Midweek Musings: Opinions

and why it's often best to keep one's mouth shut

I worked on four different posts thinking one would be my midweek musing. But as it turns out, midweek musings don’t happen until…well, midweek. So I give you my musings on an event that actually happened this morning.

I’m three days into a three week stay with my brother in Little Rock. Post transplant, he must stay close to the hospital for a couple of months.¹ So we’re hanging out at this great apartment he landed with the help of Goodness Village.²

We’ve been making the trek over to the Cancer Institute each morning for labs and infusions. When we arrived today, I noticed an older man seemed to be staring at me in the parking lot and again as we waited for an elevator. I wondered if he thought he recognized me or if I had a stream of toilet paper attached to my shoe.

Van had already gone up to check in for his appointment, and after we entered the elevator the man said, “I’m kinda old-fashioned, but are you married?”

There was a woman with him (his wife??). Things got a bit awkward.

“Yes, sir. I am.”

Then things got really awkward.

“Well, when you get home, have your husband buy you some new pants because those look worn out.” 

The offensive clothing

I raised one artfully penciled eyebrow.³

“Well, I bought these myself. And I have a job. In fact, I make more money than my husband.”⁴

He kind of laughed, but he clearly thought my jeans were inappropriate and wanted to make sure I knew his opinion.

You know what Harry Callahan said about opinions.

I know several people who make such comments in a joking-not-joking manner. I’m sure you’ve been around some of them too. That uncle who comes around for Thanksgiving and makes everyone uncomfortable at the dinner table. The cousin who rants loudly in public. A friend who feels they possess a license to be nasty to anyone who dares get their order wrong. Feel free to add to this list in the comments.

I actually felt sorry for the woman with him—she looked as though she wanted to exit said elevator immediately. Thankfully, she only had to wait a few more seconds for the door to open to their intended floor.

After the door closed, a fourth passenger looked at me and say, “He just doesn’t understand that’s the fashion.”

“At 47 years old, I figure I’ve earned the right to wear whatever I damn well please.”⁵

I’m declaring tomorrow ripped jeans day (or whatever other “inappropriate” clothing is in your closet). Please wear yours and go annoy the heck out of all the curmudgeons. Bonus points and an appearance in my next post if you send pics of your distasteful attire to hollyrabalais@substack.com.

And let this be a reminder to us all to think before we speak.

1. If you missed the cancer story, check it out here:

On Being a Stem Cell Donor (Part 1)

2. https://www.goodnessvillage.org/

3. If you didn’t catch my bit on eyebrows, check it out:

Midweek Musings

4. I really wanted to zing him like Joe.

5. For the record, I messaged both of my best friends about this incident and they quickly returned photos of their attire—one pair of ripped jeans and one pair of cut-off jean shorts.