The Devil's Radio
That's such a great song. It so perfectly encapsulates the moment in 1988 when a relative called me, demanding to know "the truth" about a family member. They were sure I knew everything and was holding back. And yes, gossip is the Devil's radio.
You know how you can have those moments after the fact when you know exactly what you should have said? I knew what to tell her right then and this is an ideal I hold to this day. If you don't have firsthand knowledge of someone's story, it's a good bet that it's none of your business. That's what I told her and she hung up big mad. A month later, she called to tell me that this same relative and their partner at the time were telling everyone who would listen that I was a big ole lesbian, but she loved me anyway. Yeah, thanks. I'll sleep better with that knowledge.
This ticked me off for two reasons: A.) It's not even true and Doo.) If it was true, it would at least given me a scintilla of being interesting. I am the least interesting person in my biological family, so this was existential dry toast to choke on. There was the added wrinkle that my relative is not nearly as smart as she thinks she is. She was hoping I would get mad and start talking. No, Babygirl, the Kamchatka of evil genius is nowhere in sight of your back porch. Thanks for playing.
This nonsense went on for decades, with relatives getting together to shit talk anyone who wasn't there and then running to tattle on what was said. It gets old. And every time somebody gets mad at someone else, they choke down their dislike of me to see if I'm in the mood to spill some tea.
This never happens the way they hope it will. You know why? Let me make this plain. I don't like, much less love anyone involved. However, I have this ideal that people have a right to live their lives as they see fit. They have the right to do so without dealing with the judgement of people who have little or nothing to do with them. Everybody needs to just find the offramp from bothering me about it. Whatever you think might be the truth is none of my business. It's not any of your business. I don't care who did what and honest to goodness, I wish these people had never been a part of my life.
Maybe this was a byproduct of not having a working phone for nearly a week and then seeing the messages pour in after my carrier fixed what was ailing my Obama era mobile and replacing the iPhone with something civilized and intuitive. Did some of you make a resolution to be as big a jerk as you possibly could be to people who are just trying to move on with their lives? Did some gremlin intimate I would be your useful idiot? Probably and try again. They can continue to leave me alone and you can go away and go make people who give a damn about what you think cry.
Lose my number. Keep to your lane with your delusions of upper middle class status. Leave me alone.
I will stop channeling Lupus (from the good version of The Bad News Bears, the one with Walter Matthau and Tatum O'Neal) and being a gnarled little hate machine after I decide whether or not to publish this.
You know how you can have those moments after the fact when you know exactly what you should have said? I knew what to tell her right then and this is an ideal I hold to this day. If you don't have firsthand knowledge of someone's story, it's a good bet that it's none of your business. That's what I told her and she hung up big mad. A month later, she called to tell me that this same relative and their partner at the time were telling everyone who would listen that I was a big ole lesbian, but she loved me anyway. Yeah, thanks. I'll sleep better with that knowledge.
This ticked me off for two reasons: A.) It's not even true and Doo.) If it was true, it would at least given me a scintilla of being interesting. I am the least interesting person in my biological family, so this was existential dry toast to choke on. There was the added wrinkle that my relative is not nearly as smart as she thinks she is. She was hoping I would get mad and start talking. No, Babygirl, the Kamchatka of evil genius is nowhere in sight of your back porch. Thanks for playing.
This nonsense went on for decades, with relatives getting together to shit talk anyone who wasn't there and then running to tattle on what was said. It gets old. And every time somebody gets mad at someone else, they choke down their dislike of me to see if I'm in the mood to spill some tea.
This never happens the way they hope it will. You know why? Let me make this plain. I don't like, much less love anyone involved. However, I have this ideal that people have a right to live their lives as they see fit. They have the right to do so without dealing with the judgement of people who have little or nothing to do with them. Everybody needs to just find the offramp from bothering me about it. Whatever you think might be the truth is none of my business. It's not any of your business. I don't care who did what and honest to goodness, I wish these people had never been a part of my life.
Maybe this was a byproduct of not having a working phone for nearly a week and then seeing the messages pour in after my carrier fixed what was ailing my Obama era mobile and replacing the iPhone with something civilized and intuitive. Did some of you make a resolution to be as big a jerk as you possibly could be to people who are just trying to move on with their lives? Did some gremlin intimate I would be your useful idiot? Probably and try again. They can continue to leave me alone and you can go away and go make people who give a damn about what you think cry.
Lose my number. Keep to your lane with your delusions of upper middle class status. Leave me alone.
I will stop channeling Lupus (from the good version of The Bad News Bears, the one with Walter Matthau and Tatum O'Neal) and being a gnarled little hate machine after I decide whether or not to publish this.