8. THE PESSIMIST
David is a pessimist. He frowns a lot. He does not expect much good from people and life in general.
David works in an office for an insurance business. He sees a lot of people fork out a lot of money out of fear of misfortune. He hears about a lot of clients who meet with misfortune. Pessimism is good for one kind of business, at least, he often remarks to colleagues sardonically. “And doctors and undertakers, to boot,” is the normal cool reply if anyone ever answers. Generally, though, David’s voiced observation brings out creased foreheads, signs and downward gazes around him. He finds those responses satisfying in that they seem to affirm the truth as David perceives it.
David spreads the anti-love around wherever he goes. Clouds gather over the faces of those around him, and moods swing low.
Being pessimistic is one way to create order out of chaos and mystery, believes David. It is easier to take the position of a pessimist and give into gloom and doom than to struggle to search for the positive, he thinks. Trying to find logic from the perspective of optimism would take greater effort, so he firmly believes. “How can problems and tragedies be rationalized?” he wonders. One would be hard pressed to see the good in so many of life’s catastrophes as well as human failings, hardships and criminal doings. Therefore, David is committed to pessimism. It makes plain sense, to him because he considers that humans and their lives are mostly bad.
Why waste emotions and hope that things will work out well, or that humans will change themselves and things around them for the better? Why invest intellectually and emotionally in the belief that life will improve when little sign of it happening seems to appear. These are questions that dog David on a daily basis. He thinks it is draining to believe positively only to face more disappointments and tragedy. He has tried it for a few hours here and there, without favourable result. “Why then bother hoping? Why bother being good and trying to bring about good, if people and life do not respond or distort and exploit any benevolence to sour and spoil them?” he asks himself and others. To him, people are inherently and mostly self-serving, lazy, dull-minded, greedy and wrong, so he does not care.
David has given up on happiness as much as he has given up on humanity. He just wants to survive and enjoy a few comforts before he dies. Death will be the end, he considers. It will be all over when he dies. He will just be dust, in the end. His passing will be largely unnoticed, and lead nowhere, he thinks. His speck of a life will not stand out in the universe, of that he is certain. Why be so foolish as to believe otherwise?
David thinks most people are foolish and deluded. They are silly to strive for happiness, he thinks. People who look happy may revel in a short-lived and self-deluded euphoria which is soon after quashed or undermined by the negative. They eat to be happy, but the food poisons and kills them. They seek love only to be insulted or duped in return, as a rule. They seek fortune and fail, or gain illness and enemies. “How foolish!” muses David nearly every day.
The experience of joy is probably an effect of the body’s chemistry, anyway, so David imagines. Science is learning about it. Certain ideas and physical sensations set off chemical processes and reactions, creating an illusion of well-being, probably. Feelings of love are just the body fooling and betraying one’s best judgment, and lead to fundamentally bad partnerships, profound disappointments, anxiety, infections and pain, to his way of thinking.
David has been divorced twice. He never sees his son. He lives alone. His parents have both passed away. He never hears from his sister and nieces. He does not really have friends. There are just one lunch buddy and a couple of neighbors to hang around griping and bitching with.
David rarely travels, other than to take the short business trips around the country his job requires from time to time. Yes, he went abroad on two honeymoons: Greece one time and Hong Kong another. Those trips were all right for the sex and free time but travel was generally uncomfortable and inconvenient. Personal belongings got stolen, he and his wife got lost a few times, and the food and exhibits were not always enjoyable. They could not always communicate well and get what they wanted. They spent too much of his money, too, he thinks. Also, there were a couple of camping trips with his boy. They camper broke down one time and it poured heavily another. He just went through with the camping because he had heard it was the correct thing to do when a main has a son. However, he decided a long time ago that travel is too much trouble and therefore not worth the money, effort and time. He would rather stay put.
David likes routine. It is safer that way, he figures. Regardless, it is more convenient.
The more David dwells on his doubts for the future and mankind, and the more he anticipates problems and disappointments, the more he needs to cling to his routine and his set identity as a pessimist. The chaos, uncertainty and inevitable unhappiness and discomforts of life tend to crowd him and grind him down unless he keeps up a galvanized defense.
David has been experiencing an acidic stomach, frequent indigestion, bouts of excessive flatulence, anxiety attacks, insomnia, thinning hair, weight fluctuations, psoriasis, periodic fevers, intermittent constipation, headaches, and inexplicable fatigue at times. He looks older than his age of 44. Healthcare and fitness are not priorities for him, though. Beyond taking a multivitamin tablet daily, with an extra dose of vitamin C during the cold months, he sees little point in working hard on his appearance and health. He buys fresh fruit and vegetables and refrains from going overboard with the meat. He does not smoke and drinks modestly. He tries to keep himself and his place very clean. He owns a stationary cycling machine and uses it sometimes, and does take walks. That is as much effort as David is willing to make at health and fitness. He believes that it is best to “accept the hand that nature has dealt” and not fight a lack of good looks.
Actually, he started out a handsome young man with warm brown eyes, thick wavy chestnut hair and a nice build, which attracted his first wife. Yet, David does not look back at the past much.
Once, though, when he was collecting his belongings so as to move out of his home for the third time since leaving his family’s home for college, he came across his high school year book and some photo albums. He was a little startled to see his name under some photos of the good looking smiling boy. Caught off guard, he asked himself there had not been some mistake with the labeling and placement of the photos.
“Well, of course, youth shines,” he reminds himself. “It is new. That does not last forever, though. We all age and our looks change. That was then and this is now.” He glances up at a mirror in for support.
Of course, a sedentary job in an office environment does not help. His complexion has paled, grey hairs and lines have started to appear, and he has developed a paunch. Seated in the vicinity of this unappealing grouchy underwriter who only ever seems cheery when turning down claimants, the women usually ask to be resituated at least, but would prefer to be reassigned. The men except for his one partner in pessimism have learned to keep small talk to a minimum and chosen to avoid him. Whenever bristles have chaffed too much, one of them has asked to be reassigned or transferred, too.
He has been working for this firm in the same office for fifteen years. “It is best to stay in one place and build your salary and savings, rather than risk it by switching in mid-careers,” answers David to anyone who happens to ask if he has ever considered doing something different.
Yes, David does not like change. He certainly does not like changing. “Why get your hopes up? You might be able to change your motions or redecorate but life will defeat you, anyway. You cannot change people and life.” He balks at the simplest adjustments. When new policies and procedures come down the pipes from the bosses above, he grumbles and spits resentment. He also hates it when something breaks down and needs replacing.
Over time, the negativity that he himself engenders continues to eat away at David’s soul and body. When the employer enforces a requirement to get an annual check-up one year—also necessary to satisfy the requirements of the company’s free life insurance that employees enjoy--the physician bears a warning for David. (He is a new young hotshot.) “You’ve gained weight and your blood pressure’s climbing. Oh, and I see you getting varicose veins. You should take better care of yourself.”
“Huh? Aw, I hadn’t noticed. It’s not all that bad, is it? I mean, I’m middle aged and I’m a white collar guy…”
“You don’t have to let yourself go. It says here you walk and use a stationary bike. Is that so? How often?”
“Um. Well, I walk part way to work and I walk around the city to do my errands and all that on the weekends. I get on the bike sometimes, like in the evening while watching TV and on a rainy weekend.”
“Really. How long do you walk for? How long do you cycle?”
“I’m sure I walk around at least 30 minutes on Saturdays. Probably more. On the bike? I guess I do 15 or 20 minutes on it, usually.”
“But you don’t usually ride it. And 30 minutes of walking one day a week is not enough. You ought to do at least that every day, the walk or bike. As for your blood pressure, I’d say you are developing high blood pressure. You need to bring it down. Exercise is good for that. You under stress at work?”
“Not really. They do checks, and watch the pennies but I have a good track record. No problem there.”
“Something else bothering you?”
“Uh…”
“How’s your love life?”
“What? Oh, I’m not seeing anyone. You know, I have been divorced twice. I’m taking a break.”
“I think it’s been a terribly long break. You’re still a young guy. Take care of yourself, lose a few pounds and find a woman. I’m not ordering you to get married. A relationship would be healthy, is all.”
“Mm.”
“What do you do for fun?”
“Fun? Hey, I work long hours. There’s enough to do. I hang out with a couple of friends, go out to a movie or a meal sometimes.”
“You should find a hobby or some club or other. That will help you to relax and stay balanced.”
“Balanced? You’re saying I need balance? But my life is all about balance—“
“Not from what I can see here. You need more of a social life. You need exercise and recreation. How about getting a dog?”
“No, dogs. No, thanks.”
“Then think of something you would like. Okay. That’s all. Time’s up. I’ve patients waiting.
“The nurse has a pamphlet for you. It says to cut down on salt and sugar. I’d take that advice if I were you.
“By the way, the nurse will set up an appointment with a cardio vascular specialist to look into your blood pressure and venal condition. There are new treatments. In the meantime, raise your legs for about twenty minutes every evening after work. Get on the bike every day for 30 minutes. Watch what you eat. Time to go now.”
David is irked by this exchange. Yeah, he knows his stomach is bulging and he wished his skin looked a bit better. Varicose veins? In the restroom, he pulls up his pant legs. Sure enough, he notices bluish-purplish bulges on his lower legs. Well, sitting with his legs up for awhile will be nice and he’s sure he can manage a 30 minute routine on the bike. He has plenty of time for it. Actually, he does have too much time. Maybe the doctor is right. He should find a hobby, he reflects. As for an involvement with a woman, he does not want it. He likes his tidy life and does not want a woman invading it and messing it up.
David manages to adapt to most of the doctor’s recommendations. Very aware that he could die anytime, he nonetheless concurs that freshening up his habits and appearance is worthwhile for the sake of coping with existence. Getting on his bike every day becomes part of his routine. His meals include green salads and fruit more often. He takes to listening to a fine selection of classical music with legs raised with the lights turned down low after his exercise and shower every evening. Avoiding unsettling reading, television programs and films just before bedtime, he watches innocuous nature or technology programs instead late in the evening, often with a glass of warm milk or herbal tea. All that is not so hard, he realizes.
David soon discovers he is looking and feeling better. His waist shrinks and he sleeps more soundly.
Subsequently, David searches for an appropriate hobby. He consults his buddies. “What should I do?” he asks them. “Any ideas for me?”
“Heh. I guess it won’t be golf or swimming, eh?” says Ed with a slight grin. The other two chuckle a little.
“Hm. Ya like makin’ stuff?” It’s Al.
“What like cooking, or electronics or furniture?” asks David.
“Whatever,” is the curt reply.
There’s a pause and Ed starts tapping the table with the tip of his index finger, as he tends to do.
“Well, what d’you guys do in your spare time? You got hobbies?” asks David with real interest.
“Uh, I do puzzles sometimes,” says Al, and goes on to release further disclosure. “I used to make model boats. Got too many boats at home now, and can’t do anything with ‘em, so I quit that. We’ve got a computer at home, but I’m on it too much at work already, so I don’t want to use it when I get home. It’s just convenient to have it, sometimes, and Sue enjoys fiddling around with it.”
“I see. Yeah—no, I don’t want to do computer stuff at home, either. What about you, Ed.?”
“Me? I used to play the guitar, but it started to annoy the wife. Guess I’m not that good and I don’t sing. We had a dog we trained for a while, and even entered him in a local show or two. We used to like that. We don’t have the dog anymore. Patsy enjoys her sewing group nowadays. She makes stuff for the house and her folks and friends. Let’s see. These days, I like documentaries on history, and I’ve been getting some books on history and biographies.”
“Hm. I don’t think I want a hobby that requires thinking so much. I mean, sometimes I get into a good informative book or film and it’s okay, but I don’t want to do that all the time.”
The conversation lags again. They order more beverages, and Ed resumes his table tapping.
“I like cooking. I mean, I enjoy making my meals at home after work and on the weekend,” confesses David.
“Nothing wrong with cooking. Lotsa men do it. Cooking’s okay. What do you want to cook? Like, gourmet food?”
“Nah, just ordinary stuff. Healthy stuff, though. Doctor’s orders. Some desserts, too, I guess, once in a while. Yeah, that’d be okay. …Wonder what else I might like to make?
“I heard a lota guys are into Lego, these days,” offers Ed.
Al perks up a bit. “Yeah, that’s right. If it’s not computer or video games, it’s Lego. You just order the stuff or find it at a store, and it comes with plans and you can make all sorts of stuff.”
“Lego. Hm. Yeah, that sounds all right. Not too difficult. That might be fun,” replies David, enunciating the word “fun” carefully like it was a foreign word.
“There are clubs, too, you know,” adds Al. “Lego clubs that—“
“Wait. Hold on, there. I didn’t say anything about a club.”
“You just go online and---“
“No, I don’t think so.”
“Didn’t you doctor emphasize getting a social life?”
“Yeah, you’re right. He did.”
“How about you starting your own club, then?”
“What? With whom?”
“Well, if it’s just a couple of times a month, I’d do Lego building with ya.”
“Oh. You would? That’d be okay. Yeah, why not? Start my own thing. What do you say, Ed?”
“Uh, I suppose. Yeah, it’d be nice to get outta the house sometimes. You mean, visit you, have a beer and what not?”
“Sure.”
“All right.”
When David goes to his appointment for the six-month follow-up, the doctor is pleased to hear David’s improved physical condition and his update about his new hobbies and social club. “What do you know? Maybe there is hope for you, after all,” he jokes pleasantly.
After his appointment that same day, David makes his way to a department store where he wants to pick up some herbs and condiments on the food floor, then go up to look at the latest Lego kits. He has to cross the center of town by bus, then walk about three blocks. David has become used to this sort of outing. It used to be a rare thing for him to venture downtown, but now he goes a few times a month. He still wears his sturdy walking boots and rain jacket, just in case, and walks cautiously with shoulders a bit hunched and eyes averted, but he is no longer so grim looking. A scowl is hardly ever seen on his face, these days.
David finds that going out is still full of challenges. He encounters incompetency and faulty planning everywhere. The city is full of hazards, each one waiting to devour him, he thinks. However, he is readier to meet those challenges. He starts to feel slightly more confident, and even gets to feeling cheery. He is seen smiling at a person here and there.
On this particular day, David trips on someone’s dangling coat belt while on the escalator, but he saves his footing and manages to kick the belt end away from the seam of the escalator steps as it rises to the top of the stairway. He simply scoops up the end of the belt and hands it to the (“dimwitted”) person ahead of him without a word and carries on. Subsequent to that incident, he is browsing through cookbooks, when he is accused of looking at the book too long by a tall thin young security guard who forces him to purchase the book. It is a good book, anyway, and he did let it absorb him to intensely, so he does not mind buying it. However, it is the security guard who takes the book to the counter, David following, and drops the thing on a customer’s foot when he fumbles the pass to the assistant cashier. The surprised customer turns around and meets David’s face while the security guard says loudly, “You should be more careful,” and narrows his eyes at David in an exaggerated fashion. David shrugs and says nothing. In a separate incident, he narrowly avoids being scalded when someone in the food court unthinkingly spins abruptly around, arm extended and hand bearing a hot take-out cup of coffee. David’s preparedness and quick footing prevents an unfortunate accident. There were some five close calls in all that day.
A cloth bag full of a new purchase of Lego products and food over his shoulder and tucked under his arm for more security, David is standing at the bus stop waiting to get on the bus that will take him to back to his neighbourhood, when a young women with a very young infant approaches the bus shelter. David steps back to let her under the shelter and out of the wind. When her bus stops, she is struggling to get in line and reach for her bus card with the infant strapped to her chest and a couple of bags in one hand, free hand in her pocket. She does not realize that she has dropped her bus card on the sidewalk. David notices. He usually hangs back and lets some other “fool” step forward to offer help, but this time is different. David does something he has not done since he was a teenager. He is the one who steps forward to offer assistance.
“You dropped your card, Ma’am,” he says, his voice somewhat raspy.
“What?”
“Here.” David bends down and picks up the card for her.
“Oh, thank you,” she replies with a bounce so as to adjust the weight of the baby on her small frame, and tug at a shoulder strap with the hand that has just received the misplaced card. She turns to file into the bus, but a couple of kids squeeze in front of her.
David steps up to the bus to clear the way. “Uh, woman with baby here. Let her through, won’t you?” He actually steps up into the bus just above the sill and motions people to keep a mother’s seat free. Getting back out, he is jostled twice, the second time by the woman hurrying to get herself, the infant and her belongings onto the bus, so that he slips his grip on his shopping bag a bit. He pushes away from the queue to stand back. He is too late noticing that his bus has rolled up behind this one that the woman and baby have boarded and is already departing. He makes a couple of rapid paces forward as the bus is passing, raising an arm to wave, but it is too late. It is at that point that a couple of items fall out of his shopping bag.
Now, he is frowning his familiar frown. A tin rolls out onto the asphalt. Aroused by frustration and annoyance, he hurriedly and negligently follows it. A speeding car flattens him.
His Lego club friends, of which there are now five, cannot figure out how this man they thought they had come to know as overly cautious could have wound up being hit by a car during the course of a normal outing to do some errands in the city. They are still puzzled to this day. The police had no explanation, for no witness had come forward.
They post a brief obituary. In it, they remark that “this was a man who had yet to reach his full potential.”
END