DOES ANYBODY HAVE A QUESTION?

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Dear Friends:

I am going to rant. I am already pacing with my hands behind my back as my late grandfather would do.

Sit down. Relax. Get ready...

Here goes:

If you don't ask questions, you don't receive answers. Axiomatic? Not really. A whole bunch of you don't know what "axiomatic" means (I'd wager), but you're afraid to ask...or you might be too indolent to look it up. Being afraid is painful. Being uninformed can be fatal, but merciful (at least in the meantime). And, of course, answers can reveal truths for which we are wholly unprepared.

"If ignorance is bliss, then surely 'tis folly to be wise." Damn that writer.

Why don't people (both those of you who happen to be reading this, and those of you who are not) ask questions? I'll answer that (that whole exchange, in itself, was a great example of a rhetorical question):

1. They are afraid of getting bad news. They are afraid that the answer will hurt. They feel that hope is an open door, and that certainty will crush them with its irreversible, cold massiveness. Mothers -- is it better to leave a light on in the window...to keep a place set at the kitchen table...to change the sheets in your child's room...than to know that your son was killed in the line of duty?

Is it better to know the result of a medical lab test? Without a definite answer, we can postpone tears, or sorrow, or mourning. An encounter with the truth can be horrifying. It can be mind-numbing. It can undo an entire life's work. It can tear the carpet out from under your entire reality.

My friend Will was eleven years old when he asked a question at the dinner table at his place. He wanted to find out if something that he had overheard (a neighbor's thoughtless whispering) was true. The man at the table, the man who had taken Will to Little League games every weekend, the man who had taken Will to Scouts meetings on Thursday evenings, the man who had taught Will to whistle, the man who always invited Will to go on little errands (to the hardware store, to the nursery, to the Dime Store -- with an occasional impromptu detour to the ice cream parlor)...

...the man whom Will idolized, said, "Yes, son. Your mother and I adopted you. We couldn't have children of our own. But we were blessed to find you. We love you, Willie." Will ran away from home.

When Will came back several hours later, his eyes still red with tears, he asked the man another question. "Why did I have to be adopted? Why couldn't I be normal? "

The story is true. I'm paraphrasing because I wasn't there for all of it. But Will told it to me that night. I'll never forget it. It stands out in my memory. Like an iceberg in the ocean.

In college, I asked the girl I loved if she had ever slept with another boy. She was quiet for a long while, and wouldn't meet my gaze. Finally, after my heart had been lodged in my throat for what felt like an entire autumn, she put her arm tentatively around me, looked into my eyes with a combination of love, tenderness, sorrow and regret (...an expression which I have not seen since then), and quietly replied, "But it was before I had ever met you." I was foolish and unforgiving. How I wished that I had never, ever asked that question!

The truth takes no prisoners and respects no innocence.

2. They think that other people (many of whom may, in fact, be so appallingly stupid as to be readily categorizable as inanimate objects!) will think that they are unintelligent.

I learned that Lucifer fell from grace because of the sin of pride. Is pride a sin, per se? I suppose that it depends upon whose pride we're talking about. That, and maybe the extent of the subject pridefulness. I am proud of my daughters (most of the time)...does this guarantee me roasting for all of eternity? I like to think not.

But when I fail to ask a question because of my pride, I generally consign myself to at least a brief season in the self-sacrificial sauna of sinners, with its full complement of background music provided by the Village People, Tony Orlando, The Captain & Tenille, and my third-grade gym teacher.

Don't let pride keep you from asking a question. Most people (at least half of the lot) are not as bright as you are, even when you've gone without breakfast. There is no shame in wanting to learn. There are circumstances and times which demand answers. The unasked question is a cousin of the Unexamined Life (I am really stretching the analogy here).

3. They don't trust that they will be told the truth. They lack faith in the integrity of people. Possibly all people, but probably just the people who are more likely than not to be liars. Some professions seem to attract more liars than others. I will not even dignify your curiousity by saying a single word about either lawyers or politicians.

Frankly, there have been times when I, myself, have not told the truth. In fact, there have been times when I have not known whether or not I was telling the truth. Those have been frightening.

When I ask a question, I would like to hear the truth (especially if it is good news), but, if that proves elusive or inconvenient, I can enjoy the simple notion that someone cares enough about me to tell me a whopper. By the way, pathological liars LOVE being asked questions. For example: Just ask a pathological liar, "Are you lying to me?" Suddenly, you'll be off on a grand and glorious adventure!

Interestingly, sociopaths are all pathological liars -- but not all pathological liars are sociopaths. I don't know why this strikes me as funny.

It reminds me of that old joke; Q: "What's the difference between a lobbyist and a hooker?" A: "A hooker earns an honest living."

Any questions?

Faithfully,

Douglas Castle




DOUGLAS CASTLE
CHILDREN'S INTERNATIONAL OBESITY FOUNDATION - HELP SAVE A CHILD'S LIFE.
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