Sometimes it's Best Just to Shut the F**k Up

I recall an occasion where, towards the end of a generally positive job interview for a highly specialized and very well-paying welding job, I remarked that I couldn’t work Tuesday evenings because it would interfere with my AA meetings.

WELL!

Needless to say, I’d talked my way out of that job. Sometimes it best just to shut the f@ck up.

I eventually gave up on AA. The more meetings I went to, the more I realized it was just a bunch of old drunks bragging about their drunkenness. “Hey you young whippersnapper, I’ve spilled more booze on my tie than you’ve ever drank.”

Maybe so, but give me a few years to catch up and we’ll chat again.

But we never did. I’ve done OK without AA for a good forty years now.

Nevertheless, the lesson should have been that sometimes the best thing to say is to not say a thing.

I’m recalling this because I ran into a guy the other day who was more than a little pleased to inform me that he’s learned Spanish over the summer.

That reminded me of my career as a student of the Spanish language.

I’d taken first year Spanish at the U of Goo and got a middling mark. I think it remains the lowest pass mark on my transcript to this day. The only fail mark on that transcript is second year Spanish.

On the first day of my second year Spanish course, the Prof went around the room asking each student why they were taking Spanish.

When my turn came, I had an extremely long-winded explanation that invoked Simon Bolivar, Che Guevara, and liberation theology. “I want to speak Spanish because it is the language of revolution!”

I was very pleased with myself as I wrapped up my dissertation.

It was much later into the course that I figured out that the Prof and her family had fled Cuba when the Batista regime collapsed.

No wonder I failed the course.

Sometimes it’s best just to shut the f–k up.