The American playwright Tennessee Williams once wrote a play called “Night Of The Iguana,” in which a tormented American tourist in Mexico at the end of his tether identifies a bit too strongly with a tormented iguana and seeks to free it from a fate of being served up as dinner, in the hope of escaping from his own cruel fate as well. Tonight was a night of identification, not in the sense that it was a troubling night, quite the contrary, but rather because it was a night of being able to relate to others as beings not unlike myself. In fact, just before leaving tonight’s sports appreciation night for the teens I help coach in volleyball, I spoke with a couple of people, both of whom admitted that like me they were intensely critical of massive social events such as tonight’s dinner, critiquing their witty comments, berating themselves for being too cruel on others, hoping they did not make a bad impression on others or offend others they wanted to get along with. I admitted, candidly, to the same tendency for myself [1], as it is a tendency of overanalysis that is too obvious to be ignored.

Many of the quirks I heard about today were of particular interest because they were so similar to my own. There was the case of a brother and sister, our minister, and I all sharing the same intense hunger for salt, expressed in different ways. Some people chose to dip everything in soy sauce or related condiments, and I choose to eat lots of top ramen noodles, so much so as to have people give me nicknames for it. Why we four should be so intensely desiring of salt seems strange, but there are enough similarities between us as well to make it one of many odd parallels. One of those parallels that I overheard was someone who, like me, has a great interest in the issue of having good mentors for encouragement and setting a good example of how to act in certain areas of life where our family background was less than desirable, the subject of my next Spokesmen’s Club speech. During the latter part of our discussion we had conversations about the strange quirks of animals, especially cats, about which all of us in the conversation were familiar. Additionally, I saw there were a few people who like me were not particularly ticklish, although that did not stop others from trying, and failing, to make us laugh and giggle.

Despite the fact that everyone seemed to enjoy my company, whether as a conversation partner or intense observer of my interactions, there were some people who seemed to be having a night of the iguana. One young lady seemed to have no one to share her overanalysis with, so she said she was going to talk to herself about her interactions with others. Others write about them, so I was understanding of her exhaustion as well as her need to verbalize the post-mortem. I know, for example, that in the past I have gone to diners with friends to talk about a dance or another social event like that, and that others I know have done the same thing to out of a desire to sleep at some point in the night, even if not for very long. It was disconcerting to see that some people took enjoyment out of bothering others or irritating others, especially with unwanted touching.

Being someone who has long been prone to having nightmares over social interactions, I have always been sensitive to the fact that other people could be just as sensitive as me. I do not want people to regret their interactions with me, or to be a voice of harsh criticism inside their head that tells them all they could have said or done better, or what they are doing wrong. I want to be the voice of encouragement pointing others to what is noble and what is good. We all have enough of our own critical voices to deal with, some of which are family members or overly observant friends and acquaintances. Most of us don’t need any more criticism in life. What we need are models of how to behave, good examples that we can emulate, the knowledge that we are loved and respected and that people want the best for us, and good company along the way. If so many of us long for these things, they should not be so hard to find, if everyone is looking. It was enjoyable to eat good food, and to celebrate the achievements of the teens in our congregational volleyball team, but it was a night that hinted that we are far more closely tied than merely sharing an interest in sports, or even religious beliefs, but have connections and ties far more complicated than that. It is something to think about closely.

[1] See, for example:

https://edgeinducedcohesion.wordpress.com/2015/02/14/youre-not-going-to-let-me-wait-out-here-forever-are-you/

https://edgeinducedcohesion.wordpress.com/2014/08/10/this-is-not-where-i-parked-my-car/

https://edgeinducedcohesion.wordpress.com/2014/02/16/younger-now-than-we-were-then/

https://edgeinducedcohesion.wordpress.com/2015/02/15/you-already-know/

https://edgeinducedcohesion.wordpress.com/2014/05/25/white-rabbits-on-the-run/

https://edgeinducedcohesion.wordpress.com/2014/06/14/a-walk-in-the-park/

https://edgeinducedcohesion.wordpress.com/2013/11/24/i-hope-i-have-not-trespassed-on-your-hospitality-your/