I know it’s been a while, y’all. (Four months! How could I have let that happen?!) That’s why this post is a little bit longer than average. It’s like dinnertime on Fast Sunday – you’re about to gorge yourself on blog goodness! (Also, everyone knows that gorging yourself is #1, the healthiest thing you can do and #2, totally in the spirit of the fast.)
Art Linkletter spent years trying to convince America that “Kids say the darndest things!” I, for one, think this is a completely true statement.
This belief has brought about the discovery of what I’ll refer to as “Darndest Filtering Disorder,” or DFD. I believe that DFD is caused by a lack of development of filters in our brains that prevent embarrassing or inflammatory comments that we initially think from coming out of our mouths as speech. Young children have yet to develop these filters, which causes most thoughts, regardless of darndest-nicity (yes, it’s a word), to be spoken as soon as they are thought. Typically, filter development starts around the ages of 8 to 10 and, for the most part, are fully developed by the time the child reaches the age of 18. (Ages approximate.) Most adults understand this lack of development and view such spontaneous comments as “endearing” or “adorable.” And quite frankly, they are.
Some examples of Juvenile DFD:
In August, BriAnne and I went on a little road trip to the great states of Idaho and Utah to visit some family and attend Kayla and Jordan’s wedding. (Congrats! We love you guys!!) On our way there, we stopped at a Burger King in the middle of Nowhere, Oregon.
Tanner, who reacts to everything in life like he is not only seeing it for the first time, but also that whatever he’s seen is the greatest discovery in the history of humankind, spotted the fountain drinks and ice machine. In the middle of a crowded restaurant, he shouts, “ICE!!!” People glanced over and chuckled at this obvious display of Juvenile DFD. (Like I said, it’s pretty adorable.) Before BriAnne can usher her children off to some corner booth, Tanner spots the ketchup packets in a large tub next to the soda fountain. As I’m paying for my meal and have my back to them, I hear, “KETCHUP!!!” followed by more laughter from the other patrons. I gave a look to the cashier that said, “Can you believe some people’s children?”
During this same restaurant visit, we were all sitting in a booth enjoying our meals and some delightful conversation. Out of nowhere, and in the most matter-of-fact voice I’ve ever heard, Hunter states, “Sometimes I hit people and I don’t know why.” BriAnne and I both recognized this as an incredible teaching moment, and therefore, tried as valiantly as we could to keep from laughing and/or shooting soda out of our respective noses to try and convey some sense of seriousness about what was just said. (Even now, I start laughing when I think about it. In person it was much more difficult.) We realized that this was a case of Juvenile DFD manifesting itself and tried to convince Hunter that hitting was wrong no matter how funny it seemed to be to the people telling you not to do it. Ask BriAnne how effective THAT little lesson was.
While Juvenile DFD sounds like it’s all fun and games, one must keep in mind that there is another (less funny) component of DFD, commonly referred to as Adult-Onset DFD. (See medical guide photo below.)
With AO-DFD, the brain’s filters are fully developed, but outside stimuli can sometimes cause these filters to malfunction. Things such as stress, lack of sleep, or the incredible stupidity of others can wake DFD like blowing an air horn next to the ear of a sleeping lion. Out of nowhere, things that you would only think to yourself are instantly blurted out. This can cause serious problems, the least of which is extreme embarrassment. AO-DFD, while I understand that it can seem quite funny to others, is usually a mortifying experience to those afflicted with it. As one who suffers “flare-ups” of AO-DFD from time to time, I’m in a unique position to share some of my experiences and insights with you.
Some examples of AO-DFD:
One day, not too long ago, I was waiting for my order at the fast food area at the college where I work. A woman from another department ordered her food right after me and came over to stand next to me while we waited. After a little chit-chat, she asked me what I got and I replied, “Taco salad.” “Do you get extra dressing with that?” she asked. I said, “Nope. I like it just as it is.” “Don’t you think the lettuce gets a little dry at the bottom, though?” Without even thinking I blurted out, “Wait... You mean you eat the lettuce?!”
On another day, I was waiting for my lunch in this same area. (I think I was actually having the taco salad again… What can I say? It’s delicious!) The fast food place offers a special item each day that isn’t on their regular menu, and on this particular day it was a chicken salad sandwich. People seemed to be pretty psyched about this so there started to be a little bit of a crowd just milling around waiting for their food. Since it was summer time, there weren’t many students. It was mostly staff, faculty, and a vice president and the president of the college. Since I’d been waiting longer than most of the people there, when the cook came to the counter and called out, “Special’s up,” the V.P. turned to me and asked, “Hey, Matt. Are you a ‘special’?” Again, without thinking I just spat out, “Well, I’ve been told I’m special, but I think it was meant in a different way.” The V.P. and president laughed and the president said, “Um, I don’t think we’re going to touch that one.” I got my food and walked back to my little desk in shame.
Whenever the economy is bad, it generally means that business is good for colleges and universities. Our parking situation on campus has never been very good and with enrollment being up across the board (some classes even had 3 to 5 more students over the maximum students they usually enroll) everyone knew that parking was going to be a mess. One of our security officers told me that every lot was full to capacity at 8:00 AM and that people were having to park on side streets surrounding the campus. One particularly disgruntled bookstore customer came up to me and said, “I need to complain to you about the parking situation.” I hemmed and hawed for a few seconds while my mind ran through different customer service-y type things I could say to help the situation when I finally sighed and said, “Well, join the club. It really does suck, man.”
Most college bookstores have a very strict return policy. There are generally valid reasons for this. Bookstores usually have a limited period of time to return books to publishers for credit, students like to “borrow” (buy and then return) bookstore books until their Amazon.com orders arrive, etc. You have a few weeks before the start of classes and a few weeks after to purchase and return textbooks and above all: SAVE YOUR RECEIPT! This isn’t Nordstrom and we won’t take back just anything. I was explaining this policy to a student and stressing the need to save her receipt. She said, “Oh, I’m not too worried about it. You’ll remember me.” I replied, “Yeah, I’ll remember you… I’ll also remember I told you to save that receipt!”
So, there you have it. I hope that being able to impart some of my vast knowledge upon all of you has created a newfound understanding that will foster a sense of compassion towards others that are so obviously afflicted with this devastating disorder. Please do your best to not point or laugh, since the person is most likely painfully aware of the effects of their disorder. Just smile, shake your head, and know that we’re doing the best that we can.
