Life’s questions can often cause linguistic conflicts. Choose responses carefully.
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It’s a typical morning. They sit around having coffee, reading. She glances up as if heaven is speaking. The look portends trouble for him.
“Honey, will you do me a favor today?”
He hides behind the sports section pretending not to hear. The ploy has worked before; maybe he’ll get lucky today. He says nothing.
The question hangs heavy in the silence.
“Sweetie, did you hear me?”
“Uh, sorry, what did you say?”
His weak voice quivers in a thinly-veiled attempt to feign deafness. Doesn’t work. Never has. Never will. A response is required. He wiggles in the trap.
She repeats the question with emphasis.
His mind spins in wild gyrations for an answer. Three choices appear: Yes, No, Maybe. He contemplates the options while the consequences of the choices crawl slowly by.
It’s a simple question. Yet today, it upsets his plans. He bites his tongue. Which answer will get him off the hook this time?
“Maybe,” he says, a timid knee-jerk reply.
“Maybe? What does that mean?” she asks.
Oops, he’s backed into a corner. How can ‘Maybe’ be explained, he wonders. It’s his go-to secret weapon, the best straddle-the-fence escape word in the language. It’s a favorite of lawyers, politicians and charlatans.
He considers answering with ‘Probably.’ But unlike ‘Maybe,’ the word will not extricate him from this tight spot, nor will it buy breathing room to devise a credible plan of avoidance. Diversionary plans are critical to preserve self-esteem.
From previous experience, he knows that ‘Probably’ is a milquetoast response, a coward’s way out. Might as well go ahead, be a hero and bow to ‘Yes’ and be done with it. Besides, ‘Probably’ concedes that any response will always be in the affirmative ~ not if, but when. No exit here.
“It’s a small favor. Pretty please?” she intones.
Her kindness tightens the noose on his neck. “I’m thinking, I’m thinking,” he says. He feels like a camel trying to crawl through the eye of a needle, a neat trick but tough to pull off.
He drifts along on a cloud of uncertainty and confusion for what seems like an eternity. His thoughts are fugitive. He considers a simple ‘No’ response, just blurt it out, prepare for the worst. He’s conflicted and dances around it. His nerves twist up in knots.
He has good reason to avoid the ‘No’ response. ‘No’ is a bludgeon, a crude instrument of finality. Nobody likes to hear it. The consequences are unpleasant and tend to outweigh the benefits. ‘No’ is a harsh word, it frightens him. It reminds him of a judge’s gavel that pounds the desk and declares, “Lock him up, and throw away the key.”
He’s back to square one now. One option left: ‘Yes.’ It stands quietly in the shadows and waits. He considers saying it, but it won’t leave the tongue. It just dangles there, enjoying the battle. ‘Yes’ is the sound of defeat, the loser’s peace treaty of utter capitulation, of emasculated manhood.
“How about it, honey?” she says.
His dilemma grows. His conscience enters the turmoil. ‘Maybe’ is becoming impotent. The reed he’s leaning on gets weaker with each passing second. The old tricks, the tried and true avoidance schemes, all up in smoke.
‘Maybe’ begins to crumble, letter by letter, and finally collapses in bits and pieces. He stands alone, stark naked, his defense ripped and hanging in shards and tatters. ‘Maybe’ has failed him. He’s tangled in a Gordian knot of indecision.
She intuits his breakdown, and with surgical precision says, “You’re so sweet, I know you’ll do it.”
Her sword of kindness pierces his soul, the final coup de grace. The contest ends. Another ‘Maybe’ bites the dust.
Finally, he mumbles, “Ok, Ok.” His response is about as close to ‘Yes’ as he can get and maintain his masculinity.
But as soon as he says it, a strange sensation overwhelms him. He feels free again. Could ‘Yes’ be the key to unlock the cell that ‘Maybe‘ put him in? It’s worth considering, he concludes.
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You might want to know the question that triggered the conflict. It was a simple request: “Honey, will you wash the dog?”
Remember the admonition, “…how great a matter a little fire kindleth.” Responses…they’re linguistic matches.
Bud Hearn
March 31, 2017