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Savoir faire found in the wink
Published Tuesday, January 22, 2008
Alan Linda
This is about solutions and resolutions. Although the two categories have barely any more in common that a certain poetic rhyming (unless you get into the ‘re-solution’ thing), the truth is that maybe there is some of the one in the other. Maybe.
My first resolution for the new year is to wink more. A wink, after all, conveys to the recipient a certain savoir faire. “Savoir” means understanding, and perhaps the description “clever” will work for “faire” as well as anything. So, a wink then would seem to convey from one human being to another the equivalent sense of saying: “I understand what it’s like to be human. It’s really pretty neat at times, isn’t it? And at other times, it’s so complex that all one can do is hope to get a wink from some one else who is or has been in the same boat.”
How was that for a definition of what a wink can do? For example, one might be standing in a crowd wiping the first snot of a common cold from your nose, and across the crowd is someone else doing the same. When it comes to a specific shared human experience that can be communicated with a wink, without a doubt it is the common cold virus. It exists purely for meanness and spite, and no one escapes. It is brought to us either by the devil or by Darwin, or maybe both. The devil could easily concoct such an odious affliction solely to remind us that yesterday? Like, yesterday? You felt good. You felt like you were winning, like you were in on something. Then the next day, you wake up with that scratchy throat, and you know: the next five days are going to walk you along a tight rope between going to work and being miserable, and staying home and being just as miserable.
The devil is involved here because he wants you to go out in an unsuspecting crowd and give this cursed microbe spawn of hell to as many other people as you can. After all, he implies, that would serve his justice, because someone gave it to you.
Darwin just says that these viral critters are here to make us tougher. Unfortunately, in Darwin’s view, that involves winnowing out the weak, the elderly, and who knows who else whose biological makeup isn’t so good for the gene pool of humanity.
Wink. I’ve got a cold. You’ve got a cold. Feeling bad for you, brother or sister. Here, catch a moment of savoir faire, which I’m sending to you.
The problem with winking is two fold. First, it’s hard to be ready to wink. Shared human eye contact comes fleetingly, and you have to have that wink cocked and ready or it’s no good. That car driving by with a little girl looking out the window at you. Perfect. A quick wink, a quick acknowledgement and recognition of our—you and me, kid — humanity, and she’s gone.
A mom wrestling a youngster caught deep in the throes of the terrible twos. You catch her eye, wink, send her a message that says been there, done that, hang in there.
The lady digging in her handbag at the checkout counter; the ten-year-old picking himself up after a skateboard crash; your car mechanic who—no, scratch the mechanic. Not after that $800 alternator. And he better not wink at you as you’re paying the bill, either, or that’ll be the signal that hello! I got you a good lick there, huh? Nope. No winks either for or from car mechanics.
No winks is a whole ‘nother category, it seems. Lessee, here, who else don’t we want winks from. Well, not from people younger than we are, because this is, after all, somewhat of a “sharing” sort of exchange, a communication that the winker also has gone through what the winkee is going through at the moment.
Younger people have not gone through as much; therefore a wink from one of them is a signal to us that they don’t get it, really. Winks do seem to be the most legitimate when they originate from wrinkled and weary older-than-us folks.
On the other hand, if you’re going to go out into the world and of necessity have a hair trigger on your wink, once in a while you’re going to shoot it at someone whom you shouldn’t. As a guy, you shouldn’t, for example, wink at your female minister. One, she’s about your own age, and two, this kind of wink exists in a twilight zone of propriety.
As the minister, she in turn probably shouldn’t be winking at men in the congregation.
Probably this winking resolution is going to get me in a lot of trouble. Nonetheless, I’m going to give it a try.
Maybe it’ll be a solution to the day’s problems to someone, sometime, somewhere. Wink.
Alan Linda writes from his home in New York Mills.
Comments
The Daily Journal is happy to host community conversations about news and life in Fergus Falls and the surrounding area. As hosts, we expect guests will show respect for each other. That means we don't threaten or defame each other, and we keep conversations free of personal attacks. Witty is great. Abusive is not. If you think a post violates these standards, don't escalate the situation. Instead, flag the comment to alert us. We'll take action if necessary. It's not hard. This should be a place where people want to read and contribute -- a place for spirited exchanges of opinion. So those who persist with racist, defamatory or abusive postings risk losing the privilege to post at all.Posted by Vampire (anonymous) on January 22, 2008 at 12:58 p.m. (Suggest removal)
Where is chipmunk when we need him?
Posted by chipmunk (anonymous) on January 22, 2008 at 2:25 p.m. (Suggest removal)
I haven’t posted lately because I died. I was standing outside Larry’s bar, waiting for them to open. So I decided to light one up, I must have inhaled too deeply because I sucked the cotton fibers from the filter into my windpipe and started choking. I thought I would die on the spot, were it not for the kindness of a hobo hiding behind the bar I would have. He called an ambulance on my cell phone, then stole my cell phone as he made his getaway. I remember the ambulance arriving and the attendants loading me into the rear and speeding to the Fergus Falls Hospital. When we got there they would not admit me, the place was full of Canadians (damn eripsni was right). On to Fargo to seek the best medical attention known to Minnesotans’ , no such luck, it was the same story in Fargo, every hospital bed in every hospital had a Canadian in it. I tried to speak, I was turning blue, if I didn’t get help soon I would expire before my time (if only Larry’s had been open). With a trembling finger I pointed north, the driver took my hint and at breakneck speed we headed for Winnipeg, Canada. Alas, Winnipeg is a great distance from Fargo and by the time we arrived I was dead. Cold as a walleye in January, but it was strange, I was hovering above my body, watching everything that was happening without a care. I watched as they put my poor abused body on a cold stone slab, I watched as the Canadian Doctor took my Marlboros and put them in his pocket.
I watched with fascination until I felt a cool breeze envelope my being until it became a mini tornado sucking my ghost from the hospital morgue I was being tossed over and over, end for end, into a dark tunnel, a tunnel with no end, so this was eternity one long amusement park ride, but then I perceived a tiny faint light at the end of the tunnel, it grew larger and larger, until the light was so bright it hurt my eyes. At that moment the wind abruptly stopped and I was tossed out of the tunnel and thrown to the ground in front of a massive door. A door so thick I knew I could not pull it open, just then Saddam Hussein, dressed as the doorman at the Mayflower Hotel appeared and with one gloved hand pulled the door open for me and motioned me inside with the other. I was ushered into a small dingy room, somehow I thought heaven would be cleaner, but when I saw the receptionist was Leona Helmsley, I knew I was in trouble. She asked if I had a reservation? “No, I replied, and I had no luggage.”
She didn’t even smile. “Sit down” she barked, “the boss will see you soon” I asked if I could smoke, but then remembered that socialist doctor stole my cigarettes. Leona said “there is no smoking in Hell”, (then she smiled) I was really worried now.
Posted by chipmunk (anonymous) on January 22, 2008 at 2:46 p.m. (Suggest removal)
Sorry page two was is lost somewhere on my computer and I don’t know how to find it, and it’s too long to rewrite.
Posted by bucksteel (anonymous) on January 22, 2008 at 3:05 p.m. (Suggest removal)
Chip - if you continue to post such rambling nonsensical prose, you run the risk of being asked to do so once a week for publication in the Journal (for a token payment) - but wait - Mr Linda has that base covered.
Posted by Jerry (anonymous) on January 22, 2008 at 4:44 p.m. (Suggest removal)
Wait now, Chip can write, Linda can't! Linda must be on somthing or he inhaled and forgot to exhale but his elevator does not go all the way to the top. I hope he is not getting paid for such articles.
Posted by chipmunk (anonymous) on January 22, 2008 at 5:31 p.m. (Suggest removal)
Too soon the door to the inner office opened and Leona said I could go in. I don’t know what I expected, but behind an extra large desk sat a little tiny guy who looked just like Charlie Weaver from the old Hollywood Squares program. He eyed me up and down then shook his head, I asked if I could sit down because I was feeling faint. He said “No, you aren’t going to be here that long”. He went on to explain that there were certain practices that were forbidden in Hell, for instance; no rollerblading, no cut off T-shirts, no bare feet, and lastly, NO SMOKING! I said “what’s to become of me?” He said I should have thought about that before I started hanging around Larry’s Bar and developing bad habits. He told me to go outside and wait, but not to talk to Saddam. As I passed Leona’s desk she asked me if I knew Bob Williams, I said “no, I’ve never even heard of the guy”. As the massive doors to hell slammed shut behind me I turned to see Saddam smiling at me. He motioned me to a park bench and told me to sit and wait. No sooner had I sat down then I was again swept up in a whirlwind, again tumbling over and over, end for end, until once more I was puked out in rough fashion before large vine covered gates, with a sign overhead that read “Back Gate”. I stood up to dust myself off only to discover that I was not dusty, moreover, I was wearing new white garments and in the breast pocket was a new unopened pack of Marlboro 72’s in the red and silver crush proof box, along with a new Bic Lighter in my favorite color, blue. I thought, things are looking up, now I could see the fruits of a lifetime of good works and kindness to strangers and small animals. My heavenly reward lie just beyond these gates, all I had to do was gain entrance and all would be mine for the asking. Cautiously, I approached the gate and lightly tapped. In the distance I could see and old man approach, he was so slow I nearly had to pound stakes to see him move. I was going to berate him for being so slow but then I thought what’s your hurry chipmunk, you made it, you have all the time in the world. The old guy peered at me through the bars and asked if I was the chipmunk from Fergus Falls or the one from Paris France?
Posted by chipmunk (anonymous) on January 22, 2008 at 5:32 p.m. (Suggest removal)
I said “Fergus Falls,” he seemed undecided, so I said “you know, the town with no good stores in the mall”. A flash of recognition filled his face, and he smiled and opened the gate. I covered my Marlboro pocket with my hand as I passed through the gate. The old man smiled again saying “there’s no reason to hide your cigarettes, smoking is permitted in Heaven”. I said “you mean I can light one up right now?” “Of course”, came the reply. I asked if I could sit down as I had been on my feet all day. The old man led me to a bench in a shady grove with a small stream running by. He said “you can sit here and smoke while you wait for the chairman”. I said “I thought his name was God”. “We are all socialists here so we call him the chairman”, I sat down, and retrieved my new Marlboros. With shaking paws I deftly removed the small cellophane rip string and the outer wrapping, I could smell that raw fragrance of unburned, unblemished tobacco. Silently, I withdrew one lung dart and placed the filter end into my waiting lips, with one fell swoop I spun the wheel of my new bic until a single spark ignited the butane into a flame, I brought the flame closer to the end of my cigarette and inhaled. I was drifting away in a dreamland of inhaled drugs and chemicals, my mind was racing now, I inhaled again and again until the ash at the end of my cancer stick required disposal. I looked around for an ashtray, but there were none. The old man sensing my dilemma said “just flick it on the ground”. “What about the butt?” I asked. “Don’t worry about the butts, the chairman has the Devil send up a crew of non-smokers to sweep up every night when you are sleeping.
Finally, after several more cigarettes the chairman himself walked over and sat down beside me and lit one up. He paused after several puffs and said “I’m sorry Chipmunk, but you have to go back for a while.” “What? I just got here, what’s the problem?” I replied. The boss said “Chip, you are just to long winded and your fur is unkempt, you would just be a distraction to others, but we will save a place for you”.
THE END
Posted by Vampire (anonymous) on January 22, 2008 at 7:26 p.m. (Suggest removal)
Chipmunk that was worth waiting for.
Posted by Redcloud (anonymous) on January 22, 2008 at 7:44 p.m. (Suggest removal)
What or who is an (eripsni)?
Posted by ffprofessor (anonymous) on January 22, 2008 at 9:18 p.m. (Suggest removal)
Chip, I’m glad you found your lost missive, I’ve always enjoyed your work, if not your punctuation..
Posted by Jerry (anonymous) on January 22, 2008 at 9:53 p.m. (Suggest removal)
Chip can everyone that comes back to life write like that or just chipmunks? I would try submitting it to the FFDJ, it is certainly better than the writer listed above. Maybe you were just hibernating and had a nice dream. Did you see the Marlboro Man when you were there?
Posted by chipmunk (anonymous) on January 23, 2008 at 9:21 a.m. (Suggest removal)
OK, Alan Linda, I decided to give your wink theory a test this morning. I went to the Viking Café for coffee and sat in the first booth by the front door. I theorized that an accurate test would be for me to wink at the female chips as they entered. I did not have to wait long. The first bombshell to enter was luvmyboys, as she neared my booth I cast a quick wink her way. To my surprise she stopped, smiled and asked about my tail, wondering if I used conditioner and if so what kind. We passed a pleasant few minutes, then she went on her way. I thought this stuff really works. A short time later minivanmom enters, ( a well reasoned and articulate woman) I winked at her. She paused and asked if I wanted to buy a used minivan and then produced a ream of documented reasons why I needed a minivan. She was so persuasive I bought it on the spot. Tracy and sweetpea came in together , I winked at them both and they winked back, then asked if they could pet my tail. In the interest of science I agreed. They giggled as they pet my tail and I thought this Alan Linda is a man who knows his science. The next female to cross the threshold of the Viking was non other than Freda herself, I was weary, I knew she was after me for a previous post of mine that she took exception to. Never the less, science requires some sacrifice on the part of its practitioners. I winked and said “Do you want to pet my tail?” My innocent remark was met with a fist so big it blocked my view of the Uptown barber shop and the sun. Before I knew what was happening, I was lying on the floor and Freda was stomping on my conditioned tail. To add insult to injury, with a single stroke she swept my tip money from the table into her massive hands and went on her way. I don’t know, maybe science works better in New York Mills than Fergus Falls.
Posted by sweetpea (anonymous) on January 23, 2008 at 10:03 a.m. (Suggest removal)
Chip, you said you would not tell.
Posted by tracy (anonymous) on January 23, 2008 at 12:44 p.m. (Suggest removal)
chipmunk rules!!!!!!!
Posted by lenny (anonymous) on January 23, 2008 at 1:06 p.m. (Suggest removal)
Chipmunk you nearly killed me, I was eating a cookie while reading about Freda and nearly choked to death laughing. Keep up the good posting.
Posted by BobWilliams (Bob Williams) on January 23, 2008 at 1:19 p.m. (Suggest removal)
Notice the use of the phrase "lung dart." I'll take that as an homage and have to agree with the other posters. *gasp* *shock* This Chip tale was the most interesting reading at this site today, if not the only. Well done.
Posted by andtongs (anonymous) on January 23, 2008 at 1:21 p.m. (Suggest removal)
Oh Boy, Oh Joy, another tidbit from the nitwit.
Posted by chipmunk (anonymous) on January 23, 2008 at 1:30 p.m. (Suggest removal)
Bob is right I should have attributed “lung dart” to the bobster. Credit, where credit is due. My only excuse is I didn’t want to anger Leona Helmsley anymore than necessary. I hear she has a long reach.
Posted by andtongs (anonymous) on January 23, 2008 at 1:39 p.m. (Suggest removal)
I guess we will see if minivanmom, luvmyboys and Freda feel so lucky to be included in a chiptale.
Posted by BobWilliams (Bob Williams) on January 23, 2008 at 2:32 p.m. (Suggest removal)
Poor tongs. The bitterness is overwhelming.
Actually, one Mr. Kenner is the originator of the Lung Dart. Now there's a funny story. But I don't want tongs to get all worked up because she didn't get included in another one.
Posted by mplsdude (anonymous) on January 23, 2008 at 10:18 p.m. (Suggest removal)
Chipmunk you slay me. But we still have not heard luvmyboys and minivanmoms version of the Viking events. It sounds like the Viking is a much livelier place than I remember, I’ll have to check it out the next time I’m in town.
Posted by sweetfergusgirl (anonymous) on January 24, 2008 at 8:52 a.m. (Suggest removal)
Chip, I have to commend you on your creative writing skills. But next time, leave the Viking Cafe out. It's a great place and does not belong in your ramblings.
Posted by chipmunk (anonymous) on January 24, 2008 at 9:14 a.m. (Suggest removal)
sweetfergusgirl, the Viking is a great place I go there often and I have never said anything derogatory about the Viking nor its wonderful employees. It is however a reference point that other posters can relate to and feel a sense of kinship with.
Posted by lenny (anonymous) on January 24, 2008 at 9:35 a.m. (Suggest removal)
Are you kidding me SFG? Was the Viking hurt by chips post? Talk about being super sensitive. I can’t believe you actually got a username just to post such a lame complaint.
Posted by luvmyboys (anonymous) on January 24, 2008 at 10:30 a.m. (Suggest removal)
Chipmunk...
Someone sent me an anonymous email and said "you should see the mean things chipmunk is saying about you in the "wink" article". Knowing this could NOT be true, I flew into the Journal website to read it and ready myself to pluck your tail fur one hair at a time. Low and behold, nothing was mean. And how, may I ask, did you know I was a "bombshell"??? You are good! *wink, wink*
Posted by chipmunk (anonymous) on January 24, 2008 at 10:39 a.m. (Suggest removal)
Luv, I can just guess who sent you an email. You can tell a lot about a person by the way they write, for instance I can tell you have a sense of humor and are well informed, and consider what you post before you commits it to writing. The bombshell thing…..I think is best kept secret.
Posted by sweetfergusgirl (anonymous) on January 24, 2008 at 12:14 p.m. (Suggest removal)
Chipmunk, I'm sorry about seeming so super sensitive about your post. I should have read it better.
Posted by Redcloud (anonymous) on January 24, 2008 at 3:41 p.m. (Suggest removal)
Me think chipmunk speak with little tongue, but make heap funny.
Posted by Jerry (anonymous) on January 24, 2008 at 9:04 p.m. (Suggest removal)
Chip I believe that "Chip Tales" would be a great name for a weekly article that you could write for the FFDJ. Just tell them that you must use only your pen name.
Posted by chipmunk (anonymous) on January 24, 2008 at 9:59 p.m. (Suggest removal)
Thanks Jerry, but I suspect writing a weekly article is much more difficult (when one is under the gun) than just shooting my mouth off when I get a wild hair. Besides, just how long do you think it would take before I was involved in a dispute with the editor or publisher.
Posted by ffprofessor (anonymous) on January 24, 2008 at 10:47 p.m. (Suggest removal)
Jerry, chip is doing exactly that now. The only difference is that chip does not draw a check and he does not use punctuation marks.
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