Think about life’s little things
Distract yourself from fears about what Trump will do by worrying over smaller matters
These days, there’s a plethora of articles on how to cope in the age of Donald Trump. They suggest we take a break from the news, go for a walk, take deep breaths and so on.
My approach is different. Instead of worrying about whether the leader of the free world is bonkers, I’ve decided to fret about smaller things.
It’s a distraction tactic. And it’s working out fantastically well. By focusing on the wee aggravations in life, I find there’s no time to think about “what’s happening in Sweden” or whether Steve Bannon will be promoted to Most Supreme Being in the Universe.
Here’s what I choose to worry about instead: You can follow suit or simply select your own microproblems.
1. Am I keeping up with new music? Everyone wants to keep up with what’s happening in pop music. Otherwise, you’re the sad old guy who listens only to classic rock and says the new stuff “all sounds the same.”
Unfortunately, to me, much of the new stuff all sounds the same. These days, I mostly listen to The
Best of Supertramp over and over again. This affords me tremendous — almost excruciating — pleasure.
However, because I’m fearful of being perceived as a wheezy old podger, I roll up the windows at stoplights in case anyone hears
The Logical Song cranked up to 10.
2. Will deer attack me? In Victoria, the deer amble about the streets as if they own the place. And as everyone knows, controlling the transportation systems is the first step to municipal takeover.
My worry is, in their quest for interspecies domination, will there be some kind of a violent deer uprising? What if the deer yank us out of our cars and start pummelling us, like some kangaroo videos I saw on YouTube? If
that happens, we’re all sunk. 3. Does forgetting names herald dementia? I never remember names when introduced. I’m so excited to meet new people, my cognitive processes more or less shut down.
I’ve tried using mnemonic devices, such as “Blair with the greasy hair,” “Keith with the missing teeth,” and “Minnie who drinks too much ginnie.” But then I forget the mnemonic device, and end up saying to Keith: “Hey Ken … what’s the deal with your teeth?”
4. Will ingesting fistfuls of pug fur kill me? I distinctly remember asking the people who sold us our pug pup, Ollie, whether this breed sheds.
“Oh, not much,” they said. “A mere bagatelle.”
Well, that isn’t true, unless “bagatelle” means “hay bales of dog fur.” Our house is like a snowglobe, but instead of plastic snow, it’s floating pug hair. Each time upon leaving the house, I must run lint rollers over my entire body in the manner of someone being scanned with an airport security wand.
Not only that, the pug fur is showing up in weird places — tea cups, martini glasses and other places I cannot mention in a family newspaper.
5. How does my iPhone work? I don’t want to sound like a wheezy old podger (see item No. 1) but I’m still trying to figure out how my mobile works.
I’ve got some basics down, such as taking photos and listening to Supertramp when I go for a run. Calling a cab is no problem. However, the finer points of iPhone mastery still elude me.
For instance, I tried to phone my friend Steve. Unfortunately, the FaceTime button was somehow triggered. So our conversation was like this: Me: “Hello Steve.” Steve: “Hey, I can see your ear.
What are you doing?”
Me: “Hello Steve. I’m talking to you on an iPhone.”
Steve: “Yeah, but you’re using FaceTime. All I can see is your ear.” Me: “OK. Goodbye.” 6. How do you make small talk
at parties? I’m more or less fine talking to folk I already know. But talking to new people at parties is difficult.
How does one know what new people want to talk about? Will my sense of humour offend them? What if I don’t remember their names (see item No. 3)?
Me: “Hello. Do you like … stuff?”
New person: “I beg your pardon?”
Me: “I mean … uh, you like Supertramp?” New person: “What?” Me: “Goodbye Ginnie.” Next week: Do banana slices belong on pizzas?