Riding the Slipstream

Criticism is a bitch, innit? I can’t think of anything worse, except death and taxes. It hurts even more when it comes from someone you respect and when you realize that they may be correct in what they say. It is not that I do not appreciate good advice, but sometimes people tell you things that you do not want to hear. It is human nature I guess. If there is perhaps one thing I hate personally more than being criticized, then it is being patronized. When you are spoken down to. When someone says something to you and says it in such a way that it makes you are made to feel like an idiot. Like when the guy at the night club tells you in a condescending tone that you cannot enter simply because your jeans not comply with the dress code. How would you have known that? It is however when someone patronizes you at the office that it hurts most. Like the dressing down I was given today. And it is especially painful when it is delivered to you by a seemingly of control emotionally charged senior manager, whom you respect. Darn. And I thought human interaction these days was all about being politically correct, constitutionally right and all that crap. Or perhaps he was just exercising his right to freedom of expression. It was a classic case of my stick (dick?) is bigger than yours and don’t you forget it! To say that I was pissed off at the manner in which the criticism(?) was leveled at me would be the understatement of 2006. Somewhere in there, in spite of the 1,001 personal references, I knew he was trying to make a point, but for the hell of me I just could not see it. I was too busy trying to make sense of all the hand gestures he was making at the time. He looked like a frikkin pointsman at a very busy traffic intersection! I guess he enjoyed his little tirade so much that he flagrantly disregarded the facts pertaining to the matter. The bemused expression on my face must not have met with his approval, because he ended off with a "don’t you dare look at me like that, young man!" [Dad, how on earth did you get in here?] When I finally had the opportunity to voice my humble opinion, it just did not seem worth it to defend myself. He was not in the mood to listen and I was far too bloody angry to get my thoughts in order. Besides, I did not want to give him the satisfaction of seeing me flustered. I elected to make appointment to speak with him when he is less emotional. Having said that, the onus is still on me to sieve through the rubbish and heed the "advice". It pays to check your reflection in that mirror, boet! Step up to the challenge and accept what is being dished up like a mature man. Ah. Yeah. Whatever. All in a day’s work, I guess. It is going to be a helluvah long week.