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Oil and Vinegar

March 14, 2018

During the Opening Ceremony of the Olympics my husband remarked, “See, that American girl?  That’s Erin Hamlin, the four-time Olympic loser.”


“At least she tried!” I said in her defense.


He looked at me strangely, but that’s not in and of itself strange. 


“Erin Hamlin is a four-time Olympic winner,” he said.


“Make up your mind.”


“She medaled four times in the luge.  She’s a luger.”  He explained.


Oh, got it.  Kind of a big difference there.


I often wonder how many times we misunderstand each other, and I’m not just talking about our marriage. I know there are some colossal differences that are impossible to bridge.  Oil and vinegar, Israel and Palestine, Democrats and Republicans, Protestants and Catholics.  Of course, there are always a few exceptions.  When making a salad for example, oil and vinegar get along swimmingly, if only for a short time.  I’ve been to both Israel and Palestine and I know there are remarkable people on both sides of the isle that sometimes play nice.  Not sure I can say that about politics.  Religion is tricky but tolerance is an option—or conversion.


Generally speaking there’s a lot of miscommunication out there.  I have a few well-thought-out ideas to help people communiqué better, thus making the world a better place for everyone.


Let's take a look for example, at the extreme dog person and a passionate cat person.  The obvious solution to gracious pet-relationships is to own, understand and love them both.  I do and look how pleasantly affable I am.  That solved, we need to deal with those cantankerous folks who don’t like either.  My shrink told me about a method called flooding.  It’s where you take an unwanted behavior and immerse yourself in it.  Say, for example you obsess about germs between the tines of a fork.  You not only force yourself to eat with it but you drop it on the bathroom floor a bunch of times until wah-la! you’re cured.  Don’t presume I’m talking about myself, it’s some other whack job—but the principle here is sound.  Diving into a room full of pit-bulls and alley-cats could be just the thing to turn a fierce animal hater into a true animal lover.  Or not.  (Some people are so set in their ways nothing can budge them from their point of view.)


Let’s try another.  I know.  Never Trump-ers and Trump Forever-ers.  Getting those people in a room together would be like… well, Congressmen and Senators.  How about letting the President get on with his duties.  Forget the finger-pointing and worry about issues that will better our nation instead of obsessing about your next election?  I know that’s about as realistic as my example of turning animal haters into lovers.  I can’t imagine anything scarier than diving into a room full of White House bitches and pussies.  Talk about oil and vinegar—mixing Chuck and Nancy, Paul and Mitch into a dressing would poison a salad. 


So are you ready for a real solution?  Drum roll please…

If they can't get along like true Olympians, send em down the luge.




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