June 28, 2008 by Keli.

No, I’ve not been overcome by stupidity and therefore, unable to write a post. I’m in the middle of traveling with my younger son to junior golf tournaments. Can’t you just see me, keeping one eye on my child, while walking the golf course and fending off inane stupers (short for unbelievably stupid persons), one arm on my hip, the other slashing with my razor sharp sword and similar wit? That’s me on the right:
I’ll be back in a few days. Meanwhile, I leave you with an empty headed blast from the past:

Ah, the stupid relative, of whom, single orphans aside, most of us have, whether by blood, marriage, adoption or guardianship. The worst part of this type of relationship is that it’s pretty much carved in concrete, albeit, at times, wet concrete. Even if you attempt to bow out, circumstances or milestones, such as weddings, graduations, funerals, holiday gatherings and non-refundable monetary disputes, may force a person into sharing space or being around the stupid relation. Here is one such ridiculous relative example taken from my own personal experience:

My infant son, only five days old, tiny, pink and cuddly, simply beautiful, lies sleeping in his bassinet, wrapped snugly in a yellow blanket. An in-law stops by to see him.

“Does he have jaundice?” she casually asks with about as much concern as one discussing the life cycle of the turnip.

Freeze frame. First I laugh lightly, too happy to let the words jar me.

However, later, when her question settles uncomfortably in place, I feel annoyed; in fact, at this very moment, recalling the scene, I still feel mildly irritated.

Words that were said over a dozen years ago!

In all fairness to this in-law, her husband is a podiatrist, so perhaps by virtue of co-habitating with a doctor, she felt sufficiently learned to make an immediate diagnosis (inaccurate as it was), and possibly considered that she was doing me a favor. Or perhaps the yellow blanket threw her off and caused her to misdiagnose.

What should I have said or done?

A. Slapped her silly;
B. Demanded to see her medical degree;
C. Replaced the yellow blankie with a blue one to see if it changed her diagnosis; or
D. None of the above

ANALYSIS:

This stuper came from an antiquated, narrow-minded culture where boys were revered over girls for their gender instead of valued equally. She only had daughters. Perhaps it was stupidity’s wicked cousin, envy, speaking through her.

The correct answer is D. By refusing to respond to her insensitive remark, I did not acknowledge it, and consequently, refused to permit this idiotic relative to have any sort of impact on me. Just being a stuper was punishment enough.

Besides, there were witnesses present.

Thinking is an art.

Keli

Keli@counterfeithumans.com

Posted in Relative stupidity | 4 Comments »

June 22, 2008 by Keli.

A surefire way to make a stuper (short again, for a ceaselessly stupid person) your bff (best friend forever) is to show him/her your money. As long as there’s plenty of it. You’ll have your very own, newly found, totally devoted stuper buddy, not only eating out of the palm of your hand, but licking it clean and giving it a manicure followed by an exfoliating scrub and moisturizing paraffin bath with toasty mitts. It’s not just celebs who’ve got a following. Stupers follow the money.

In my formative, late teen years, I recall an exalted presence revered by quite a few of my relations. (Remember, I have enough kin to rival the number of residents in Crawford County, Arkansas, population 280).

Kenny T was his name, spoken only in the most awed tones. He started out as a friend of one of my mother’s cousins; then, once word of his net worth leaked out, many of my relatives scrambled and tripped over themselves to become Kenny’s T closest and bestest pal. It was quite a tangled mess.

Kenny was much admired for….I’m not exactly sure for what, outside of his bank account. But tried and true stupers don’t require much in order to lavish their limited attention and unending, but highly superficial admiration upon a person; just plenty of dough. And a dash of celebrity doesn’t hurt either, which Kenny T cultivated by inviting occasional celebs to his parties.

Kenny lived in a mansion, drove the requisite cars, but seemed to me to have one small defect: zero personality. He didn’t talk much, but then again, he didn’t have to. His money did the talking for him.

I remember well the time when Kenny attended a party at the home of a cousin’s mother in-law. I happened to be there too. The hostess was practically in tears the whole night since she had Kenny T lounging on her leather recliner in the living room. There was a restless hysteria in the air, thanks to Kenny’s presence. People fawned over him, smiling fondly when he yawned and blinked his eyes. Those sitting near him feared leaving their seats lest someone else take over the coveted spot. Kenny T was a brightly shining neon light in the middle of a blackout.

So he continued to amass a large stuper following until one day he woke up to find…he’d lost all of his money. Guess what else he lost?

Many years passed and I forgot all about Kenny T as did my relatives. Then I attended the funeral of one of my great uncles. During the eulogy, I glanced over and noticed a lone man standing off to one side, behind the rest of the mourners. He looked vaguely familiar. Grayer, older, smaller. Just to be sure, I asked an uncle to confirm that it was indeed, the formerly beloved, Kenny T.

“Oh yeah! That’s him.”

Kenny T got into an older Volvo and drove away without having exchanged a word with anyone. I saw people glance his way…and ignore him. Quite a contrast to his bygone glorious, hallowed, monied days.

Stupers are opportunistic acquaintances. Fair weather friends. They choose people to befriend who can provide some sort of gain to themselves. A true friend doesn’t expect anything in return, and should not be interested in your bank account.

Keep thinking.

Keli

Keli@counterfeithumans.com

Posted in Monumental Stupidity, Relative stupidity | 7 Comments »

June 9, 2008 by Keli.

Away for the past few days on a short, but splendid trip, I wondered what to write for my dear readers upon my return? Alas, I had no run-ins with stupidity.

I stayed in a lovely Inn with a terrifically friendly staff in an unfalteringly charming town with exceedingly pleasant company. Everything that could go right did. Even the garden-variety stupers (short, as you know, for unyieldingly stupid persons), did not receive my slightest attention or any recognition.

Before I fell asleep last night, while in the midst of divine communion, I simply knew that a topic would come to me. It did. I dreamt about it.

In my dream, my grandmother, mother and I visited an ailing friend of Grandma’s in some sort of large establishment filled with roomy suites. In one of the suites sat Granny’s friend, Sam, who looked pretty damn good for a sick pal, not to mention he appeared to have shaved off almost half a century and now resembled a young George Clooney, with nary a gray hair.

Some relatives of mine were also present, including those who subscribe to the minimalist school of thought. Namely, the vexing Aunt Fay.

Now, when you see some one you care about, chances are you’re going to hug, kiss, slap on the back, grab by the shoulders, pull by the hair…make some sort of physical contact. Unless, you’re a stereotypical Brit, which, of course, we are not. My idiot relatives, mainly Aunt Fay, air kiss.

Aunt Fay approaches me, attempts a smile, then comes within about two-three inches of my face, turns her vacant head and kisses in the air near each cheek, Euro style, leaving me a little deaf from the resounding smack. There is absolutely no physical contact. This gets on my nerves because I think, why bother at all?

In my dream, I complained to Mom about the futility vs. the usefulness of air kissing by Aunt Fay. Mom replied,

“She’s f***kingly phony.”

In shock from Mom’s startling expletive, I awoke.

First of all, the possibility of my mother swearing in any manner is about as likely as my growing six more arms and roaming about on the ocean floor. It ain’t gonna happen. Not in this lifetime, anyway. Secondly, can the F word be used as an adverb?

Aunt Fay is phony. My sincere, thinking relatives don’t think twice about showing physical contact when around loved ones. Demonstrating affection, unless contrary to one’s culture, religion, or found to be punishable by imprisonment is not only permissible but a means of communicating feelings.

I know. Some of my readers are saying, get over it, Keli, it was just a dream and maybe you’re not one of Aunt Fay’s favorites, so why expect some sort of tearful, yet joyous reunion during your sleep? I don’t. But I do appreciate tranquility, asleep or awake.

Many people banish relatives, friends or lovers from their lives before any closure or resolution takes place. Of course, sometimes closure isn’t possible when one or both parties has a mind that’s closed or is just plain stupid, which is what a closed mind is, after all.

The best avenue to follow is to create your own ending from inside your own thoughts and heart. People aren’t always going to behave the way we think they should. Take control. Imagine speaking together in a way where kindly understanding does take place. To do this one must be unbound by any past unhappiness (which is not easy to do when you’re the proud, but humble owner of a virtually photographic memory, particularly when it comes to past wrongs).

I’m not a fan of my Aunt Fay and can’t say I’ve ever been (she’s married to Granny’s bro). But in my head, I imagined hugging her tightly (after the air kisses) and telling her how happy I was to see her. And treating her genuinely like someone I actually cared about. Her response to me was unimportant because in the end, it’s my own reaction that forms my character.

I’m not advocating turning into a doormat in order to deal with a diligent dolt. But I’ve found that one healthy way to deal with stupers is to admit to their existence, try to understand them and then, with monumental fortitude, be indifferent to them. Otherwise those irritating malcontents will take control of your mind.

Control your thoughts.

Keli

Keli@counterfeithumans.com

Posted in Relative stupidity | 8 Comments »

May 18, 2008 by Keli.

This weekend, I attended a “Welcome Home” party for one of my physician cousins who’d volunteered his medical services in Papua New Guinea over the past year. Many of my relatives were present, including the meager minded members who qualify as stupers (short for audaciously stupid persons). I’d like to introduce two of them to you so you may see for your intelligent selves:

Meet Uncle Carl. He was married for the past forty years to Aunt Marilyn. A pretty long time, don’t you think? So long that many of us can barely recall which of the two is the true blood relation. It’s actually Carl, who’s had several flings during the marriage, the last of which caused Marilyn to finally file for divorce. This infuriated Carl who believed life was good and should go on in the manner to which he was accustomed.

Consequently, he demanded Marilyn be blackballed from all family gatherings. This did not take place.

Poor Uncle Carl. He’s been so misunderstood. So what if he had no self-control or an acute case of wanderlust (the kind that had nothing to do with travel)? He always returned home afterwards. It was all Marilyn’s fault. She should have been more understanding. Besides, Carl liked to point out, how did he know that she was faithful to him? Maybe, just maybe, while he was fooling around, so was she.

Stupers are adept at blaming others for their own incompetent, often hurtful actions. Besides, for Carl, the devil made him do it.

Meet nosy Aunt Nellie. Her motto is, “Your business is my business.” She asked me to sit next to her so she could grill talk to me. Thanks to Aunt Nellie and her ilk, I’ve learned to evade annoying questions.

Nellie - “Why doesn’t your son apply to a college on the East Coast?”

Me - “Why would he?”

Nellie - “What are you going to do with yourself now that your kids are almost all grown up?”

(Note to readers: I hate this question. It’s often asked by those persons, such as Nellie, who I hardly ever see and barely know, and who have no real interest in me. I don’t want to share any personal information with this sort. Yet, if I don’t provide an answer, I’m invariably given a lecture about my foolishness in walking away from a legal career. So I try to provide a reply to keep the idle mind occupied and then promptly escape).

Me - “I think I’ll raise cattle or maybe even grow cotton.” (About as likely as my becoming an animated mannequin in the Pirates of the Caribbean Disney ride). “Excuse me, please.”

And I thankfully exit.

As I’ve explained in earlier posts, a stuper will focus on others to avoid focusing on a self that’s not in proper working order. Authentic family members, who engage in thought, treat each other well and are happy for others whether they desire to become astronauts or scarecrows.

Stupers should be avoided whenever possible. And if not possible, as in the case of relative stupidity, make the forced interaction brief and maintain your composure. Don’t allow them to bring out the worst in you. Bring along the popcorn, relax, and be prepared to be entertained.

Choose to think.

Keli

Keli@counterfeithumans.com

Posted in Relative stupidity | 7 Comments »

April 16, 2008 by Keli.

It’s a well known fact that should money be loaned to or borrowed by a stuper (short for an abysmally stupid person), said money will not be paid back. Ever. It’s akin to burying the money in quicksand.

In my pre-stupidity specialist days, I’d made such loans. But that was before I fully understood the consequences of engaging in a financial transaction with a charter member of the Stupid-Among-Us Club. My husband and I once made a very large loan to a relative. Years later, we experienced financial difficulties. The idiot borrower/ sister-in-law relation had not yet repaid. She’d secured steady income working as a professional, but decided to repay just a fraction of the loan which, to her pea size brain, equaled full payment. Perhaps her math skills were simply not up to speed. Or perhaps my husband and I should have hired a couple of thugs to beat her up in a dark alley with us as audience.

Despite my fervent pledge of never loaning money unless it’s to a genuine, authentic human, known personally to me, I did just that, almost two months ago. The amount was very small compared to the above loan; I paid for a hotel room to be shared by two of my son’s golf mates after being requested to do so by the parents. I’d driven them all to a golf tournament, and we ended up needing to spend the night.

One thoughtful, responsible parent repaid me immediately. The other, however, has not, and most likely will not. She initially told me she’d give me the cash right away. It didn’t happen. I called her a few weeks ago, and she apologized profusely for her forgetfulness, promising to send out a check forthwith. You can guess why I’m writing this. But it is my own fault. This parent was known to me as a stuper whose mind, like a hummingbird, flitted, from subject to subject with little rest. How could she possibly remember? Most stupers, as my dear readers know, are victims of ROA (Rapid Onset Amnesia). In the case of this last stuper, she may have additionally suffered from an inability to properly address and mail an envelope and/or to navigate her Suburban to my house which is a good five miles away from her own.

Some people who loan money are actually paid back. Maybe even by stupers. But, lack of repayment by a stuper can lead to, at a minimum, irritability of the lender.

In order to maintain one’s sanity, it’s imperative to keep proper perspective. Perhaps some difficulty prevented the borrower from repayment, other than inferior mental faculties.

The most important factor should be the well being of your own mind. If attempts to collect have been fruitless, think about the additional cost to your peace of mind in pursuing the matter. Maybe if the amount is small and you can afford it, let the matter go. If not, then communicate with the stuper until you receive back what is your’s; if necessary and possible, collect in person or have a third party do it for you.

I believe that if you can and would like to help another person financially, you should. But to ensure repayment, be firm and clear. Reduce it to writing. Especially if a large sum is involved. Otherwise, look upon it as a gift or donation. You’ll know what to do the next time they come a borrowin’.

Take time to think.

Keli

Keli@counterfeithumans.com

Posted in Plain Old Fashioned Stupidity, Relative stupidity | 4 Comments »

April 5, 2008 by Keli.

Stupers (short yet again, for unquestionably stupid persons), have an uncanny knack for turning the people around them into stupers too. Here’s an e-mail I received that confirms this statement:

Dear Keli:

I don’t know if I’m the stuper or my aunty-in-law is. I’d like to think it’s Aunty. I’m hoping you can tell me so I can move on and stop feeling upset.

My cousin, Tamara, is getting married next month. Her parents, Aunty and Uncle, have invited over 200 people to the wedding reception. I was disappointed to discover that my daughter was not included. I’m pretty sure other nieces and nephews are invited.

Tamara and her siblings were all part of my daughter’s wedding party. When Tamara was little, my daughter babysat her and took her to the movies, etc.

Any time, there is any sort of a family party, Aunty calls the host(s) and tells them to invite her freaking bro. So we always include her brother.

Aunty is super phony, superficial and is into designer labels. She once carried around her Gucci purse’s certificate of authenticity to pull out should she need to prove that it was no phony. The purse was real; Aunty is the phony. My uncle is a cardiac specialist and has been for thirty years, so they’re very well off. Aunty tries to act sweetly and expects everyone to act the same to her. If she feels they don’t, she’s easily miffed. My daughter has been candid with her a few times, so she’s not high on Aunty’s list.

Anyway, I’m disappointed that my daughter wasn’t included, and I can’t seem to get over it. I don’t want to go to this wedding, but my mother, who is Uncle’s sister, is forcing me. I feel like Aunty is on a power trip. So is my mom.

I don’t want to talk to Aunty about it because that will only fuel her power trip. What should I do to feel better? I have visions of bi*ch slapping her.

Sincerely,

Mom that was stabbed in the back by a stuper who is also her aunty

Dear Mom:

You don’t mention how your daughter feels about not being invited. If your daughter is okay with the lack of an invite, so should you. You should be happy for Tamara and focus on that thought rather than what or who you believe is missing from the wedding.

Perhaps you are taking this too personally. If your aunt and uncle are throwing the party, the choice of invitees is their’s. You are obviously aware of your aunt’s bouts of idiocy and have been for a very long time. Her overlooking your daughter should have come as no surprise.

Your own thoughts are making you upset. If you want to be a more intelligent person than your aunt, act like one. Although slapping might give you temporary relief, violence is not the answer. Do not allow a stuper to bring out the worst in you.

He that lets the small things bind him, leaves the great undone behind him. ~ Piet Hein

Think for yourself.

Keli
Keli@Counterfeithumans.com