Ben and Me_ From Temperance to Humility - Cameron Gunn [18]
TEMPERANCE
{CHAPTER 2}
Silence
Speak not but what may benefit others or yourself;
avoid trifling conversation
“YOU HAVE SOMETHING IN YOUR TEETH.”
From such sentiments are great romances born . . . or do visits to the dentist begin.
Okay, let me start this story with a little journey into my distant past. After finishing my undergraduate degree, I was making extra money as a bouncer/bartender at a local bar called the Chestnut. It was an interesting place that attracted a mostly blue-collar crowd, with the occasional bikers and, when the live band warranted, university students. On my first shift, after ejecting (gently, or so I had thought) a customer who was clearly unaware of Franklin’s virtue of Temperance, I was threatened with a switchblade. That same night, a female ejectee saluted us by hurling her stilettos at us from across the parking lot and pulling a moon.
{ Silence is not always a Sign of Wisdom, but Babbling is ever a folly.}
It was the best job I ever had.
The principal benefit of working at a place like the Chestnut was its war zone-like environment. There might have been disease, gun-fire, and the constant fear of death, but you formed a real bond with the guy beside you. Friendships, romances, and the occasional business partnership were borne of the shared jeopardy. From my short time at that bar, I met some of my closest friends and, more important, my future wife.
A close friend of Michelle’s was one of the prettier bartenders with whom I worked. Notwithstanding a long line of suitors (or perhaps because of it), she decided that instead of bringing a date to a staff party at a local lake, she would bring her friend.
The staff party was one of those “two roads in the wood” moments. I knew that I was interested in Michelle. She was beautiful, and in our one brief, previous conversation (or at least the one brief conversation I could remember), she seemed bright, but that was all I really knew about her. This was a chance to see if an initial flirtation might be worth a greater investment.
I thought it was going well until Michelle said, “Cameron.”
“Yes,” I replied, more than a little smitten.
“You have something in your teeth.”
How does one “more than a little smitten” respond to such a statement? I learned later that she said it because that is her nature. She says what she is thinking. That is who she is. When she doesn’t like her food, she sends it back; when the service is bad, she says so. When you have something in your teeth, she says, “You have something in your teeth.” (By way of example, when I read her this passage, she said, “I don’t remember it the way you tell it, and that’s not when I said you had something in your teeth.” We’ve agreed to disagree on this point. Go figure.)
Now I realize that Michelle simply understood the power of language. She told me that I had something in my teeth because she wanted her potential paramour to get said something out of his teeth. In doing so, she won a husband. I loved her, and love her still, because she uses language purposefully, not maliciously. I loved her because she told me I had something in my teeth. I love her still because I now know that she would never have told someone else that I had something in my teeth.
That’s the Silence that Franklin wanted. He wanted speech that mattered. He wanted Silence where talking had no purpose. He wanted his acolytes to speak only when it benefited themselves or others.
I was in trouble again.
Remember my self-assessment? I have, in medical terms, a big mouth. I like to talk. I think I inherited it from my mother (okay, I know I did, but my mother is going to read this, and I wanted to ease her into this little confession).
I take little comfort in the fact that I am not alone. North American culture is awash in gossip. There are entire magazines dedicated to news of the dating habits of people famous for being famous.