Recliner Reminiscences


I wonder if there’s anyone in life who has never had an argument—speaking of ordinary mortals, of course. When I first thought about writing on this topic, I considered looking up the dictionary definition of "argument." I hesitated but eventually checked an online dictionary. Here are a few definitions I found:
- An exchange of diverging or opposite views, typically a heated or angry one.
- A reason or set of reasons given in support of an idea, action, or theory.
It’s the first definition that bothers me because it reflects what happens in most arguments. How often do we come across or participate in healthy arguments? In everyday language, an argument usually means differing views—and differing views often mean a fight.
I once heard a humorous take on this from a great speaker. He began his talk by saying, “If you agree with me, what’s the point of this talk? And if you don’t agree, what’s the point of talking at all? You’re not going to change your mind. So why don’t we just skip the conversation entirely?” The audience burst into laughter.
He had a point, though. Once an argument starts, it’s rare for both sides to come to an agreement. Positions are taken, egos get involved, and even if someone sees the other’s point, they often won’t admit it. It’s a matter of pride.
Sometimes, arguments don’t even need a real issue to begin. A casual conversation can suddenly take a wrong turn, and someone gets rubbed the wrong way. Before you know it, an argument erupts. Within minutes, the original issue is forgotten, and all sorts of past grievances—some long buried—come flooding out. The discussion takes a zig-zag course with no clear destination, and eventually, red-faced participants walk away, still upset.
In family arguments, most of the time, things return to normal after a day or two. But the worst part? The same issues resurface in future arguments. You’d think certain things could be resolved once and for all, but that rarely happens. Even settled matters get dragged up again during another heated exchange.
Of course, it takes two people to argue (though arguing with oneself can be valuable introspection—worth doing sometimes). So, why not simply refuse to participate in an argument? Sounds like a good solution, right? The problem is, some people have a knack for drawing you in like a magnet. Even if you don’t want to engage, they won’t let you escape.
Perhaps we should learn the art of avoiding arguments that lead to verbal warfare. Maybe we can learn to cultivate healthy debates—if such things are possible.
Do you want to argue with me on these points?
Contd. 387. Extended Hands