Initial thoughts among the readership may be that I get up early, all spunky and full of vigor.
This is not the case. I need a minute or five. Ellie does, too.
I find myself waking up to echoes of her whisper groans emitting from the end of my bed; it’s a process.
If her needs are few, a grouchy admonition, asking for a few moments before I rise, usually holds off the more high-pitched whines that indicate she’s got business to attend to.
I always give her the option to go outside before I put myself to bed at night, and sometimes she takes me up on it. But more often than not, she opens her eyes and refuses to move off her bed on the floor of the living room.
Her look is one of, “I’m all set, leave me alone now,” if she doesn’t have outdoor needs. All that means is that she’s going to wake up a little earlier and psychologically work me over so that I roll out of bed and open the back slider.
She goes right back to bed after breakfast. It makes sense because she’s full and completely hydrated by four a.m. From there, the snoring starts. It’s clear to me that she sleeps better when I am up, in my chair, reading or listening to music. It feels, to me, that she has relinquished the overwatch position and sleeps more soundly because of it.
I digress.
It is these small hours of the morning that I peruse the Interwebs. Sometimes I find things of interest, but because I read the comments on many of my favorite posters’ content, I am reminded that the Internet is full of smarmy, smug wannabe English professors— people, full of themselves— making big asks of people who put themselves out there with some pretty good content.
I only point it out this morning because one thread, of a lady who lives off-grid with her husband in a small cabin in the north woods, became infested with people who didn’t like the grammatically incorrect way that she introduced a short video piece.
I followed the comment thread to find that it became a whole thing, one commenter mentioning that he wouldn’t follow her content anymore if she didn’t learn to use the proper tense in her phraseology.
Then, as one might expect on the Interweb, a gaggle of grammarian-Görings jumped in and repeated his concerns, as if one or two comments about her simple mistake were not enough.
I know I make mistakes, grammatically and phonetically sometimes. But there are people out there who make more and fewer, but that’s not what I notice as I review content for the pleasure of it all.
I read the words and listen to people’s trains of thought, hoping to easily glean the meaning of what they are trying to convey. It is what they convey that I am looking for. When you feel the need to correct incessantly like a snobbish, thoughtless cretin, you are not making anyone look stupid but your own self.
A better way to admonish, if you must (and you really don’t need to do so), would be a private message to the creator. Maybe wrap it in a bit of kindness, as if you really care that they sound better, rather than mostly caring about how smart you look.
Because, frankly, you suck when you are mean to people who are doing what they love and sharing. Especially people you deem much too simple for your tastes.
Mainers talk differently. We are, for the most part, rural people, and sometimes not educated to the level the outside world demands.
I like to think of myself as a pretty solid simpleton, but strangely, I understand most of the words I hear and read, no matter the order, or the number of misspellings and grammatical faux pas.
Correcting good people in unkind ways does nothing but make you look like an ass.
Scroll on by if you don’t like the way someone posts. You damage people by being increasingly corrective and downright mean.
The world is tough enough on all of us; people sometimes need a positive comment. Try that once in a while. You might be surprised by the joy that it brings you personally.
That’s all I’ve got today.
From the Jagged Edge of America, have an awesome Friday.
TC
P.S. Thank you for being supporters, readers, FB friends, BuyMeACoffee members, Subscribers, and friends of the page. You keep my train rolling. tc