Lowering Expectations - My Philosophy of Life
Posted: October 23rd, 2008, 8:48 am
I should honestly charge vast sums of money for the secrets I will divulge in today's post but I am not currently set up to receive donations. I would consider it sufficient payment if the reader would render a kind word or deed to a friend or stranger.
You have probably noticed that society tends to make allowances for those of us with limited abilities. I refer to this as "The Principle of Lowered Expectations". It has taken me the better part of four decades to recognize the vast potential for exploiting this quirky aspect of human behavior. Once I discovered it, I determined that I would milk this cow dry. I now view it as an art form. My method for exploiting this principle goes like this: Society expects us to live up to our potential. Reduce their perception of your potential and their expectations are easily exceeded. Despite what you might initially think, it takes a great deal of effort to reach the level of under-achievement necessary for such a change in perception. It takes time and you really have to work at it. You can't settle for mediocrity.
But this ability comes easier for some than for others. If you are an astute observer, you might have noticed that two main groups generally receive the benefit of the doubt regarding lowered expectations. These are the simpletons and the highly educated. The rest of us unfortunate souls are caught in the middle. For the simpletons, limited potential is something they're born with. For the highly educated, it is a learned skill. I think it is offered as a course in college. Among the highly educated, my dad demonstrated his superior skills early on and at critical points in his marriage to my mother. He wisely applied the same method outlined above to two broad categories in life. Cooking, and home repairs.
One memorable evening my siblings and I were left alone with only my father to prepare supper. Rest assured, it was the last supper we ever asked him to cook. Thick cold slabs of bloated, dingy yellow squash sat lifeless on our plates. Needless to say, that night we went to bed hungry. I still wonder sometimes, on rainy days, how he was able to make squash retain that much water. To cook food that unappetizing must have required a level of skill that I can't even begin to imagine. In the category of home repairs, no broken appliance in our house could ever escape the feigned attempts by dad, wielding a butter knife from the kitchen, to repair it. But I was young then, and gullible. I now realize the strategy he was employing of lowering expectations and I have embraced it as my own.
For example, four years ago I purchased a used truck. Should I ever decide to wash it I think it is quite likely that the small town where I live will throw a parade in my honor. Until then, I will just continue to drive real fast when it rains. On another occasion my friend Rian noticed a bachelor's degree hanging on the wall in my office. His face literally grew pale. I thought he was going to faint. I tried to remove it and disclaim it as quickly as possible, but I'm afraid I was too late. I guess in his case I'd overdone it a little. I've since replaced it with a crooked set of puny deer antlers that no self-respecting deer hunter would have ever killed, much less have mounted.
Out of guilt, I discussed this deformed and distorted philosophy of life with my Pastor, Ed Hauser, hoping he could dissuade me from this deceptive practice. But even he seems to have fallen prey to its corrupting influence. Thinking I wouldn't notice, he no longer describes anything in glowing terms lest my expectations ascend to lofty heights. Upon his return from recon missions to scout out new lunch spots, all I get is a muffled grunt that the food was 'O.K.' or 'edible'. I also noticed the other day that his Ford Focus could really use a bath.
"Hitch your wagon to a star" wrote Emerson. Forget the star I say. Hitch your wagon to a stump. Aim low in life. That way you're sure to meet your goals and certain not to disappoint. Who knows, maybe by living up to half your potential you might gain a reputation as an over-achiever!
You have probably noticed that society tends to make allowances for those of us with limited abilities. I refer to this as "The Principle of Lowered Expectations". It has taken me the better part of four decades to recognize the vast potential for exploiting this quirky aspect of human behavior. Once I discovered it, I determined that I would milk this cow dry. I now view it as an art form. My method for exploiting this principle goes like this: Society expects us to live up to our potential. Reduce their perception of your potential and their expectations are easily exceeded. Despite what you might initially think, it takes a great deal of effort to reach the level of under-achievement necessary for such a change in perception. It takes time and you really have to work at it. You can't settle for mediocrity.
But this ability comes easier for some than for others. If you are an astute observer, you might have noticed that two main groups generally receive the benefit of the doubt regarding lowered expectations. These are the simpletons and the highly educated. The rest of us unfortunate souls are caught in the middle. For the simpletons, limited potential is something they're born with. For the highly educated, it is a learned skill. I think it is offered as a course in college. Among the highly educated, my dad demonstrated his superior skills early on and at critical points in his marriage to my mother. He wisely applied the same method outlined above to two broad categories in life. Cooking, and home repairs.
One memorable evening my siblings and I were left alone with only my father to prepare supper. Rest assured, it was the last supper we ever asked him to cook. Thick cold slabs of bloated, dingy yellow squash sat lifeless on our plates. Needless to say, that night we went to bed hungry. I still wonder sometimes, on rainy days, how he was able to make squash retain that much water. To cook food that unappetizing must have required a level of skill that I can't even begin to imagine. In the category of home repairs, no broken appliance in our house could ever escape the feigned attempts by dad, wielding a butter knife from the kitchen, to repair it. But I was young then, and gullible. I now realize the strategy he was employing of lowering expectations and I have embraced it as my own.
For example, four years ago I purchased a used truck. Should I ever decide to wash it I think it is quite likely that the small town where I live will throw a parade in my honor. Until then, I will just continue to drive real fast when it rains. On another occasion my friend Rian noticed a bachelor's degree hanging on the wall in my office. His face literally grew pale. I thought he was going to faint. I tried to remove it and disclaim it as quickly as possible, but I'm afraid I was too late. I guess in his case I'd overdone it a little. I've since replaced it with a crooked set of puny deer antlers that no self-respecting deer hunter would have ever killed, much less have mounted.
Out of guilt, I discussed this deformed and distorted philosophy of life with my Pastor, Ed Hauser, hoping he could dissuade me from this deceptive practice. But even he seems to have fallen prey to its corrupting influence. Thinking I wouldn't notice, he no longer describes anything in glowing terms lest my expectations ascend to lofty heights. Upon his return from recon missions to scout out new lunch spots, all I get is a muffled grunt that the food was 'O.K.' or 'edible'. I also noticed the other day that his Ford Focus could really use a bath.
"Hitch your wagon to a star" wrote Emerson. Forget the star I say. Hitch your wagon to a stump. Aim low in life. That way you're sure to meet your goals and certain not to disappoint. Who knows, maybe by living up to half your potential you might gain a reputation as an over-achiever!
Except to say you might want to think about finding a new church!