View from a defunct ski area in the South-central region of Colorado, 11,500 foot elevation
For years I struggled with a particular philosophical question. It seemed to always pop up whenever I would find myself faced with a challenging situation, and sometimes even when the situations were not so challenging.
Interestingly enough, not only did I ask myself this question on uncountable occasions, but throughout the course of my life I was asked the very same question by family members, friends, teachers, classmates, employers, business partners, co-workers, strangers, etc.
That question was; "What the hell is my problem?"
We have all heard or read that it's not possible to do anything about a problem until the problem is actually recognized. Well, that truth hit home for me a few years back, which, unfortunately was about thirty years late in my opinion, but, better late than never.
It hit me like a meteor crashing into the hinterlands of Russia.
We all know that one of the greatest liberties a person can know is that of truly knowing thyself. It frees up the mind for dwelling on so many other matters.
So this revelation, when it hit me, was liberating to the nth degree. And it was so, so simple.
The truth was thus: I am an idiot.
This may not be news to a lot of people who have come into contact with me over the years, but for me...well, denial ain't just a means of justifying that extra sour cream on the tacos, my friends.
For decades I had been in denial about my true nature. It was easy to do, as I had a veritable cornucopia of other afflictions, real and imagined, that I could blame whenever I found myself facing the consequences of a bad choice, a poorly thought out course of action, or a rash decision.
There came a day though, a day that changed everything. I did something that any sane, rational person would never in a million years do (as usual), and as a result of that action found myself exclaiming loudly (to no one in particular, as usual), "I'm a freakin' idiot!"
For reasons far beyond my intellectual capacities, instead of proceeding to blunder my way through the mess by gritting my teeth and enduring the consequences, I paused.
I paused, and I thought quietly to myself..."He-e-e-e-y-y-y self, what did I just say? I said I'm a freakin' idiot...for the sixty trillionth time...well, am I?"
The completely unavoidable answer was, of course, yes.
I am a freakin' idiot.
Most of the people, friends and family members that I have shared this revelation with have said things such as "Don't be so hard on yourself", or "You're not that bad", which is all well and good and even appreciated, but it's not even close to being honest.
It took awhile, but by the grace of whatever, I have seen the light. I know the truth about my nature. It's the best thing that has ever happened to me.
Some people think being an idiot is not knowing how to place a comma or semi-colon in a sentence, or perhaps not knowing when to signal a lane change when you're driving down a freeway.
Not me. That's just being unlearned or lazy. Being an idiot is a different truth. I know that truth. For me, what defines an idiot is simple.
When the proper course of action is laid out in front of you, when the pros and cons of a decision are obvious, when even the dullest of dullards could chose the path least likely to lead one over a cliff...and yet you still insist on following the path that will cause the most pain and discomfort...well, that's being an idiot.
And that is what hit me like an unopened beer can to the forehead.
Years ago, before the revelation, I would comfort myself with thoughts of being intelligent or at least insightful about most common matters that plague modern man.
Now I understand that, at best, if what I really know, if the real knowledge I actually possess was compared to the chances of say, Elvis staging a comeback concert at Madison Square Garden next week, Rolling Stone would be flying Matt Mahurin in to manipulate the cover pic for a resurrection special.
Before any of the people I have played trivia with or against make any statements about how I'm obviously not an idiot because I know a lot, let me carefully, cautiously, state that knowing a lot of trivia does not mean you're not an idiot.
It just means you remember a lot of arcane crap, plain and simple.
Knowing who replaced Brian Wilson for 6 months in the Beach Boys from late 1964 through the first few months of 1965 does not make you smart, it makes you a rabid Beach Boys fan.
Me, though I am a rabid Beach Boys fan, I am also an idiot.
If I were to list all the missed opportunities, whether they be career choices, companionship possibilities, investment options, etc., that transpired solely because of a poorly thought out decision on my part, they would make anyone cry.
Seriously...you would shed tears. For hours.
There is a story bandied about in the music industry concerning the A&R man at Decca who, after hearing the Beatles audition stated that the Beatles had no future in show business.
I comfort myself with the knowledge that I am not that big an idiot.
However...
I am an idiot. How can I make such a statement? Simple.
Being labeled an idiot is a quantifiable thing. Some people are labeled as idiots because they forgot to pay a bill on time or maybe they buy something completely unnecessary, overpriced and poorly made because it's on sale.
Pfft. Child's play. I've left windows open in the middle of winter while the thermostat was set at 75, I've walked out of filling a waterbed to return a day later to a flooded showroom and warehouse, I've paid 29.99% interest on a credit card with a low minimum monthly payment for 3 years while desperately trying to pay down a credit card with an 8.99% rate in less than a year. Hell, I've had 8 credit cards maxed out at once...Eight! That's idiocy!
The argument could be made that poor short-term memory, pathetic financial acumen, miserable relationship skills, and decidedly questionable judgement are not indicators of idiocy, but I say nay.
I have embraced my idiocy. It has allowed me to understand that it was not through lack of knowledge or learning or even sense that the tribulations of life beset me, it wasn't because I got the short end of the stick or a bad deal in life, or that the odds were against me from the get-go.
It was simply because of that one little fact, that shiny (if you shine these things up, that is.) little truth - I am an idiot.
I'm an idiot, and I accept it. WTF, it could be much, much worse.
Recognizing that I'm an idiot has allowed me to finally do something about it. It has been years since the discovery and I'll tell you, my life is better than it has ever been.
Oh sure, I still make bone-headed decisions, and to say I haven't acted rashly or imprudently on occasion over the last few years would be a huge stretch, but those actions are farther and farther between.
See, nowadays, when I'm out shopping and I see a "bargain" or I'm considering asking a woman out on a second date when the first date was dull or I'm deciding what do do with some extra money I earned selling a painting - basically, before I do any of the foolhardy things I formerly did without hesitation, I stop myself with the inner statement, "Whoa, that's what an idiot would do - what would a smart person do?"
It has saved me a ton of regret, grief, and remorse.
Instead of dejectedly looking back and saying "What the hell was I thinking?", I now have been able to enjoy looking back and saying, "Wow, dodged a bullet there - that would have been a senseless waste of time, money, effort, etc."
So yeah, I got that going for me now. Wonder if I should put that on my OKCupid profile.
Naw, that would be idiotic.
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