Don't Be Sarcastic (and Have a Nice Day)!

My natural tendency to be sarcastic is another thing that I need to change. (I’ve added that to my big, ol’ list).

Sarcasm thrived when I lived in New York, but its appreciation as a keenly aimed barb, verbal prod or raconteur wit is totally lost in California. I mean, totally, man. People don’t get it, whether it’s used as an understatement or juxtaposition. Ultimately, sarcasm does have a place. It may be mistaken for mean or is totally un-understood (if that was a real word).

But like any long-held habit, it’s hard to break. I remember the biggest guy in my college dorm. What did we call him? “Tiny.” (Frankly, I don’t recall his given name.) Sarcasm once was plentiful in the “insert word + much?” equation. Say, some scarfed a Big Mac in seemingly one inhale, my response would be “Hungry much?”

But I also recall when my boss asked me to take on the leadership of a second magazine. After being dumbfounded for a moment as to how I was going to do double-duty, I remember responding, “Sure, no problem. Just throw all that on my back and I’ll take care of it.” (Sorry, Kurt.) He was from California, didn’t see a problem; I missed the opportunity to air just how this was going to be done.

I proclaim that the sarcastic mind requires a bit of a refined sense of humor. Nevertheless, when my son recognizes my insincerity, perhaps I need to go to Sarcastics Anonymous. When he sees me wearing my gray T-shirt that proclaims “have a nice day” across the top of the ubiquitous yellow smiley face, he knows most of the time when I utter that saying I mean just the opposite. Like when someone steals the parking space I am waiting for or cuts in front of me on the grocery line. In my defense, I say “have a nice day!” in defense of being wronged. After all, it’s better than saying what I am really thinking.

My son knows my true intentions because he has heard the story about the day I faced off with a lady who blocked our driveway with her mommy-van as she went across the street to the school. I alerted her to the fact she had parked inconsiderately, to which she replied she would only be a minute. Well, that was too long as I was trying to get out of my driveway now. I asked her to move, things escalated from there, we both gesticulated wildly (but neither with one finger) and as I pulled by her, she yelled “Have a nice day!” I braked, ever briefly, smiled and replied, “No, you have a nice day!” Who said sarcasm can’t be sincere?

I’m trying real hard to extract sarcasm from my verbal diet. So now if I say to you, “Have a nice day.” I’m not being sarcastic. Instead, consider:
• I don’t know what else to say;
• Have to dash and this signals my departure; or
• Hopefully really mean it.

So have a nice day!