I’ve taken an edible, and I’ve decided to be nice
I read somewhere that more people than ever this year will get to the top of Mount Everest. The full extent of my knowledge about mountains is limited to this: if someone tells me they climbed Mount Everest, I think, “What an asshole.” But if someone told me they climbed literally any other mountain, I’d be very impressed and want to know more.
People used to climb Everest to impress other people, but I don’t know if anyone is genuinely impressed by this anymore. It’s more of a money-over-skill issue.
I was thinking about Everest because I was wondering what the hardest things are for human beings to actually do or accomplish. What’s left that genuinely impressive? It used to be weight loss, but that’s gotten easier. Now, I don’t really hear people talking about quitting smoking anymore. They switch to vapors or something.
The thing I think is hardest to do, if I really think about it, is trying to be a nice person. Some people wake up innately nice, giving, and charitable. That is their inner being. But most people are not very nice, and they don’t even know they’re not nice.
I would say 99% of people could not accurately be described as nice. I think one out of 100 people is genuinely nice. Most people are just fine. They’re in the middle. Then, I guess, there are some bad guys. I would say 20% of people are bad, like they could be considered villains within the general population. There are very few supervillains, but I think there’s about 15% to 20% villainy in the general population. That’s globally.
If you don’t know what I mean when I say being nice is hard, think about forgiveness. It is a nearly impossible task to truly forgive someone.
I’m kind of a hoarder in a certain way. Take T-shirts, for example. I have a Rolling Stones parking lot 2021 No Filter concert tee that I’ve been trying to get rid of for two years. It’s stained, it’s heavy Gildan cotton, it looks like crap on me, and it smells like bleach. This is a perfect storm for something I should get rid of, and I’m only getting around to seriously considering it today.
Now imagine that instead of an old shirt, it was someone who wronged you. They’re not apologizing or making it right. You just keep living your life while thinking about that thing. You don’t wear it like an old shirt that doesn’t fit anymore and smells weird, but you carry it around. You mght consider the idea of forgiveness, but eventually you’re like, “I might need that.”
I’m not a nice person, but I aspire to be. I’m not rude. There are people who would call me nice, but they haven’t met me more than three times. I can put on a veneer of politeness, but I’m not a nice person. Not really.
But I’m trying to be. I’m thinking about trying to be. I’m mulling it over.
I’m getting old enough that, at a certain point, you either become a nice person or you probably never will. I think I’m at the age where it’s time to pivot into being a guy who waves at more people than the average person and smiles a lot.
I guess.
I don’t even know why I want to be nice. I want to be better. Forgiveness? I am awful at it. I don’t want to judge people. I think most people are doing their best. I still judge people. I laugh at their best, I think, and that’s not nice.
I also have a dash of cynicism that I would like to get rid of. For example, I don’t like being in a grocery store savings club. I still do it. I still put my number in, but I don’t like that they’ve made me join a club.
They’ve kind of held me financially hostage. “You can still buy food here, but if you’re not in our club, it’s going to cost more.” That’s just racism. Or something-ism.
I think that is obnoxious. I don’t like being part of it, and I feel like I’ve been financially bullied into having multiple crumpled up little cards on my keychain.
I feel compelled to point out, that I am a Costco member, but gold, not executive, because I’m not an elitist. While this should annoy more than the obvious scam they have going at Shoprite, i consider the cost of membership at Costco a riff-raff filter fee. That money goes towards keeping out the riff-raff. (I don’t think referring to people as riff-raff is nice)
I think the people at ShopRite owe me an apology. Honestly, I could also use a new container of figs because the last one wasn’t so great. I know figs don’t stay good for long, but Jesus Christ, I can’t be seeing bruises on day one.
When I say “nice,” by the way, I don’t mean Christian. Those are completely separate ideas that are often confused by idiots. I’m not hating on Christianity. I’ve met some nice Christians. But statistically speaking, if it were a batting average, it would be below the Mendoza Line. If there is a God, I wonder if he ever looks down at his congregations and thinks “Most of these people aren’t very cool. I don't want to hang out with these people for all of eternity.”
And some angel trying to helpful is just like “well, ya know, fuck em.”
One of the things I’m struggling with is how to define the niceness I aspire to be. When I imagine a nice person, they’re smiling and waving at me. I feel like I could do that pretty easily. That’s nothing.
But if you ask me to forgive someone for something they did 20 years ago, I'll immediately start rubbing my temples and say “Give me a minute, please.”
It’s so easy to pretend to be friendly and polite. That’s fine. I have to do that. I see people I haven’t seen in a long time, and I smile at them. That’s pretty standard fare for a person.
I don’t typically do it while I’m drinking, but sober-nice is easy. Sober-politeness is easy. Try being nice after two beers. That’s Jedi shit to me.
The difference between being surface-polite and being innately nice is that you have to do all sorts of self-reflection. You have to figure out how you want to interact with the world, how you want to treat people, and how you want to feel about things.
It probably requires meditation. I don’t want to meditate. I don’t want to be nice badly enough to have to meditate. I don’t want to think that hard. Imagine realizing in a single evening, just how not-nice you’ve been for your entire lifetime. Sounds like torture.
I once knew a guy, the brother of a friend, who went to a Buddhist temple and became one of those monks who doesn’t talk. He found out surprisingly fast that pretty much everyone else there was mentally ill. To sign up to become a monk in California, you’d have to be kind of a weirdo. Even though they weren’t talking, somehow the Buddhists had still created some sort of toxic environment.
Even the Buddhists aren’t nice. What chance in hell do I have?
Whatever, man. At least I'm not out there climbing Everest. What a bunch of assholes.
