Splitting the Difference

A carpenter is installing a cabinet next to a wall that is 3/4″ out of plumb. If he follows the lay of the land, then his work will be whack. If he makes it perfectly plumb and level then he gives into his ego. The sin of … something or other.

Split the difference. Install the cabinet 3/8″ out of plumb. The difference is less noticeable and the universe continues to be ever so slightly off balance.

When at the market, and the aisles are full of other shoppers, we tend to turn our body slightly sideways unconsciously, to make room for each other. Exceptions: If the aisle is to narrow and not in compliance with the ADA then one or the other must yield right of way. Or if it is the 19th century then the gentlemen must yield to the Lady. I’m not sure about this, it may have been optional, but I think he would also remove his hat.

Today, we glide.

When entering or exiting a building we look to see if someone is behind us. If so, we hold the door for a second or two until they have a hold of it, no matter what sex they are or how good looking they are.

I live in a small cottage in the wood near the dark forest across from the new mall with my wife and children who visit and friends who visit and three dogs and a cat. Gliding was second nature.

Until recently. Our dog Laszlo has lost his sight, so when I walk toward him, he doesn’t veer out of the way and so I knee him in the face. This gives me no pleasure.

It is for this reason that I write today. I have come to a realization.

Laszlo can no longer split the difference.

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