Arrogance vs. Confidence

I've been thinking about conducting a random poll among friends and colleagues. The question? What does it feel like when you finally acknowledge you're wrong? Problem is, there's no good way to ask that question.

I've battled for years with thinking I know everything, when the truth is I know a little bit about a lot of things. Some topics I'm more versed in, but I'm no master in any one area. Even in writing and editing (my one true talent), I'm far behind the folks who actually call themselves a writer or editor. Chalk it up to a guy who had too many interests to bother with excelling in a single field.

Interestingly, despite my occasional cocky, know-it-all behavior, I'm like most folks with the same insecurities. Arrogance, to me, was always the sign of a very insecure person, and I suppose I'm somewhat guilty in that respect.

Be that as it may, I've yet to reach the point where I lump myself in with everyone else. More often than not, I shake my head in disbelief in watching the decisions people make, the lack of reasoning and common sense they exercise, and their insulting blank stares that seem to illustrate they really are completely unaware of their own stupidity.

But then I take a moment and wonder where I fit in with all of this. And while I know and acknowledge that I'm not infallible nor near as sharp as my mouth sometimes advertises, I cannot and will not back away from the stance that the overwhelming majority of Westernized beings are no more than living, breathing, consuming automatons who have lost site of what's real, courtesy of the lies they buy from the media and big business. Capitalism is great, and I won't walk away from it, but it ain't gonna eat my soul for breakfast.

So where does that leave me, and folks like you who are at least enlightened enough to realize the game for what it is? Obviously I can't speak for you, but here's what I know to be true about myself:

1. I'm still a slacker by nature, which means it's rather convenient for me to play armchair philosopher when it suits me.
2. I have enough confidence in the work I do and the life I lead that I won't hesitate to hand down my opinion as a mandate.
3. No, I most certainly do NOT know everything, and I think that's a problem.
4. By recognizing that I don't know everything, I sometimes fail to step up with confidence, speak my mind and take a position. Are you beginning to see the problem with this duality?
5. On occasion, I've been known to be wrong, and for the life of me I can't figure out how it happens.
6. Eloquence is not an excuse for mediocrity.

Do you recall the scene in Good Will Hunting when Robin Williams' character says something to the effect of "well at least I played a hand"? This sentiment is a defining statement in my life, and as it relates to the daily dirge we all face, I think it illustrates the primary difference between those who have it and those who don't.

I cannot stand Jennifer Lopez, but goddamn did she work her ass off to get to where she is today. Gwen Stefani is all Hollywood these days, but she's still the same kind and grounded suburban geek she was in the '80s, and few can question the hard work, stress and long hours she and the No Doubt boys put into their craft.

Bottom line is it doesn't matter how smart or talented or articulate or right you might be ... it don't mean jack if your brilliance lives in a vacuum. I mentioned Ben Franklin the other day, and I can't imagine too many people were more prolific than he was.

Clearly the issue here is I've done little with the gifts I've been given; the hostility and arrogance are likely defense mechanisms telling me that I'm still the shit. It's almost like drug addiction ... the dealer and his product are going to tell you what you want to hear, for the sole purpose of keeping you on as a customer. A lot of things in life are like that, which means the real challenge is to call bullshit for what it is.

Keep in mind I started this blog as a tool to expose the elements that purport to undermine us, and the truth is we're as guilty as anyone or anything in that endeavor. I could see where being jaded and eloquent would serve you well (anyone think Chomsky fits this description?), but add in a healthy dose of apathy and perhaps you have more in common with the homeless drunk down the street than you do with any of your anti-heroes.

For years, I thought the point was to do it better than the next guy, and if you couldn't make it better, don't bother. But now I realize it's really all about just doing it. Period. Damn those Nike bastards were right.