Discord

Let’s hope it doesn’t reach separation status. It’s an odd one though. My roommate and I disagreed on a topic (outside my eternal shortcomings) last evening for about the fourth or fifth topic in 47 years. It was silly, but aren’t most disagreements? Just think about the million upon millions of poor folks who have died over which mythology to believe.

Ours was even sillier.

It happened his way. We hardly ever watch sports on TV. We hardly ever watch sports period. As for TV, if it wasn’t for Turner Classic Movies and PBS, I’d probably sell the darned thing.

Anyway, steer me back to the point. She has decided, because of countless in-state adventures with her cousin Phyllis in Houston, and a great-grandfather who didn’t stop fleeing Kentucky until he crossed into the territory, that she is some sort of honorary Texan or such. Hence, we surfed upon the seventh game of this year’s World Series.

Lo and behold. It was between the Houston Astros and some team I had never heard of in my life. We locked on.

Then the trouble started. I noticed that, through TV magic, they now insert a rectangle around the batter’s crotch to show where the baseball goes after it is thrown. (Man, I had to study the structure of that sentence carefully. The apocryphal Dizzy Dean comment about the young couple watching the game kept sliding into my head.) Anyway …

 I was thinking, “Isn’t baseball on TV boring enough without displaying what the umpire is going to do before it happens? Watching and waiting for errors to occur is one of the few enjoyable pastimes left to mere mortals. Why are we suddenly eschewing human frailties? People like me want to know.

I was on the verge of proclaiming my insightfulness when her voice broke the silence. “I really like that little box that shows you what’s a ball and what’s a strike,” she said.

Oh, the horror! The horror!

I’ve learned to keep my opinion to myself over the years. I’ve learned to follow the Galilean’s advice to “agree with thine adversary quickly.” Why seek discord? Why annoy? Why make mountains out of molehills? Why sow rancor? Respect the opinions of others. Harmony is divine. Quarrels provide a feast for the Dark One. Smile. Be agreeable and history will judge you a sage.

“It’s the silliest damn thing I’ve ever seen,” I said.

Wrong way to express a contra-opinion, I found. Why didn’t I pay homage to the wisdom of Sheriff Marge Gunderson in Fargo and say, “I'm not sure I agree with you a hundred percent on your police work, there, ... .” It’s just not my style, anything that smacks of wisdom and forbearance.

“Idiot,” she observed.

“You’re a bigger one,” I countered.

Anyway, resolution evaded us. Luckily the Texas team folded like a two-dollar suitcase at that point and she retired in only a mild huff. On arising this morning before her, I read where one of the teams won the game, and the world series. It wasn’t hers.

I think I’ll let her sleep. I won't mention baseball all day. Armies have marched with less provocation.