them. I have given a couple of updates over the years, letting people know how well I continue to fare. The first time I presented this system, someone commented that they had rarely played. Thus, they concluded, “I am more than likely way ahead of you in my unspendings.” I scratched my head, then noted that can be true only if “rarely” means “less often than never.”

Maybe sometimes some people have trouble giving me enough credit. There was the time I went to lunch with part of a group of friends. Because some in the group were unable to be there, I entered the restaurant along with four or five females. The person showing us to our table asked me, “How do you rate all these women?” In a rare moment in which I didn’t have to wait a day or two to come up with the best response, I said, “10.”

It was a sincere, comprehensive evaluation, appreciated by members of the group. Yet several comments were along the lines of “smart” and “diplomatic.” Did they think I didn’t mean it? Did they think I say things just to say them? Maybe so, because maybe they themselves are prone to say things just to say them.

Sometimes, people may miss the point and/or insert their own agendas with good intentions. I shared a post encouraging people to support Western North Carolina businesses, recovering from Hurricane Helene, by buying Christmas gifts from them. One commentor changed the topic to giving money to individuals, which they were doing. I explained my point further: “This post is about helping restore businesses in WNC. As long as we’re Christmas shopping anyway, why not spend some of that money with them?” I added, “I would hope everyone who can has already donated or is donating directly to individuals affected and/or organizations in place to handle those donations.”

Other times, it seems they just want to troll.

Since the TV series “Downton Abbey” first appeared on PBS’s Masterpiece Theatre, I’ve been continually amused at how often individuals add a second “w” and make it an abbey that is “downtown,” as opposed to somewhere else. To satirize this, I posted that my wife (Nancy Tannenbaum) and I were considering naming our home “Bectown Abbey.” (Note the extraneous “w” added to my last name. ) One wag commented, “Tannenton Abbey’ has a nicer ring,” leaving me to counter, “It does ring but hardly works as the intended satire.”

Sometimes, it’s difficult to tell if they are just trying to troll or if they, for whatever reason, just can’t understand.

Such as the time I posted that, despite what some nice people living in great states north of here seem to think about our road crews’ abilities, recent snow and ice had been promptly removed. Yet, one of those nice people asked, “Do you need our help?” After considering several possible retorts, I went with, “Help? Well, I do need to change a bulb in a recessed fixture in our 12-foot kitchen ceiling. I could use someone to steady the ladder.”

I wouldn’t be surprised if you, too, have had ample occasions to scratch your own head when seeing some individuals’ comments to things you’ve posted.

Here’s another for me:

A few years ago, I posted a photo of newspaper story about a baseball game. The headline was, “Rocky Pitcher Horror Show,” a play on the name of one of my favorite movies. I explained, “Of all the sports I don’t follow, baseball is high on the list, but I appreciate a good headline.”

A fan of the team to whom this happened felt a need to comment, “Temporary glitch.” So, I explained again: “The post is about the headline. I assume
your comment is on the game. I have little knowledge and no opinion on that. I just like how the headline writer handled it.

I’ve been trying harder to be more specific in my posts and to explain further in comments when it’s still not clear. I’ve said things such as, “Maybe another of my characteristic subtle posts. If you don’t get it, just scroll on by. If you do get it, you don’t have to show off by finishing the sentence or otherwise explaining.” Yet I later had to reply to my own comment: “Some apparently missed the last sentence of this comment. 😀”

I could go on: My post about phishing scams in which I said that after receiving a notice (not from Amazon) that my account had been locked, I went directly to my account and placed an order. Yet someone said, “Are you saying you placed an order through a fake site?” (I replied, “No, that wouldn’t make any sense.”)

OR, the humorous post about inferiority complexes that someone turned into a discussion of problems with aging. Or a discussion of teams in the World Series, in which someone opined that their favorite Triple A team was among the best. (OK, well, maybe better than some MLB teams, but not likely one that made the Series.)

I’ll stop going on here, though I have enough examples in my notes for two more blog posts. I’m certain you get the idea and could likely offer an abundance of examples from your own experience.

Translations

A song I’ve enjoyed since my adolescence, when I followed and tried to emulate Rick Nelson, asserts, “I believe what you say when you say . . . .” It’s a positive idea that, as you know, doesn’t apply in all situations. When some people say some things, believing them may not be the best choice.

While mulling over this idea recently, I happened upon and read an article in American Scholar (Winter 2005), “Granaries of Language,” by Ilan Stavans. Among many other interesting things, the article talks about how meanings of words develop, are codified and sometimes evolve. (Quite a few words were made up by great writers.)

Being as devoted to words these days as I was to early rock and roll back in the day (full disclosure: I still am), I was drawn to an article about the dictionary.

I’m not about to try to write my own dictionary (or encyclopedia or glossary, the differences being mirky, the referenced article notes), but reading the article did lead me to write about some definitions of a few words and phrases in common use today. We’ve all heard them since before the days of social media, but now all the online chatter makes them almost impossible to avoid.

There are many from which to choose. Here’s a sample.

The word “nobody” often means “I.” And often enough so does “everybody.” You’ve likely heard someone express their own personal negative sentiments, “Nobody likes/thinks/wants to/does thus-and-so.” One also might hear similar acclamations with “everybody.”

Perhaps they think it adds credibility to their opinions if they claim the whole world agrees with them.

“Only in [name of place]” means “is so typical of [name of place.]” It is likely that whatever it is happens other places as well. In fact, people in those places may sometimes say “only in [our local.]”

“I hate to tell you” generally means “I am enjoying telling you.” It could be that prefacing the remark this way may even increase their enjoyment of saying it. I.e., “twisting the knife.”

Closely related is “just saying.” It means, “I’m pretty sure I just put you in your place.”
This one is enhanced by irony, because the speaker is, in fact, doing more than “just saying.” They think they have enlightened you on some important matter and done so eruditely.

Conversely, there’s “you’re right.” Well, not so converse, because it means, “I share that opinion.” Or, “Good for you for agreeing with what I think.”

This is not far removed from “I’m sure.” This can often enough be taken literally. They read it in a reliable source, witnessed it, experienced it first-hand or have similar valid reasons. Yet sometimes a grain or two of salt may be needed when we hear “I’m sure.” It can also mean “I imagine” or “I want to believe.”

You know what? I’m going to go out on a bit of a tangent to wrap up. No, you didn’t know. I didn’t think you did. “You know what?” doesn’t need translating as do the words noted above, but it deserves a comment in this discussion. It’s a way to introduce a new thought when, for some reason, one can’t merely say it straightaway.

Maybe there’s awkwardness involved. I recall an instance when the wrong song was played at a family pool party, and the person in charge tried to cover their embarrassment with an explanation that began, “You know what?”

Sometimes the phrase may be intended to soften the blow of a shocking idea. Or perhaps it’s used to give a mundane idea more gravity.

I fully admit I am doing more than “just saying” these things. I’m venting but also hoping some people might enjoy reading what I had to say. I don’t think “everyone” will, though I don’t know for certain. I wish I could say I’m “sure” that “nobody” will dislike it.

My like-dislike relationship with social media

Facebook is the only social medium in which I participate, unless you count group texts. I suspect that many of these thoughts, though, might apply to other forms of social media. Most do apply to group texts, as well as communication (or attempted communication) in general.

There are things I like about Facebook: being in touch with long-time friends; photos of kids, grandkids, nature, meals; inspirational posts; genuinely educational posts. I also appreciate being able to vent.

Here I want to vent about comments I don’t like to see on Facebook, whether in response to one of my posts or those of others, as well as to others’ responses. These comments fall into two categories: non sequiturs and trolling.

A common cause of a non sequitur is that the person responding didn’t really read the post (or previous comments) first. In this category are those comments that miss the point of the post. The commenter may pick up on a minor element or even a phrase not on-point and change the focus of the conversation. At the extreme are those who hijack the post, making it about them or their own agenda.

While there are “professional” trolls intruding on almost all public pages, I’m bothered more by trolling by friends. Some individuals enjoy playing “gotcha” and engaging in trash talk. At some point, though, “kidding” can become annoying, if not hurtful, because of intensity or frequency. Closely related: making the conversation into a competition and seeking to one-up the poster or another commenter.

Trolling also can include value judgments of another’s personal likes/dislikes, “witty” comments that get only halfway there, feeling a need to explain an implied joke, dedication to “yes-but” responses and proclivity for putting a negative spin on a positive post.