Is It Just Me?: Or is it Nuts Out There? Page 4

  You asked for it . . . and they gave it to you. If you’re angry or embarrassed, deal with it. Do not fire back at this person. People do it. That happens. A lot. And it is the worst manners in the world. Why would you do that? This person is already in a tough position . . . And know what? It’s one you put him in because you asked for this favor.

  One of the best criticisms I ever got was from Mike Nichols. While I was running through my one-woman show before we opened on Broadway, he cleared his throat—as only he can do—and he said, “Um, Miss Goldberg . . .” And I said, “Yes, yes, Mr. Nichols?” And he said, “Is there an end to this story? You’re just meandering.” I said, “. . . Well, yes, there is an end to this story.” And he said, “Yes, and you passed it. And so, obviously, you weren’t listening to what you were saying because you would have heard the end of your story.”

  And he was right. I had gotten where I needed to go, and then I was meandering. He was saying pay attention. And I was paying attention to him. That’s Mike Nichols. He’s like those old E. F. Hutton commercials. When he speaks, actors listen.

  But it’s really about you paying attention to yourself too, and listening. And being honest with yourself. I try to be. I’m not always. I refuse to believe that I’m not six two. I can tell myself I’m five four all I want to, I don’t believe it.

  Chapter 13

  A Civil Person’s Handy List: Things to Tell People Who Put You on the Spot

  We all get stuck in that awkward place. You get boxed into sitting through a friend’s recital, or their improv showcase, or after dinner they drag you into the basement to look at their artwork, which turns out to be sixty oil paintings of toreadors on black velvet.

  “Well? What do you think? And be honest.”

  No! Once more. No! What you do is tell them what they want to hear by letting them hear what they think they are hearing. Meaning? Stay on the fence.

  Keep these handy neutral answers in your head and save everybody’s night. And feelings. Here’s what you can say:

  • “Wow . . .”

  • “Swell.”

  • “You did it again.”

  • “It’s all you.”

  • “It’s got you all over it.”

  • “How do you do it?”

  • “You must be so proud of yourself.”

  • “I couldn’t do that.”

  • “Nobody but you, nobody but you.”

  • “I think you found yourself.”

  • “Somebody’s been working.”

  • “I’ve never seen/heard anything like this.”

  • “I am speechless.”

  None of these is really a lie, now, is it? Especially not this one:

  • “Know what? I am going to be remembering this moment for a long time.”

  What do you think of my list? And be honest . . .

  Chapter 14

  Gracious You

  We’ve all seen this, right? A little kid . . . maybe even your kid . . . one who is possibly the most adorable young man on the planet . . . is at his birthday party. He zooms right past the greeting card without even reading it and starts ripping into that gift wrap and ribbon like a grizzly clawing at a picnic cooler. Ribbon’s flying, paper’s shredding . . . Stand back, everybody! He gets the box open, sees the present, and, as you wait, poised to capture his delight on camera for posterity, the charming little youngster looks up and says, “This isn’t the one I wanted.”

  But, you know, that’s kids. Especially if they’re very young. They’re not polite, and we all know that. But here’s the problem. How many times recently have you seen the same thing play out—the ripping at the paper, the tearing open of the gift, and the comment of disappointment—but it’s not a kid, it’s a grown-up?

  And you think to yourself—WTF!??

  Here’s my feeling about gifts. I like them. Even the worst ones. Because your worst gift might be my favorite gift. No matter what it is, it shows that you care.

  If you open a gift from somebody—and they’re sitting right there—watch your face. Don’t sit there frowning. So it’s a toilet paper cozy. All right. But, hey, not just any toilet paper cozy . . . One that someone spent hours knitting. And in this moment—this split second of discovery—all sorts of things are just banging around in your mind. First is, “Now what the hell am I going to do with a toilet paper cozy?!” And then, “My TP doesn’t get cold enough to wear a dainty little sweater. And even if it did, I sure don’t want my friends coming over, using my bathroom, and thinking that I am the sort of person who needs, desires, or covets a toilet paper cozy!!” Yep. All those thoughts, and more, go racing around your head—but—and this is essential—but . . . under no circumstances let them come flying out of your mouth. And do not—do not—let them show on your face. No, no. This is your moment to shine. This is your chance to win that Oscar or that Tony Award for Best Performance by a Disappointed Recipient. Here’s what you do.

  Smile. Show some teeth. Say, “Thank you, it’s . . . swell!”

  If it’s the cell phone you wanted but not the right model, do not say, “Oh. I was hoping for the one with more gigs.” Nuh-uh. Where are those teeth? There they are. Smile. Say something like “Wow,” or make an agreeable sound.

  You can do it!

  Now. If you are fortunate enough to have some money, and someone who doesn’t got you a ten-dollar coupon for a latte, don’t make that person who stretched her budget to include you in her giving feel like crap for caring. Try saying how much you’d love a latte right now. You don’t need to overact or anything. We all know it’s not a new set of tires for your Porsche. Just accept it with thanks and a smile.

  Pretend it’s you doing the giving. Do you want to hear right that second that the person has one already? Or that it’s the wrong color? Or they don’t have room to put it anywhere? Or that they suddenly decided they don’t like to collect Belgian beer steins anymore and didn’t alert the Western Hemisphere?

  What they say is true. You shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. That’s when you have to suck it up. And, yeah, it really is the thought that counts. And to people who think of you, even if they have no taste, it’s still a big deal.

  Gifts are a tricky thing. Both people are looking for reaction. If you’re the one opening the package, it’s a chance for someone who cared enough about you to give it to receive a gift in return. Appreciation.

  Be gracious. Like I say, pretend it’s you.

  Chapter 15

  Toenail Clipping and Common Scents

  I fought with myself on this. I’ve been going round and round asking myself, “Do I really need to say this?” Sadly . . . yes, I do. Because I—not to mention the rest of us who have seen you do this “activity”—have been sufficiently grossed out. So, I will say this.

  Listening?

  Please, do not cut your toenails on the train. Or on the bus. Or at the table you are hogging at Starbucks. It’s not your bathroom.

  Do that at home!

  And if you find that it takes you too long in the morning to do it there—get up earlier. But I don’t want to have to sit and look at you doing that. And I am not alone. Oh, and clipping your toenails? That goes with brushing your hair—I don’t want to see that in public either.

  It’s not OK to force your bathroom habits outside of your house. You don’t have that right.

  It’s unsanitary. And, let’s face it. It’s NASTY.

  Except for the privacy of your home, here is a list of places where it is uncool to clip your nails. Ready?

  Everywhere.

  You should have done it before you left the house. They call it personal hygiene for a reason. Because your hygiene is your issue. But once you take it outside, you make it someone else’s issue. Just because it’s a public place, you simply can’t do whatever you want. I’m here to tell you, no, no, you can’t.

  That’s why you can’t walk around with your pants down and your pookie showing. The public does not need—or wa
nt—to see it.

  While you’re cinching up your belt, think about this. Many states have laws against handheld electronics in cars, right? ’Cause it’s dangerous. So why would it be any safer for folks to line their lips, put mascara on their lashes, clip their nose hair, or do any of the other things that we won’t talk about . . . while they’re behind the wheel at fifty miles per hour?

  A lot of this is laziness. It’s lazy people saying, “Oh, you know, I’ll do it in the car.” I say, No! No! No! No! No! Don’t do it in the car. Do it at home. Take the time, get up a little earlier, and leave the house—done. So that when you get in the car, you’re driving.

  Which is what you’re supposed to be doing.

  Since we are on the subject, I don’t want to smell you either. Good smell, bad smell, I don’t want to spend the rest of my day trying to get your odor out of my hair and off my clothes. Perfume, BO, smelly feet, scented hand cream, eau de cologne, eau de toilet, none of it.

  One of the reasons I wanted to write this book is because we are all getting crowded closer and closer together and we need to figure out how to make life pleasant for each other in spite of close proximity.

  So as long as we’re all crowded so close, let’s deal with our smells . . . please??

  We all try to be fresh for the day, which is fine. But God, how many times have you been stuck in a carpool with somebody day after day and they’re wearing enough cologne to make your eyes bleed!!

  And don’t drop an air biscuit in the elevator. Need I say more?

  I think not.

  Oh . . . And remember the windows in your car are made of glass. Stop picking your nose!

  Let’s face it. Hygiene is so important. If you know you haven’t showered for a week or two—Yow!—your stink is pretty much going to be traveling with you. So maybe you might not want to get into a closed elevator. Unless you’re an asshole. Because assholes will be stinky and get in the elevator with you.

  But at least that elevator ride will be over eventually. Here’s what’s tough. What’s tough is when you have to work all day around someone with bad hygiene. But, truth be told, you don’t have to.

  What’s that, Whoopi, I don’t?

  No, you don’t. If you work with someone who is chronically stinky, you can fix it. And the way to fix it is to tell them. They may not know. Why not sit them down and say, “You have an unusual smell. And I’m curious about it. Because I’m not sure if I can handle it or not.” As opposed to being uncomfortable . . . on the brink of gagging every time the person comes around . . . and so what do you do? You stay away from them and they think you don’t like them. And once you begin talking—and, dare I say, clear the air—in the long run, it becomes one less thing making your day bad.

  I know, I know, some people feel uncomfortable about this. It’s a tough line to cross ’cause it’s so personal. But listen, it’s only personal if they’re home. If you’re sharing a space with them every day at work, it is no longer a personal matter. You can ask that question. You don’t need to do it in front of everybody. And, yes, maybe it will make them uncomfortable, but, you know what? Maybe it will actually help them.

  The real question is to you.

  If it’s really a problem for you, ask yourself, how much do you want to change it? Can you live with it? Do you want to, or have to? And if they’re a nice . . . albeit fragrant person . . . and somebody you’d like to be friends with, you’re going to have to work this out. You’re going to have to say something. Very gently and not in a bad way. Try something like, “Listen, this is really hard for me to ask you. But I have to because I really would like to have a better relationship or a friendship or spend some more time with you. But I have this question for you.”

  It’s the only way. Or live with it.

  Now. If this person is your boss, unless the job market looks good and you have an updated résumé . . . or perhaps, you hold a very promising lottery ticket . . . you may want to get real good at holding your breath. Your call.

  It comes back to how bad do you want this to change? That’s really the only question you have to ask yourself. If it’s not worth it, don’t do it. If it’s worth it to you, and you can do it without being mean, I say go for it.

  Chapter 16

  Where Is the Respect?

  You should hear it inside my head. It’s like a press conference in there . . . Question about this. Question about that. Question about why I asked myself that last question. But I think, for me, the biggest question in the world these days is, why don’t people think before they act? I just dealt with this recently. The newspaper printed where I live. And it really pissed me off.

  Why would they do it?

  It’s nutty. That’s my home. Now, I’m sure those newspaper folks all have families. What if I just up and printed where their family lives? Where their kids go to school? Where they hide the key when they go away on vacation?

  So, note to newspaper editor: How pathetic is it that my private information is the best news you can come up with?

  What possesses somebody to print someone else’s private information? When did an address become newsworthy? I haven’t shot anybody, haven’t killed anybody, I’m just on TV. I make movies. I make pizza. Does that make me less of a person on the planet?

  NO!

  (Thank you all for that response.)

  Something like this could happen to anybody. It could be happening to you right now. Do you really believe you have to be famous to win the invasion-of-privacy lottery? Think again. Office gossip about subjects that used to be personal or intimate gets around in all sorts of ways now. Used to be they were just whispers around the water cooler. Or from toilet stall to toilet stall. Now they can end up with somebody putting it out there on their Facebook page or Twitter or in their emails.

  Where the hell is the respect for one another?

  And no, I’m not living a double standard. I know perfectly well that every day I am sitting amongst folks on a TV show that often can be intrusive of people’s privacy. And yes . . . it drives me crazy.

  It’s a dilemma for me, and I’m conflicted. On the one hand, I have strong points of view on the subject of privacy, and on the other hand, there I am, talking to Jon and Kate . . . or whoever . . . sometimes about intimate aspects of their lives. So here’s how I’ve decided to handle it. If there’s something I want to ask, I’ll ask it, but if I don’t, I won’t. Most times I don’t. Because I don’t want to know.

  But I’m on a TV show that tells me that a lot of people do want to know. And often, people tell you everything anyway. It’s mind-boggling. I’m good if you want to tell me what you’re wearing. Or that you have two kids. Or you raise ducks. But sometimes, they just want to tell you stuff that’s not your business. Maybe because they tweet or they’re on FaceSpace, or whatever, and they’re used to it.

  And while I’m on the subject, some of them do reality shows where we see them drunk, or we see them with their seventy-eight kids, or we see them hanging out in their daily life. Oo, yippee!! That used to be a rarity, except for a documentary called An American Family, with the Loud family, which PBS ran back in the 1970s as one of the first reality shows. That was a huge deal. People just didn’t share everything back then.

  Now everyone does it. Because everyone thinks that they’re fascinating. People used to say, “My life is a soap opera.” Now everyone thinks their life would make a great reality show. It’s now a life goal to aspire to be the next Jersey Shore dudebag or Reality Chick.

  It seems like we are boundary-free. Folks blog now about what they ate for lunch. They’re tweeting every time they stop for a latte, cross the street, or see a wad of gum stuck to a park bench that looks like Papa Smurf. People are walking around with camera crews! “That’s my camera crew.” “. . . What?! Your what? Why do you need a camera crew?”

  Why are we so obsessed with pushing our lives out there to be lived in front of a camera? It’s extraordinary.

  If that’s you, wha
t is missing in your life that you need to fill that hole? So is the next step that’s coming for all sorts of folks you don’t even want to know prying into all your business? Business that you will suddenly decide is off limits. Like your address. Your diary. Who you’re sleeping with. Or that you wore dirty sweats to the McDonald’s and ate large fries, and with that belly on you.

  Oops, silly me, it’s too late. That genie’s out of the bottle.

  Chapter 17

  You Respect My Opinion, I’ll Respect Yours

  It used to be all right to disagree. It made life interesting. Now it draws blood. “End of discussion” can mean the end of a nice lunch. Or a friendship.

  It’s crazy. Can we turn that around? . . . Maybe.

  A good starting place is cutting each other some slack. I hear people say, “Why do you always have to have an opinion?” Or “Why does that person always have to have something to say?” Well, maybe it’s because they do have something to say. We have a choice, you know. We don’t have to listen. We can leave the room.

  We don’t have to agree with it or like it, but it’s their right to express themselves. Now, there are some things that are not OK to say. Like when you slander people? Not a good thing.

  It’s pretty simple. You want respect? You’ve got to give respect.

  Respect my opinion, and I’ll respect yours. If I want to offer you my opinion, you have two choices: You can listen, or not. And you can make that decision just like that.