2/10/13

“Do what you love, and you will never work a day in your life.”----- Confucius

Confucius was a wise fellow 2500 years ago, back in the days when China was a great nation, a nation that was busy figuring out a bunch of stuff that those uppity folks in Europe wouldn’t ever discover if given a million typewriters and a million years. You know…stuff like macaroni and gunpowder. China had its affairs going so well that they could afford to have guys hang out simply to think of things. 

Apparently, Confucius did well at this thinking predilection, because if you do a search on the sayings attributed to the guy, you can stay busy for some considerable time, and you will feel like you haven’t really thought of anything first when you finish.

And you will be doing this many centuries later than Confucius. This guy did his thinking 25 centuries ago, but human nature being what it is, what he figured out so long ago still applies when applied to humans today. Confucius was real good at recognizing the good in the human condition and also spotting the bad. Not much has changed, in the human condition. We still have the good, and the bad. But unlike Confucius, we aren’t supposed to talk about it.

I was behind the clinic, airing the dogs, when I noticed the two guys behind the bushes. The little black dog barked at them.  It was about one in the afternoon, and my usual assortment of homeless folks didn’t generally show up until after dark, when the clinic was closed and I wasn’t around to hassle them. So I wandered over to discuss with them their situation. 

Ya see…I have a problem with the detritus left behind by the folks who indulge their addiction to alcohol on my property, for they have the annoying habit of leaving the dead soldiers lying about. I pointed this collection out to the two drinkers, and suggested they move on to sully someone else’s turf. 

The deal we eventually struck was that they would clean up the place if I’d look the other way while they enjoyed a beer each afternoon behind my bush. And surprisingly, I went with it. In the past I likely would not have.

I’ve talked with one of with these men on other occasions since that day, and found out that his wife won’t let him drink beer at home, so he indulges his hobby behind the bushes on my property most every afternoon, and from time to time he asks for a plastic garbage bag to clean up the mess to keep me happy. The guy loves drinking his beer. And apparently, he is free most afternoons.

As Confucius said, he does what he loves, and never works a day in his life.

I’m not sure this is what Confucius had in mind, but I’ve learned that when times change, you’re supposed to change with it. I guess.

So when I pulled into the parking lot of my clinic, again at about one in the afternoon on a weekday, and I found one of the usual homeless guys urinating on the front wall of my clinic, near the front door, in broad daylight, and right there where every client will walk their dog to get to my door, I mentioned my displeasure to him. 

Dude!! You’re pissing on my wall!!

Now, you have to realize that I’ve grown accustomed to men relieving themselves on that other wall of my clinic, the side opposite the doors, behind the bushes, where only I can know what they are doing onna counta the window in my office on that side of the building. That side of the building is apparently the designated outdoor toilet for the folks on foot in our city. That’s where I once caught a guy talking on his cell phone while wetting my bushes. Multi-tasking. I had planned on yelling at the guy, because I’m that kinda stubborn about my property, but I was so dumbfounded at his behavior that I simply stood there in amazement. And the guy yelled at me, for watching. I’m now a pecker peeper. Try saying that three times fast. He was angry with me because I caught him peeing on my property, and he thought I enjoyed the moment.

And I’ve grown accustomed to washing down the wall of the building after one of those guys uses the wall for a backrest when he, ah…poops. I know it’s always the same guy, even though he doesn’t sign his work, but I know him from the consistency of his, you know. It kinda runs down the wall, and what with the viral hepatitis and other concerns, I really enjoy pulling out the hose and cleaning up after him. But I can’t be calling out the hazmat folks for every streak of diarrhea I come across. There simply are too many.

But I have drawn the line, and that line doesn’t include pissing on the front of my clinic at one in the afternoon. So I yelled at the guy urinating on the front wall of my clinic. He looked at me as if I were a completely unreasonable person.

I guess I’m just not progressive enough, yet. But I should get partial credit, for I am working on it.

Ya see, I’ve relaxed my normal standards to accommodate people who live their lives somewhat differently than I. That’s what you are supposed to do as you go through life if you are progressive. That’s because just because you have been taught right from wrong, this doesn’t necessarily mean your right is the same as some other guy’s right. That apparently is no longer reasonable. I am learning live with that. 

But to be progressive these days, you are expected to expand your horizons a bit further. 

I’m now expected to welcome with open arms the homeless people nesting on my property, and accept the garbage, broken bottle, little wildflower tufts of toilet paper scattered about the land. I’m not to judge them harshly, simply because they have chosen a different path than I. I was taught right from wrong, but that was then, and this is now, and I guess there is/are no wrong…only different. So I leave em be.

OK, so I’m getting used to this. The inevitability of it all helps. I cannot stop them from nesting back there, lest I annoy them, or trample upon their rights. Such is no longer allowed if you wish to be progressive. So I shall get over it.

And I won’t use disparaging names, like wino or bum, for that throws these different people together into an artificial bag unfairly. They all have their reasons, and I should not be arrogant nor dismissive of their human variability.

We have learned to accept the frequent break-ins of our cars in the parking lot in broad daylight. Those poor unfortunates who break our windows to steal whatever they can find in the cars deserve accommodation, and understanding. For we don’t know just what in their lives drove them to such deeds. It’s not their fault. 

And I’m working real hard, now that it has been pointed out to me, to not judge the gang members in the various neighborhoods in cities around our flawed nation. It’s not their fault, you know. They’ve had it tough. Nothing besides food, housing, education, medical care (after they’ve been shot), has been handed to them.  They are completely abandoned, on their own, unlike the rest of us who work time and a half so we can afford our lavish lifestyles.

They are merely coping in their own way with the discriminations that life delivered at their doorstep. So if in desperation they start killing people when they are 13, and they don’t stop until they are killed at 22, it’s not their fault. Heck, it’s probably my fault, for I’ve had it easy at their expense…..somehow. Anyway, that’s what they tell me.

I should be more progressive. And I should get off their case. I should be less judgmental. I should be more understanding. And if for some demented reason, I object to this disruption of what used to be right or wrong, just what the heck is the matter with me?