Nice Guy Syndrome

This used to more or less be my strategy for getting girls:

It’s not a perfect example, because my approach was, I like to think, rather less sinister and Stockholm Syndrome-y, but as in the comic, I figured that if the object of my affection (phrase chosen advisedly) just got to know what a nice guy I was, of course they’d fall for me eventually.  How could they not?  I’m such a nice guy.  Who wouldn’t want me?

Remarkably, it didn’t ever work.    I’m sure you’re all shocked. 

But then again, being bad at small talk and romance in general, I didn’t exactly feel like I had a plethora of options before me (whether or not I actually did), and this is certainly the path of least resistance.  Who doesn’t like the path of least resistance?  It works for electricity, why shouldn’t it work for the rest of us?  It's just not fair!

 

Anyways, when it inevitably failed, out came the standard line about girls supposedly wanting nice guys.  XKCD has a nice summation of that, too (yes, I really like XKCD.  Why do you ask?):

Because, of course, just being a nice guy has absolutely nothing to do with common interests, chemistry, or any of the other things that actually have anything to do with the connections required for an actual relationship.

Ultimately, it’s really an entitlement issue.  I think I’m a great guy; I’m certainly better than a lot of the other guys out there, right?  So therefore don’t I deserve what I want? 

The answer, of course, is no.  (Just in case that needed clarification.)  Being a nice guy doesn’t entitle you to squat, nor should it.  But it’s a comforting line to feed yourself.  Certainly beats the alternative, anyways.  (At least until you consider some of the implications contained within it.)

I think I’m fortunate, in some respects (well, in a lot of respects, but we'll stick to the relevant ones here).  Due in a large part to band (which is, again, awesome) and other academic programs, I’ve had, pretty much since I started school, at least as many female friends as male friends, if not more.  (And the vast majority of them were not subject to this.  Again, just to clarify, since many of them will possibly be reading this.)  And as you would expect, they were all smart, capable people that it never occurred to me to treat as anything but equal.

Likewise, the Internet didn’t really exist, as we know it today, even through most of high school, which means it wasn’t nearly as easy to talk to people not-in-person.  That, in turn, meant that your only real interaction with people was face-to-face, rather than behind a shield of anonymity.

And so I never fell into any sort of bitterness or other ill feeling towards women.  Any sense of entitlement I might have developed was nicely kept in check.  Not gone, if I’m going to be honest, and certainly enough for me to be a bit whiny at times, but certainly very limited.  And women certainly weren't anything to be feared (except when asking them out on dates or to marry me; that's all still nerve-wracking even when you know the answer will be yes, and even worse when you don't), looked down upon, hated, resented, etc., etc.

But without those sorts of positive influences, and the absence of negative influences, I can see how things might have gone differently.  While I'd like to think that my innate goodness, purity and innocence (I can keep going if you want...) would keep me from heading down that path, I know better.  I know, from experience, that I can be swayed into doing things, or at least going along with things, that I later might not be, y'know, super proud of.  (Don't worry, Mom and Dad, nothing criminal or self-destructive, I promise.)  It's not fun to admit, but self-awareness is generally a good thing, right?

And that's with all of the positivity and stuff.  Without it, who knows?

Don't get me wrong, I am not excusing, in the slightest, anyone who goes down this path.  Harassing or hurting others is never okay.  All I'm saying is that I can understand how someone can wind up there without necessarily any evil or malicious intent, but just because they didn't have anyone to bring them back.  And understanding is an important step to fixing the situation.  But more on that next time!

(Note: I actually had this mostly written before the events in Marysville on Friday.  I honestly have no idea if there's any connection between what I'm describing here and the shooter, but I sat on this for a couple days to give it some space, just in case.)

Scathing Critiques of Children's Literature: Curious George

(This is the start of a series where I look at just how terrible some children's books really are.  I did a Facebook post on Curious George a while back, but in case you've already read that, rest assured that this is a revised and expanded version.)

Is it just me, or are the Curious George stories actually terrible things to be reading to children?

In general, we want the books we read our children to reflect the life lessons we want them to sneakily absorb.  Sure, they should be inventive and fun and engaging and entertaining (or I'm certainly not going to read them; boring!), but my life as a parent certainly gets a lot easier when I can foist the heavy moralizing and social instruction off onto storytime.  Who's got time to do that themselves?

But the lessons that are embedded in Curious George are absolutely horrifying.  Let's look at the typical story arc for George, especially in the newer books (which I'm going to assume the TV show more closely resembles):

1) George goes somewhere with the man with the yellow hat.
2) George promises to be good while the man with the yellow hat goes off somewhere else. (Don't worry, we'll be discussing the man with the yellow hat later.)
3) George is good for about 5 seconds before saying, "Screw it", and doing his own thing.
4) George gets into trouble.
5) (common but not universal) George runs away to avoid being in trouble.
6) George fixes (usually accidentally) a problem that was caused by his screw-up to begin with.
7) George wins all the praise!

Written out like that, it's like it was scripted by Honest Toddler or something.  (Although surprisingly, Honest Toddler doesn't like Curious George.  Haven't figured that one out yet.  Maybe Caillou does?)  But seriously, this is the storyline we want our kids to absorb? No consequences, just everything working itself out in the end to your advantage? "Oh, no, George, I don't mind at all that you've made hours of extra work for me by dumping all the dirt in my dump truck into the pond! You made a nice unplanned island for ducks that will probably last about 3 days in reality, so it's all okay, and you're awesome!"

And the adults... hoo boy, the adults in this book.

Let's start with the fact that the man with the yellow hat KIDNAPS George from the jungle to take him halfway across the world and sell him to a zoo. That was a bit eye-opening to read, although in keeping with the times, I suppose.

And as a pseudo-parent, the man with the yellow hat is comically naive and nigh-criminally negligent in his supervision of George.  Sometimes he just asks George to wait somewhere, despite the hundreds of pages in previous tales that shows that George is entirely incapable of waiting.  Sometimes he leaves George entirely unattended in the house (or elsewhere) for hours at a time! 

And let's not even talk about the time that George goes missing, gets press-ganged by a circus (which they were planning on attending together), and the man takes a break from his supposedly-frantic searching for George TO GO TO THE CIRCUS ANYWAYS.  Without George.  Hey, when you've got tickets, y'know?  Of course, since George is there, having been Tom Sawyered into performing, it all works out in the end.  Of course.

The rest of the adults are generally petty, vengeful, physically-threatening overreacters. It's honestly hard to blame George for running away when most adults seem to react to his misdeeds by charging at him with a clear intent of bodily assault.  Of course, everyone changes their tune once George has his [sarcasm]crowning moment of awesome[\sarcasm].  George is magically forgiven for everything, regardless of any property damage, accidental poisoning, bodily harm or other massive inconvenience he might have caused.

I did call out the later books above specifically, because the older books aren't quite so bad.  If nothing else, they're way more entertaining, because they are insane.  In one book, George:

1) Receives a letter while once again being left unattended at home for hours.
2) Tries to write his own letter (despite not being able to read) and spills ink everywhere by trying to fill a fountain pen with a funnel.
3) Floods the room with soap and water trying to clean up.
4) Steals a pump and a cow to pull it.
5) Hops a ride on a truck going who-knows-where to avoid apprehension by the owners of the pump and cow.  (How George hasn't wound up in another state, never to be found again, is beyond me.)
6) Destroys a dinosaur exhibit at the science museum trying to eat fake coconuts.
7) Gets rescued from yet another bout of incarceration by the man with the yellow hat, who tells everyone that the letter was from the director of the science museum, who then forgives George for the thousands of dollars of damage and the destruction of priceless fossils.
8) Agrees, under what can hardly be called informed consent, to demonstrate the ejection capability of a rocket that the director has apparently built (in his backyard or something, I don't know.  It's pretty sketchy).
9) Undergoes extremely minimal training, and is escorted to a rocket and launch pad that basically look like they were built by Estes.
10) Is summarily launched with minimal countdown or launch preparations (including protections for those launching the rocket).
11) Is nearly lost in space before he overcomes (apparently unanticipated) g-forces to activate the ejection mechanism, which is placed inconveniently far away for a small monkey, yet is large enough to displace most other controls that would be useful in actually controlling the rocket.
12) Is feted by everyone in town upon his return, including the woman who spent hours cleaning up the soap and water mess.

I just... I mean... what?  All the problems I mention above are still there, but at least it's so over-the-top crazy that it's entertaining to read.   The new ones aren't nearly so entertaining (although at least they're shorter).

Also, George's place of residence seems to change with every book.  One time he's in an apartment.  Another time he's in the city.  Other times he's in the suburbs/other smaller towns, although the surroundings are always different.  Perhaps the man with the yellow hat is a spy, and is constantly forced to change locations due to the visibility George is bringing him?  This would also explain why he leaves George alone for so long so frequently.  Yep, this is my headcanon now.

Unfortunately, Kieran really likes them, so the best I can do is just enforce a break from them every now and then (and try to steer him back to the Berenstain Bears).  But really, how did a series with such lousy role models and life lessons get so popular and prevalent?  Never underestimate the power of a small monkey, I guess.

At least it's better than Caillou.

Grad School

(Programming note: My second year of grad school started last week.  Accordingly, updates will probably be a bit fewer and farther between, at least until I get a handle on how much time this quarter’s class is going to take up.  Plus, I figure I should actually spend some time with my wife when I’m not doing homework… However, I’m going to try to at least post something every other week, and hopefully more frequently than that, time permitting.)

“What do you do when you realize that your entire life has been a waste?”

When I was 19, I had a nice leather-covered journal with a cloth bookmark and gold page edges and everything.  It was pretty fancy, and I’m pretty sure it’s still lying around the house somewhere.  It contains exactly one entry, beginning with the above question, more or less word for word.  I couldn’t tell you specifically what else I wrote, although I remember the basic sense of it, but that first sentence has always stuck with me.

That reason is mostly because of how silly I realize I sounded.  It’s funny how trying to be profound generally just comes off as self-involved or whiny or simply melodramatic most of the time (especially when you’re 19).  Why was I trying to be like the Chinese guy from the Karate Kid?  Well, mostly because it was a nice journal, and I felt like I should write profound things in it.  Why put trivial things in such a nice journal?  That just seems like a waste!  (A blog, on the other hand…)

As I said, that one entry is the only thing in the journal.  It rambles for two or three pages, whining about this, that, and the other.  I remember that I’d just watched Chasing Amy, and was feeling like I hadn’t really, y’know, lived.  (Because that’s a totally realistic expectation at 19.)  (For the record, I’m not implying that I wanted Chasing Amy to be a model for “living”, either.  Just so we’re clear.  But there’s passion, and drama, and passionate dramatic kisses in the rain, and Seattle has lots of rain, and I was 19, I’m just saying.)  It’s the only entry because even then, I realized that I was really just whining, and whining is obnoxious and silly, not profound.

Not that knowing I’m whining necessarily prevents me from continuing to do so, sometimes at length.

And anyways, the question isn’t even really true.  It certainly wasn’t true then, and it’s even more not true now.   And I wasn’t depressed or anything, just writing down overwrought teenage angst in an attempt to sound deep.  My life was not a waste then, and it’s definitely not now.

But that question also sticks with me, not for the question itself, but for the call to arms inherent in the answer.  What do you do?  Well, you stop wasting your life, right?  How inspiring!  I do not regret the things that I have done, but those I did not do!  Of course, it’s easier said than done, but most things are, and it’s at least a good reminder.

So what brought this to mind now?  Who knows where thoughts come from?  They just appear!  Well, actually, as I noted above, my second year of grad school started last week.  Typically, you go to grad school to develop yourself, your skills, your knowledge, etc., in the pursuit of “making something of yourself”.  And typically, you’re doing it in an area you’re passionate about, or one that’ll advance your career, right?

I always get a bit awkward when someone asks me why I’m in grad school, because, to be honest, I don’t have a good answer.  Is it going to help me in my job?  No, not really.  And shifting to one of the engineering design areas that the program is geared for would be a significant career change for me.

So why am I doing it?  Well, basically because (a) I like learning (seriously, why can’t someone just pay me to go to classes and learn all the things?  You want my dream job, there you go), and (b) having a Master’s in anything generally doesn’t hurt (especially since my company varies experience requirements for job levels based on education), and (c) the company’s paying for the tuition and books, so my entire cost is pretty much just my time and effort.  And I feel bad even saying that, because everyone else I know who’s done grad school was either doing it full-time, or was sacrificing basically all their free time outside of work to do it, and my program simply doesn’t require that of me.  (As evidenced by the fact I still have time to post here.)

But having an answer that basically boils down to a shrug and a “Why not?” isn’t very satisfactory.  So am I wasting my time on this?

(This question is actually why this post is so much later than I expected it to be.  Seriously, I’ve been chipping away at this for a week, and I’ve had to update the note up top from “today” to “this week” to “last week”.  Settling on an answer to the question has been… difficult.  Maybe I just need to set myself an arbitrary deadline, like 1:37 this afternoon.  Of course, that didn’t turn out well, so maybe not…)

Some little part of me wants to say that yes, I’m wasting my time.  After all, this program isn’t really going to benefit me at work without, as noted above, a significant step sideways or even backwards in my career.  And jobs are what’s really important, right?  They’re the yardstick by which our worth as a person is measured?  That’s certainly what American culture tells us nowadays, and this little part of me has bought into that hook, line, and sinker.

However, the more I think about it, the more I don’t agree with that little part of me.  (This is how much this part has changed: when I originally started working on this, that was not going to be the conclusion.)  

Part of the reason is that I think the American cultural attitude towards work is profoundly unhealthy.  I’m generally not one to tell other people what to do (or at least, I try not to be) (and unless it’s telling people to stop arguing with the experts, or how to merge or drive on the freeway, or… okay, maybe I do tell other people what to do now and then), so if making work your #1 priority is what makes you happiest, and it’s not hurting others (family, etc.), then go for it!  But that’s not me, and I don’t think it’s any sort of moral failing to be content with doing my job well for as much time as I’m expected to, and then moving on with the rest of my life for the rest of the day.

(This may or may not wind up as a separate post, depending on how daring I’m feeling, but I really don’t see any moral virtue in gainful employment.  I do think it’s good for everyone to have something productive or meaningful or fulfilling to do with their days, but that doesn’t necessarily need to be “work”, especially just for the sake of work.)

So the fact that grad school isn’t necessarily going to help me with work doesn’t automatically make it a waste of time.  Cool.  It might help, though!  You never know what opportunities may lie down the road, right?  So, despite my statement up above, maybe “Why not?” isn’t the worst reason in the world.  Continuing education is a good thing, and you never know when it might come in handy.  I mean, despite not working directly in an engineering design group, my engineering degree has still been useful, so this grad school stuff might, too, right?  So there’s another part.

And the third part (because every good list has three things, as long as they don’t all mean the same thing) is that my job currently kinda sucks.  Actually, it started getting worse not quite a year and a half ago (if you know where I work, this should be a fairly trivial exercise to figure out), and has been steadily declining.  My group doesn’t really have any say in how we do our jobs any longer, and most of the interesting workload has been given to other groups (and what workload we do get to keep, our managers keep trying to screw up).

And grad school, honestly, gives me something to be excited about, and provides some intellectual stimulation.  I get way more amped up now about class and even homework than I do my job.  Don’t get me wrong, I get excited about family, and get intellectual stimulation at home, but grad school is much more work-related in terms of those things, and therefore a different category.

So no, I guess grad school isn’t a waste of time.  Yay!

I’m not sure I have a point to this, honestly.  I’m not fishing for any sort of reassurance, nor am I attempting to solicit advice (although if anyone has any groundbreaking insights, I’ll listen)(note that “Find a new job” would not actually be one.  I didn’t want to bog things down explaining why I’m still where I am, but there are reasons).  I’m also trying not to keep this from being “Fancy journal, part II”.  And this post certainly had more immediacy when it was “grad school starts today” than it does as “grad school started a week ago”.  But at this point, I’d put so much effort into this post that I didn’t want to just abandon it!

I guess maybe I just needed to work through a few things in my head.  Obviously, by working through writing this, I’ve changed my mind about a few things, so maybe writing this was the point.  And I don’t know, maybe if you strip out the details, the general outline is relatable to someone else?  After all, if one kid out of a hundred million feels that he relates, that’s great, right?

Anyways, that’s that.  If you’re still with me, thanks for reading!  But then again, you voluntarily signed up to read a blog that’s basically whatever I feel like writing about, so you can’t say you weren’t warned…