We are all odd, in our own ways. I may be odder than most.

I hate pickleball.

There, I’ve said it.

I hate the very idea of pickleball. It looks more like checkers than, say, tennis, and it strikes me as sad when I see an older or, worse, an elderly person recovering from a serious injury from playing the game (I think of pickleball more as a game than a real sport).  How do you dislocate your shoulder playing a board game? If I’m going to need another hip replacement, it’s not going to be because I tried to chase down a whiffle ball on the checkerboard court.

I also have no patience for golf. Three to four hours (or more if you and/or the rest of your foursome aren’t very good) chasing a ball that is standing still until you decide to hit it, over and over, eighteen holes, small talk on the course and in the golf cart, then later recounting each shot over beers in the clubhouse .... It’s just not me. It seems so pointless, especially for those who don’t play it well, which, from what I’ve observed, is most people.

I’d rather spend those hours with my wife and family or, reading a book—or writing one.

And bumper stickers. I really don’t want to advertise things, least of all my political convictions, or the places I’ve been to, on the fender of my car for all the crazies in this world to see as they tailgate and then stereotype me. I really doubt whether a bumper sticker has ever changed anyone’s political beliefs or caused them to vote for anyone they didn’t already intend to vote for, or against. I find them an ugly kind of visual clutter. I’ve never had a single bumper sticker on any car that I’ve owned, and that’s quite a few cars over the years.

Oddly or not, I feel the same way about refrigerator magnets, the ones holding photos or the drawings of your kids, or the grocery shopping list. Who would want their photograph hanging on someone’s refrigerator door, usually with fifty others on top of them? Aren’t there better places to hang your kids’ art? And, okay, I’m willing to concede the logic of the fridge as a central location for the shopping list, but I still don’t like it. It’s a lot of chaos on what should be a nice clean uncluttered surface, and there’s too much chaos in the world already. I don’t need it in my kitchen.

I don’t like feeling trapped. This can be a bit of a curse because I have the urge to leave things prematurely, especially when I’m in a large venue, say like Yankee Stadium. So instead of staying and watching the entire game, I have to leave and get into my car by the seventh inning so that I’m not stuck in the parking garage in the Bronx while 50,000 people block my way. Of course, it’s ridiculous to have to listen to the ending of the game on the radio while in the car trying to beat the crowd that happens to still be in their seats at the stadium watching the game, but this clearly isn’t a matter of logic for me.

And it’s not just the traffic, or being stuck in a garage: I also tend to leave people’s homes earlier than other guests. I enjoy being invited over to someone’s home for dinner (and inviting friends over to mine for dinner too) but it’s always unclear to me how long the evening should continue, whether I’m hosting or guesting. Personally, I always want to leave pretty soon after dinner. And how do you let your guests know when they should go? The post-dinner period is terribly awkward.

Last but not least, I can’t stand concerts where people rush the stage or stand up and wave their arms, blocking my view. If we’d all just stay in our seats, everyone could see, right? To me it seems self-centered and oblivious to the fact that other people are also trying to enjoy the concert—but again, I’m uncomfortable with the chaos. I like assigned seats in concerts (and many other places, if I’m honest), and I wish people would stay in them and keep their hands and arms on their side where they belong.

No doubt anyone who has read this far is thinking I’m a negative person, or, in the case of the pickleball or golf fanatics out there, disliking me outright. That’s okay. You’re free to have whatever response you have, and I’m sure there are things I love that rub you the wrong way too. But I’m really not negative, as far as my view of life goes. I just have certain quirks or preferences or prejudices that make me more comfortable avoiding certain things. (Did I mention chicken on the bone? Ugh.) In reality I’m pretty optimistic about life, and generally happy when I wake up each morning.

Well, after coffee anyway.  

Maybe in the next blog post I’ll write about what I do like … 🤔

Best,

EJ