Curmudgeons
2008-07-13 08:59 pmThis was originally going to be a post about "friendly families". Friendly families do things together as families -- they visit, go places together, do things together, sometimes celebrate together; they keep in touch when they're apart. The kids play together, if they're of similar ages; otherwise the older ones may babysit the younger ones. They go to one anothers' parties. They usually have a network of mutual friends.
You find them a lot in fandom and the SCA. The House of the Anonymous Bosh was a huge, sprawling household with a couple of families at the core and a several more orbiting closely; many of us haven't been in the SCA in years, but we're still fairly close. Still friendly. Still going to one anothers' parties and inviting one another to our kids' weddings. Still meeting at conventions. Comment on one anothers' LJs...
But family outings are rare, now that the kids are old enough to have their own social lives, and they're not really all that interesting. It turns out that the interesting phenomenon is the curmudgeons. There are usually one or two in every family gathering; I've often been one of them. At SCA events I'd spend most of my time reading. On Wednesday nights at the Starport I could usually be found in the office, especially when the conversation in the living room got dull or excessively loud. Sometimes some of the other geeks will join me there -- there's always plenty of Linux and Perl to talk about. Sometimes it's the musicians who end up geeking in a corner. Or the cooks in the kitchen, or the costumers in the sewing room.
M is one of Colleen's best friends, and one of her daughters is my Younger Daughter's best friend; the Y.D. used to babysit her younger sister, and still loves playing with her. Her husband, D? I rarely see him except when he comes to collect one of the kids from our house. He feels out of place at our parties. That's OK.
There are people who do come over on Wednesday nights, and attend every single one of our parties, but aren't social at all. They'll sit in a corner and read a book from our fanishly-extensive library, or hide behind their laptop, or use one of our computers. That's OK, too.
I'm trying to be less curmudgeonly these days; at least now I'm usually one of the ones who hides behind a laptop, with a guitar within reach for the occasional request. But at the same time I'm less concerned about it. I'm not all that sociable, and sometimes it's a strain. And even when I am feeling sociable there are times when I'll pull someone aside for a private conversation, if only to avoid subjecting the rest of the party to one more run-through of "Quiet Victories" or "The River".
I think that recognizing this phenomenon makes me more comfortable with it, in others as well as in myself. There's no reason to feel like a bad host if someone is only there on Wednesday for the beer, the books, and the bandwidth. Grand Central Starport is a very comfortable place, even for curmudgeons.
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Date: 2008-07-14 03:36 pm (UTC)Hee. Lessee, see you not this coming weekend but the next one? You, me, and
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Date: 2008-07-14 03:52 pm (UTC)Webbish? I'm always up for web slinging...
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Date: 2008-07-14 09:27 pm (UTC)Patrick will end up surrounded by a house full of family and friends and pretty quickly he will retreat behind his laptop or go into his office to escape the party. Elizabeth Burnham used to just open a book and sit like a bump on a log. I have always found this very puzzling because Patrick claims to like the company of our friends and invariably will come up to me after everyone has gone home to say that he had a good time and Elizabeth always looked forward to fannish gatherings and would rate them after-the fact as pleasurable.
I have finally come to the conclusion that some people have better personal shields than others and when bombarded by the energies of other people, those who are sensitive to it become overloaded and cope by retreating behind a laptop or into a book. They are usually the same folk that avoid the crowd and chose to have a conversation with just one or two other people if they can manage it, even if the people the end up spending time with aren't necessarily their first choices for interaction.
I used to find this sort of behavior very rude, especially in a host or hostess, but I have come to accept that in fandom, anyway, since there are so many individuals with this distinct difficulty in coping, that it is not so much rude as just a personal quirk, and at least in fandom, one that is pretty universally accepted and/or tolerated by others. Geek socialization is an odd thing to behold, outside of the mundane world, and it makes me understand why we as a group travel long distances at great expense to congregate with others of our kind.
It also makes me sad for those people who long for personal connection, yet always seem destined to just be present while others connect. Close, but ultimately unsatisfying? I honestly can't judge because I don't have that personal demon. From the outside looking in it seems a heartbreaking thing to crave social interaction but ultimately to not be able to access it. I think that for some that is the case. Happily there are plenty of folks out there who find minimal or limited interaction with others enough, and you seem to be one of them.
Finding a way to get what you need from social interaction is an easy thing for some of us and there are those who just never quite get the hang of it. Being pack animals at heart, it is part of who we are to crave the social. Actually getting what we need if we are shy or have social phobias is sometimes much more problematic.
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Date: 2008-07-14 11:29 pm (UTC)Exactly. I can handle a conversation with one or two other people. Maybe three. I'm simply not aggressive enough to hold my own with more than that -- I'll just sit and listen.
Also, I don't multitask at all, so if there are other conversations going on in the room, or some other source of distraction like a video or music, it's all just noise. I can almost always make the noise go away if I'm reading something, and I can sometimes concentrate on one person sitting close to me enough to carry on a coherent conversation. But that's a real strain, and I can't keep it up for long.
It's not that I find limited interaction "enough" -- it's all I can handle. I still need it, desperately; I go as crazy from lack of conversation as I do from lack of time by myself. I just can't have a conversation when there are too many distractions. Conversation is hard enough for me when there aren't distractions, especially with someone I don't know well.