guff

Agree to Not Disagree Disagreeably

These days I try to avoid arguments. It’s not that I fear face to face confrontation (or in the case of this medium, computer to computer); quite the opposite. I thoroughly enjoy a good scream at the top of my lungs, especially when it’s directed at someone else; and there’s much to be said for the electrified atmosphere of a good row. The exhilaration one finds from the heat of it, how it forces you to think on your feet to deftly locate and strike hard at your opponent’s weak points. I look back fondly at some seriously vicious, hair-splitting discussions I was involved in which left everyone psychically stunned, including the victor, for days. However, I have a good, sound purpose in standing down whenever a vocal wrestling match starts up.

There are obvious motives pointless to go into detail on: kindness is it’s own reward, do unto others; the important but invariably ignored proverbial detritus of life. Beyond these are more personalized matters that weigh in heavily. Hypertension runs in the family, so taking care not to pop a blood vessel is a common desire of mine. An effective way to finish up your side of a raging debate is not by having your entire left side go numb. Outside the area of medical health, I’ve noticed a mean streak can at times come out in my method of attack. It’s not a pretty side of me, and for all the apologetic notes and gifts afterwards, even I can’t forgive when I metaphorically grab their balls and squeeze till they drop to their knees. Not a nice way to behave with people you’ll be meeting for lunch the next day. And… well, there’s few events less disheartening than having made an adult male cry over his choice of a favorite color. On this I won’t speak further.

All good, logical reasons for evading disputes that just about anyone might consider, but there happens to be one more to take account of in my case, the one that probably has most to do in my desire to hold back at arguments: I tend to be a little too good at winning them. I admit this sounds ludicrous. It’s the intention behind joining a fight to come out on top. So why would I have concerns in exhibiting a talent at it? Frankly, I’m not sure I can express it to anyones satisfaction, but let me provide one example that may help.

Years ago my then wife — borne of a near upper-class, well-educated European background — complained how American children know classical music only through the cartoons they watch. (B. Bunny does love to la-la-dee through a Brahms or Rossini tune while befuddling E. Fudd.) I myself picked up an interest in Beethoven through Charlie Brown specials, and my long love-hate relationship with Wagner due to Bugs’ What’s Opera, Doc, so I could hardly disagree with this pronouncement. But having it foisted in such a manner (total though unconscious arrogance), I balked and fought passionately in defense of cartoons. “Without them,” I exclaimed, in part, “our children would know nothing of classical music. We should not slight, but thank cartoons for instilling an interest in major composers we’d otherwise have no contact with, as they’d be lost in the breadth but shallowness of pop cultural substitutes.” Or I said something very much like this. Whatever the words, they persuaded her that we owed cartoons a debt of gratitude by providing one small outlet for important music to show through the noise.

That this was nothing more than pure crap and I didn’t believe a word even as it left my mouth, should provide a small glimpse into my true reason for giving up on the art of arguing. Not totally, but to a degree so when I do find myself in a verbal brawl, I actually mean what I’m shouting.