I heard a most interesting segment on "This American Life" this morning (locally aired on KIOS, 91.5 FM). The theme of the show was superheroes and superpowers, and the specific segment to which I refer was one in which a gentleman [whose name escapes me--I obviously lack super memory--Ed.] spent some time asking everyone whether they'd rather have the power of flying or of being invisible. His calculations and conclusions were fascinating. He says more women than men prefer the idea of being invisible; more men than women prefer the idea of flying. He goes on to say, with support from several of the people he queried on the subject, that this is because people with something to hide prefer invisibility, and people who "let it all hang out" in terms of who they are prefer the power of flight.
Why I found this so fascinating was that, as usual, I don't fit in. When he first asked the question, I answered "flying." I was 100% certain; the rest of the segment did not change my mind; I said it promptly and out loud, which got quite a reaction from my cats Linus and Lucy, who were, after all, trying to have their morning nap (in the sunny spot in the dining room) in peace.
The auteur says there are 5 stages of decision, and while I don't have the exact titles he used, this is the rough equivalent of what they are: (1) initial choice; (2) justifications; (3) reconsideration; (4) bargaining; (5) final choice, which over 90% of the time wound up being the opposite of the initial choice. He also went on to say that almost everyone who chose invisibility admitted sooner or later that they'd use that power either to spy on family, co-workers, and friends, or to shoplift or watch naked people who thought they were in the privacy of their own showers and tubs.
Ask me how glad I am that I chose flying, immediately and without going through all the stages he set forth. It's nice to get confirmation every now and again that one's own view of oneself is correct, that one is neither lying to oneself or fooling oneself, and that the way one thinks one presents herself to the world is, in fact, the way one presents herself to the world.
Especially on the 28th anniversary of the day I made the most stupid mistake of all the stupid mistakes I've made in my life . . . yes, today, down to its being a Saturday, is the anniversary of the day I got married . . . to a man who doubtless would choose invisibility over flying every time. It took me 16 years (5 of knowing him, 11 of being married to him) to realize that he was not the open, frank, and above-board person I thought he was. In retrospect, I have come to realize that he was always hiding something. I don't think he could go even 24 hours without lying about something to someone. I think it gave him a sense of power, as in "I know something you don't know, nyah, nyah, nyah, nyah, nyah." Yep, invisibility would have been right up his alley.
Realizing that makes me even more glad I was not only so quick to choose flying, but that I was so sure of that choice.
4 comments:
That's interesting. I heard this too, and I chose invisibility without hesitation.
I'm not sure I like what that seems to say about me.
P.S. I think the gentleman's name is John Hodgman.
Thanks for the info about the man's name. I'll leave it up to you to figure out for sure what your choice of invisibility says about you.
I do have to disagree with Mr. Hodgman's contention about invisibility in one regard. I think many women still feel invisible in this society to begin with, and they choose invisibility not so much because they have something to hide as because if they're going to be ignored or disregarded anyway, they might as well get some practical benefit out of it! (Said only partially tongue-in-cheek.)
I would choose flying as well. I really wouldn't want to spy on people. I think it would be depressing to know so much about the people in your life. And hearing about your husband makes me so glad that I'm single!
Well, don't let my unfortunate experience taint your hopes and dreams, Electric Blue. I still believe in the idea of genuine love and commitment, and I do actually think that the "happy ending" is obtainable--but that it takes the right two people being involved and a lot of work by both parties to make it happen.
As far as my own history goes, when I think about what happened to my marriage, I keep hearing Mr. Spock answering Adm. Kirk's question about how his trainees will respond in a real crisis: "Each according to his gifts." My ex-husband was not gifted in certain areas. He's the one who has to live with that knowledge, even if he won't acknowledge it.
People have told me that I am very courageous in the face of my illness and everything that has happened as a result, but I pooh-pooh that notion. It's not courage when you don't have a choice. I'd run, not walk, away from this illness if I could, believe me. But I can't, so my only option is to deal with it. And I have bad patches, believe me. But I'm also stubborn, and I believe in the healing power of humor, and that's why I'm still here. Living is the best revenge!
Post a Comment