What's It To You?

In many respects I have grown more like my father over the years. I am no more handy with tools than I ever was, but in matters of opinion I have become closer to him. Growing up, it was common for me to declare that some notable figure had died, and as I would be under the impression that my father liked them and their work, I would expect that he would take a particular interest. He wouldn't, and his explanation would be, "I didn't know him".

I didn't get that then, but I think I do now. Other people find a lot of room in their hearts to mourn celebrities, but I don't. I also don't feel much for those same celebrities when they triumph. It is presently awards season, and many actors are being honored with nominations presently. Some of them will win and more will lose. Many more will not have had the opportunity, and those who are considered to have deserved it are said to have been snubbed.

You hear people talk about these supposed injustices with such fervor that you'd think they have a real stake in the issue, but they don't. I could spend days or weeks mad that a personal favorite was denied, but that would be ignoring two things. The first is that these entities issuing the awards are famously fallible, and one shouldn't be surprised when the truly meritorious are rejected in favor of somebody else.

The second, and much more important thing, is that these people are of no connection to you except in rare occasions. They don't know you, and your grief on their behalf can't be of any meaning. Even if it were, you're wasting it. I spend myself on myself and on those who are near and dear to me. I care for myself out of self interest and for others who I know and love. Those are productive outlets for one's happiness and outrage. The rest is beyond me.