Greyhounds

The shoe is on the hand it fits,
there's really nothing much to it,
Whistle through your teeth and spit, 'cause, its alright.
Oh well a touch of grey,
kind of suits you anyway,
That's all I have to say, but, it's alright.

The Grateful Dead. My husband's long-time favorite. Over the years, I have heard a lot of The Dead (I think that is what you call them - just The Dead- if you are one of the cool kids). I immediately liked the music. I have always been drawn to lyrics that have been thought about (even if the thought process is aided - we all need inspiration) rather than lyrics by artists that write about whatever pops in their head and ends up being a horrible waste of time, i.e., "My Grillz." Nelly can do better than that - "It's Getting Hot in Here" - I bet he thought about the lyrics for that song a little longer. "Take off all your clothes" - it is a novel idea.

Even after being subjected to "Touch of Grey" by my hippy boyfriend (I called him "partner" at the time), now husband, I just did not like this song. I thought he was trying to brainwash me. Grey areas are important to many people. In my experience, males more so than females. I think it goes hand in hand with fear of commitment. For instance, after dating Peter for 3 months, I wanted (needed) to know what our status was. I am sure he thought I was probing too far into things, but really, it was just that I was going on spring break. Instead of a straightforward answer, I received this long mess about over-analyzing, pushing things, whatever it is supposed to be it will be. Understand? To me that meant we were not serious and definitely not boyfriend and girlfriend. If we were, he would have just said so, right? But let me come back from Mexico having kissed another boy and the situation was no longer so grey. Now things were perfectly clear- he was my boyfriend and there would be no more kissing other boys. A converted Greyhound.

I do not believe in "grey" - no shades of "grey" or "gray." Things are pretty clear in my mind - there are no colors washing together. I love some thing or I hate it, and I know very quickly which it is. Don't ask me again. I will not change my mind. Decisiveness is a virtue in my world. It takes me one visit to the car dealership and one test drive to buy a car. I do not need to study consumer reports to figure out which appliances I should have installed. I have never had guilt over breaking up with the lovely women and men who have cut my hair over the years - you mess it up, you are gone. If I mess up in my job, I get sued, so I have no problem breaking it off.

My first year of law school I found myself in a bad situation that was doomed to fail from the very beginning. I had a roommate in very close quarters - there was no wall dividing our space. Upon first meeting her, I thought there could not be a person in the whole world who did not like . . . Jane. She was sooo sweet. She loved nature - her dream was to practice environmental law. She volunteered on Sundays instead of going to church because she was sure that was what the creator wanted. She wasn't obsessed by her appearance (at least outwardly). She was soft spoken with the tone of a child. Approximately one month into the situation and I could not stand her! This was the one time in my life where I misjudged someone. I think I just wanted a new friend so badly that I was willing to shut off that no-miss, people-judging button. Yes, I am a judger. But not about bad things, I would never judge someone by the clothes they wear, how much or how little money they have, where they went to school (except for those preppie ivy school kids, it is usually inseparable from the overall picture - there are exceptions to every rule). It is judgment based on meeting a lot of people and that gut reaction that we all have. My gut just usually does a fantastic job. Not with Jane. Soon, that soft spoken childish voice was like nails on a chalk board. The environmentalist and volunteer girl were over played. And then she started crying to me about boy problems! Just like that, I broke up with her. That made sharing a room very awkward. Mutual friends asked me to change my mind (greyhounds), but I had already had told her (while drinking in excess) that we could no longer be friends. So that was that.

Grey simply does not exist in my color spectrum. Grey is for the hopelessly stuck. If a silver lining is seen, it is only because attention has been momentarily diverted. It is liberating to admit that some things really are black and white. Only after acknowledging "when its even worse than it appears, it's [not] alright" can you move beyond grey to red, purple, orange, or something even better.