Irony and the lack thereof
Did you know that my graduate advisor thought I was one of those ironic hipster youths who can't appreciate anything and can only fake like things because I can't commit to actually trying to apprciate something, let alone liking it? I know I've played that role to a degree in the past, but part of why I felt the need to run off to Alaska was an effort on my part to break out of that role, to break my physical proximity to that role. I think my own brother has even implied on occasion that I am overly concerned with being cool that I do not let myself enjoy things that are uncool (I could be wrong about that, though). I think these are true about me, but only to a degree, and I really think I'm far more sincere than people realize. Probably partly because I sound terribly insincere the more sincere I am. It's like my anti-superhero power.
I've called for the death of irony before because I am tired of the posturing and the inability to, in the words of Slate writer Mike Malloy, "earnestly appreciate something for its intrinsic worth again." I'm tired of slouchy boots and sweater dresses. I'm tired of ugly being the new hot, of orange being the new pink, of, I don't know, a lot of things that aren't even ironic anymore because people have forgotten it was ironic to begin with.
That said, I'm having some trouble with the utter lack of irony, as housed in a coworker of mine. Her existence is troubling to me because while I think she has done interesting things and experienced a lot in life, and while we share similar political beliefs and a fondness for theater, I can't stand to be around her. Not one bit. I grow more and more aggravated throughout the day and it's affecting my work productivity. I know this is all on me; she's just going about her day and I'm silently seething, turning into a stinking blob of annoyed. She has a way of popping into every conversation, always trying to be a part of the fun crowd. Which I understand, we're not really an exclusionary office, and I think everyone but me appreciates her zest for life.
Ah, her completely unironic zest for life. When something reminds her of a song, she'll sing it for you. Not just a bar or two so you can get the idea, but the entire song. Her spontaneous music recitals have always reminded me of the way Samwise Gamgee from The Lord of the Rings would recite poetry, with his hands behind his back, all serious and formal for the occasion. We can't make it through a staff meeting, or lunch, or a water cooler conversation without hearing a song. It drives me crazy.
But you see, now I'm worried, insecure, unsure. Is it annoying to me because it is extremely uncool? Were my advisor and others correct by saying that I can't enjoy anything remotely uncool? Would I appreciate her singing in the office, hell, would I join in if I weren't so worried about my image? Would it not bother me, or at least not bother me in the same way if she were singing ironically? Why do I think it's so awful for her to just break out into song whenever the hell she feels like it? Don't we all sort of want to do that? Why don't we? Are we all too afraid to tarnish our "cool"? Is there a time and place for this--like maybe it's ok to break out into song with your good friends and family but not so much with your professional colleagues? But then why is that? Is the business world afraid of being seen earnestly appreciating singing in the office? Or maybe it's just really annoying to being singing ditties from musicals while people are trying to work and it has nothing to do at all with being aloof or cool but with just trying not to go insane. I know I'm probably having a disprortionate reaction to this woman, but how long would you hold up if the person in the cubicle next to you broke out into song and dance three times a day for the last 7 months you've been working together?
Oh, and you know what just occured to me? She'll probably find this blog and read it and get upset and it'll go to HR and I'll have to be the "I didn't know my public online blog was being read, etc." fool. Sigh. I can't win.
I've called for the death of irony before because I am tired of the posturing and the inability to, in the words of Slate writer Mike Malloy, "earnestly appreciate something for its intrinsic worth again." I'm tired of slouchy boots and sweater dresses. I'm tired of ugly being the new hot, of orange being the new pink, of, I don't know, a lot of things that aren't even ironic anymore because people have forgotten it was ironic to begin with.
That said, I'm having some trouble with the utter lack of irony, as housed in a coworker of mine. Her existence is troubling to me because while I think she has done interesting things and experienced a lot in life, and while we share similar political beliefs and a fondness for theater, I can't stand to be around her. Not one bit. I grow more and more aggravated throughout the day and it's affecting my work productivity. I know this is all on me; she's just going about her day and I'm silently seething, turning into a stinking blob of annoyed. She has a way of popping into every conversation, always trying to be a part of the fun crowd. Which I understand, we're not really an exclusionary office, and I think everyone but me appreciates her zest for life.
Ah, her completely unironic zest for life. When something reminds her of a song, she'll sing it for you. Not just a bar or two so you can get the idea, but the entire song. Her spontaneous music recitals have always reminded me of the way Samwise Gamgee from The Lord of the Rings would recite poetry, with his hands behind his back, all serious and formal for the occasion. We can't make it through a staff meeting, or lunch, or a water cooler conversation without hearing a song. It drives me crazy.
But you see, now I'm worried, insecure, unsure. Is it annoying to me because it is extremely uncool? Were my advisor and others correct by saying that I can't enjoy anything remotely uncool? Would I appreciate her singing in the office, hell, would I join in if I weren't so worried about my image? Would it not bother me, or at least not bother me in the same way if she were singing ironically? Why do I think it's so awful for her to just break out into song whenever the hell she feels like it? Don't we all sort of want to do that? Why don't we? Are we all too afraid to tarnish our "cool"? Is there a time and place for this--like maybe it's ok to break out into song with your good friends and family but not so much with your professional colleagues? But then why is that? Is the business world afraid of being seen earnestly appreciating singing in the office? Or maybe it's just really annoying to being singing ditties from musicals while people are trying to work and it has nothing to do at all with being aloof or cool but with just trying not to go insane. I know I'm probably having a disprortionate reaction to this woman, but how long would you hold up if the person in the cubicle next to you broke out into song and dance three times a day for the last 7 months you've been working together?
Oh, and you know what just occured to me? She'll probably find this blog and read it and get upset and it'll go to HR and I'll have to be the "I didn't know my public online blog was being read, etc." fool. Sigh. I can't win.
I wonder what my graduate advisor thinks of me -- it might be interesting to know. She hasn't shared.
Posted by
Sig. |
9:01 PM
There may have been a time when I thought you too concerned with cool, but that was before blogs and their windows to your inner thoughts. No need to worry on that account. As for breaking out into song at random, I can see that getting annoying. Particularly if it's a song that a) you don't know or b) you don't find yourself in a position to join because you've got a lot of work or whatever. And by the way, doggedly cheerful dispositions get on my nerves, too. I blame it on Dad.
Posted by
Arn |
9:16 PM
I think I would totally hate her, but really I'm just jealous because that's totally what I want to do, except exclusively with Carpenters songs. Maybe with a little John Denver thrown in every now and then for some variety. Because, when you think about it, is there any situation in which "I Know I Need to Be in Love" is NOT appreciated? Or a double header of "Top of the World" and "Goodbye to Love?" In my head, where I reign supreme, there is not.
Posted by
T-Rex |
11:19 PM
My dear, let me share something with you. Someone very close and very dear to me does this exact same thing. And it wasn't until he heard his dad do the exact same thing that he actually quit singing the entire song.
So, this is my suggestion for you, tell her to stop. Gently. That you appreciate her fine singing voice - because I'm sure it is fine, but it is a little...aggrevating? Because using the word annoying would be too much for her.
Don't want to do that? How about finding out if anyone else is bothered by this as well. Make a unified front against it, but gently.
Oh, I'll buy you a coke if you can guess who I was talking about earlier! :)
Posted by
Paperback Writer |
12:39 PM
I frequently want to break into song, and do, but I would never, ever sing the entire show-tune to colleagues. Mostly because I don't tend to break into show tunes, but the fact remains. That's f'ing annoying. Three times a day? I would be trying to kill her by now. It's work. You're there because you get paid. It's not summer camp for the arts. It's not, as you point out, home. I think i'd give myself one month of thinking she was charming. After that, I think I'd let her cross the street in front of me, against the light, at lunchtime.
Posted by
EDW |
10:27 PM
I solved this problem a long time ago. I decided that I am the coolest person I know. So, by default, if I like it, it's WAY cool. And if I don't like it, it's totally UNcool.
That's the way things work on Planet Jim.
;-]
Posted by
Jim McKee |
2:31 PM
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