We say, “I’m going to bed,” but never, “I’m going to couch,” or “I’m going to chair.”
We say, “the show is at night,” but never, “the show is at day.”
We say, “I’m fixing dinner.” Oh, really? Didn’t realize it was broken.
We say, “I’m going to jump in the shower.” Do you, really? Do you strip down on one side of the house, run and take a flying leap through the shower curtains?
Some people say, “I’m going to take a dump.” But do you? I mean, where are you taking it? On a date?
We say, “I need to change my shirt.” Are you going to stand over it with a wand and cast a spell, “voila! Now you’re a dress!” Maybe the shirt didn’t want to change. Maybe it’s been happy all this time, content in all its shirtiness?
The Beatles sang, “it’s getting better all the time.” But is it? What is “better,” anyway? In my copy of the New Oxford-American dictionary, “better” is defined as “more excellent (did Bill & Ted contribute copy to this edition?!) or “effective type or quality.”
We Americans are linear thinkers, culturally bred to believe that if we do A it will certainly lead to B. But life’s not linear. It’s gooey and doughy and squishy. As a realist firmly implanted in my middle-ages, I have decided that I don’t like the phrase “it’s going to get better.” Dashed hopes are a drag. But before you go calling me defeatist, or worse, a buzzkill, hear me out first!
I believe in “different.”
What we can all count on is that tomorrow will be different from today. Maybe not in a huge, dramatic way, but there will be varations on themes, brought on by the weather, other people’s moods, the unforeseeable, the unknowable. Maybe Anonymous will hijack Google and you won’t have access to your email all day. Or maybe your best manfriend/womanfriend will ask you to marry them, etc. So no matter what your day is like today, tomorrow will be different, you can always count on that. Of course, you may genuinely have a better, more excellent day tomorrow, but you can take solace, when you lay down to sleep tonight, that tomorrow will be unequivocally different. Or, if you’re living your dream life and don’t require solace, then you can go to bed knowing that tomorrow may bring new, shiny things. Who knows? That’s what makes life interesting. That’s what makes life.
One of my favorite musicians, the brilliant British songwriter Robyn Hitchcock, recently tweeted something I found very thought-provoking: “Without the concept of fairness, life makes a lot more sense.”
I’ve been contemplating this tweet daily ever since I read it. What does it mean? What is fairness? For starters, I believe that it can’t exist without expectations. My copy of the Oxford English dictionary defines “fair” as – “in accordance with standards; legitimate.” Fairness is tied to preconceived notions and cultural values.
From my vantage point, there are a few kinds of fairness: personal, cultural and legal. Oftentimes these overlap yet they also exist distinctly on their own.
Personal fairness – I didn’t feel it was fair when the startup company that employed me sacked me along with many others but what they did was perfectly legit and allowable for a business.
Cultural fairness – Some Native Americans don’t think it’s fair that they should have to live on reservations but it was the deal that the U.S. government made with their nations, therefore, legit.
Legal fairness – Many people believe it was unfair that an unarmed man, Michael Brown, was killed in Ferguson, MO by armed police officers. Whether or not it was “in accordance with standards and legitimate” will be decided in a court of law.
An example of these three coming together at once could probably found in the family of Michael Brown, who believe that his death was racially motivated (cultural/personal fairness) and expecting this to be resolved in court (legal fairness).
As a thought experiment, let’s remove the concept of fairness from the above examples and see what we’re left with;
Personal fairness – My company sacked me-what if I did not have an opinion on the matter either way on that day? What if I skipped the part about feeling it was fair or unfair? I’d have shrugged and gotten on with life.
Cultural Fairness – What if all Native Americans didn’t think twice about being installed on reservations? Would the U.S. government had taken advantage of that? Almost certainly, yes, as many tribes only wound up with any land at all because they demanded reparations (Note: I majored in anthropology in college with a focus on N.A. culture, before you go asking who the hell am I to comment on such matters).
Legal fairness – What if the people of Ferguson did not have an opinion either way as to the death of Michael Brown? What if they had only noted it and gone about their business? Most likely the incident would have been swept under the rug by the police department and quietly forgotten.
From these examples, we can conclude that fairness acts as a kind of justice barometer. It is our conscience and intuition in action, ever alerting us and measuring the right from the wrong.
Every day, we spend many moments weighing what is fair and what isn’t:Is $12 too much to pay for this pound bag of coffee? (you’re hollering at the monitor, YES!). Was it fair to me that my dad lead a double-life with a 2nd family on the side? (No!) Is it fair that I or anyone else should have to put up with the pain of disease or addiction or the threat of war? (Of course not! But that’s out of our control).
Back to Robyn’s tweet: “Without the concept of fairness, life makes a lot more sense.”
Yes, life would make more sense but we’d be a lot less human without it.
All of the above is strictly the opinion/musings of Angel LaCanfora and, unless where otherwise noted, not those of Robyn Hitchcock, WordPress, President Obama, Bob Dylan, the good townsfolk of Ferguson, the Native American nations or anyone else residing on Planet Earth.