ONE OF MY MANY FAULTS...

I don’t like it when people like bank cashiers and store clerks call me by my first name without ever having met me. I would never presume to do that to them. It creates a false atmosphere of informality and an ersatz familiarity. However, when I taught high school. I never would have stood for someone calling me Mr. Higgins. Even my dad isn’t Mr. Higgins (he’s Bob). On ships, the service personnel call all officers ‘sir’, an appellation at which I bristle. My room steward on my current ship called me sir for a month, even after I threatened to rub my dirty socks in his face (jokingly, of course. Don’t go callin’ the ACLU on me). And yet, when I speak with someone of a higher rank, I will always call them sir or ma’am, unless otherwise instructed.  I think this is because I have a problem with accepting responsibility and power.  I hate having to be in charge, even though I have been put into positions that have required me to don the mantle of authority from a fairly young age (I music directed my first ‘really big shew’ at the age of 19).  I also don’t like to be told what to do, which is why I generally like to work alone. I would like to think that I am a good and fair boss (one of the musicians on the ship recently said to me “Oh no. You’re in charge. You’re just not a dick about it), and I take pride in the fact that I look after the people working under me. But like Hamlet (yeah, right, I’m like Hamlet…), I am often frozen by inaction and introspection. I don’t always strike while the iron is hot, and have trouble making difficult decisions, especially in stressful circumstances. This is because I will over-think possible solutions and try to make things fair for everyone, when in the end, there often isn’t a fair solution. I also have this tremendous need for everyone to like me. I think my public persona is one of a jovial, social and warm guy, and I am, generally (Let’s face it, I’m a big softie). So when put into a position where I have to be a meanie (which happens), I am often incapable of it. I remember conducting a show where an orchestra member, who had worked with me before, was drinking too much, and his performance was erratic. I should have a) warned him as soon as his behaviour affected his performance and b) if he didn’t improve, fire him.  But I let it drag on because I didn’t want him to hate me. It’s as simple as that. In the end, I had to fire him, but I had let it go on for too long, and instead of having only one musician angry with me, I had an orchestra and a cast angry with me. You’d think I’d learn! I think I have gotten better at dealing with adversity since then. On one of my last ships, some of the band had an issue with a musician that I didn’t really feel was justified. I stood my ground, and there was dissention in the band for a while.  My choice didn’t make me popular, but I feel to this day that it was the correct choice. I wouldn’t have done that 4 years ago.  Occasionally, my temper and my heightened sense of righteous indignation get the better of me, and I can fire off a tirade worthy of Julia Sugarbaker (I remember yelling at a guest entertainer who had insulted the whole band and musicians in general, where in reality, the band was fantastic, musicians are awesome (!) and he was a prick with a Napoleon complex and illegible charts. I got in trouble with head office for that. It was worth it.)

I was in therapy for several months doing Assertiveness Training, where you are supposed to be taught to air your grievances calmly and without aggression, but firmly and assertively, hence the name.  In the role-playing the doctor and I would do, I would express my complaints calmly, and he would respond calmly, the way you wished people would talk in real life. But aha! That wasn’t real life! So when you bring this training out into the real world, people will respond sarcastically, or passive-aggressively, or violently. They don’t tell you that in Assertiveness Training.  I won’t say it was a waste of time and of a 15 bucks-a-week co-pay, but I think what I learned from that particular course of therapy was that you just gotta deal with shit. It was also when I was diagnosed with ADD, so I got to take Happy Pills for a while.

I’m not sure what prompted this entry, or what I intended by it.  I’m not even sure if it makes sense.  Maybe I’m starting to be comfortable with the fact that I’m a bit of a wuss. That would be fine with me. Well, if it’s ok with you.