Ray's Place: Help! I'm Misanthropic!; Is Word Actually Bond?; My Terminally Online Friend Sucks (Patreon)

Ray, I’m a guy touching 40 and am pretty close to letting go of caring about anyone and anything as most people around me bring me straight misery…what’s some advice to stay passionate about life and stay in the empathy game? — C. F. Duddy

Dear C. F. Duddy, 

It’s funny, I was havin’ this hella empathetic morning today. Just everywhere I looked, I thought about somebody else. As I was about to grab my toothbrush — I didn’t even turn the bathroom lights on, so it was this gray and moody light from the rainy day outside — this thought entered my head: When is the last time they shave a President’s balls? I was thinkin’ about how old that Joe Biden guy got, and there’s gonna be that one last time. 

I know that doesn’t make any traditional sense, since it’s not a thing kids learn about the President, but if you try to imagine a President ungroomed down there, it just doesn’t really compute, now does it? Try it, I’ll wait. Maybe start with an easier one, like FDR.

Anyhow (man, I got to stop leanin’ so hard on the word “anyhow” as part of my writer’s toolbox), it sounds like you’re in a pretty classic midlife rut. I empathize! Have you tried NA? I’m not saying you have a problem with drugs, especially since you don’t mention anything about them, but it can be a fun way to get some perspective that things ain’t actually so bad for you. I went to NA with my old buddy Smacks Peel last week ‘cause he’d been eatin’ edibles in the garage at night to save his marriage, and when I walked out it was like wakin’ up from one of those dreams where you’re playin’ knife game but stabbin’ straight into a finger each time. Phew! (And who goes to NA for CBD edibles?! Smacks really ain’t my guy in a lotta ways, but we known each other since tinkle times, so I got to haul ‘em up for the dude.) 

If NA don’t work, don’t worry. Maybe watch Jeopardy! at like 0.125x speed and use Wikipedia to style on the contestants. The victories will be invalid, but it’s a great way to bootstrap ya' up some dopamine production. 

—Maybe I’m Finally A Doctor Now?! RayQS—

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Ray: I entered into a business arrangement wherein the counterparty took on the lion's share of the risk in the event business struggled, and gave my word I would not stick him with the bill, as it were, should things limp along. We both made out like bandits for two years, but now the bill has come due, and he is bearing the greater brunt of the costs. As an aside, I have brought him some tangential business that hums along, at a clip much less risky and much less rich. I prefer to be a man of my word, on principle. In order to do so in this instance, I would have to accept the possibility that it will be several years before I make any money. The counterparty has other significant income streams, and I do not. My question is: should I stick it out through the lean years to keep my promise? Or should I admit to myself that I am basically a selfish creature, and that several years of my life are too much to give up for my gentlemanly honour? — Ben W

Ben: I see that you emailed me this question back in 2007, but I am hoping it’s not too late and that you have waited to make a decision on this until I could offer my ruling. 

This is a situation where it’s very easy for me to say what to do, ‘cause I got no chips on the cap table. But the only answer here is also the shortest one: you got to honor your commitment, even if it was just verbal. Don’t matter what the other dude’s sitch is. Grandpa wasn’t just talkin’ cold water when he said a man’s only as good as his word. A slippery tongue is a slippery slope, and pretty soon you’ll be tapin’ your dollar to a string so you can yank it back outta the tip jar when the barista turns to fill your cup. From there it’s just a matter of days until you got tons of black grody around your nails from diggin’ butts outta the gutter, and they don’t let you use the toilet at the store any more cause you smell like doody and sour wool, and then one night you climb the highest bridge in town and pray Jimmy Stewart don’t roll up. 

It’s hard out there for a flawed player. If you keep considering backslidin’, try hittin’ up an NA meeting, they can be a lotta fun and a great way to get perspective while you let the bad thoughts pass. I went to one with my old grammar school buddy Smacks Peel lately, and we all just wound up watchin’ Jeopardy! ‘cause the counselor never showed and never picked up his phone or responded to texts, and the lights had been out at his apartment since Sunday.  

— (•)\/(•) = OwlMoji, my Chiptunes DJ Persona —

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Dear Ray, how do I get a friend who spends a lot of time online to log off and go outside? They’re missing a lot of life and becoming difficult for people to relate to. —Étienne L. 

Dear Étienne, 

Yeah, Q-anon really took a toll on the men in this country. (I’m assuming your friend is male here, because men are especially bad at stuff involving what doctors call “managed existence.”) Between that, the messageboard with the weird frog drawing, and Seinfeld Forever, the male community really racked up a huge body count during Covid, and we’re still in the aftermath. Now that AI is about to birth a small USB device that can say I Love You and DoorDash is getting federal subsidies for all deliveries that contain petroleum jelly, I sense even stronger of struggles ahead for dudes.   

Now, you can’t fix a problem if you ain’t honest about what it is in the first place, and what your friend has is an addiction. There’s no shame in that! Tech got billions and trillions invested in latherin’ up that brain stem, and it turns out the brain stem is easier to hijack than a Radio Flyer. What I would do is go to NA with him and let him talk with the other NA people, which creates trace amounts of dopamine. A fun activity could then be if you pulled up a Jeopardy! on your phone, set it to .125x speed, and encouraged the group to use Wikipedia to get the answers before the pros do. This will help them create the larger amounts of dopamine that they usually count on the weird frog drawing for. 

—Ray, in, Let’s Play Doctor/NotADoctor—    

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Confidential to HuckTheRuck07: I don’t actually know if cats have giblets, but I ain’t gonna ask Google, ‘cause I don’t want a bunch of Thanksgiving cat gravy recipes in my feed. Gruesome!   

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