Cancel Culture

I’ve been asked my opinion about cancel culture.

So I’m having lunch with a close friend today. It was simple to set up. Last week she suggested lunch out. I said yes. I asked her to pick the day, so I could keep my schedule clear. She did. I agreed. She told me she would pick me up at noon, and asked me to pick the place. I did. I wrote it in my calendar. In Sharpie. Then we didn’t talk for a week until yesterday when we both confirmed.

I thought about the simplicity of the exchange, and about how neither of us felt the need to communicate throughout the week. And it occurred to me that my closest friends have one very special thing in common:

They rarely cancel on me. Once plans are made, that’s it. And if they have to reschedule, I know it’s for a good reason. Hell, I don’t even care if they give me a reason. If a friend has earned my trust through reliability, I don’t even need a reason. I can’t overstate the importance of this quality of friendship to me. It could be the most important quality I look for in a friend.

It’s not even about reliability. It’s more the implication that when you make plans with someone, you have made the conscious decision to put that person first, whether it’s for an hour or two or a long weekend. No one needs to be someone’s first or even second priority 24-hours a day, seven days a week. Not even in a marriage. It even sounds horrible, and exhausting.

What I require, however, is that if someone has gone out of her way to make plans with me on Sunday at 3:00 p.m., she has decided that I will be her first priority on Sunday at 3:00 p.m. When someone cancels on me at the last minute, this is the message I hear:

Sorry, something better came up at the last minute for 3:00 p.m. on Sunday. Unfortunately, you’re disposable. Maybe next week I won’t have such important plans, and I can fit you in. But who knows, maybe something better will come up again, and I’ll do it to you twice. So, want to reschedule?

No. Go fuck yourself. I don’t want to reschedule.

I despise getting cancelled on at the last minute. To me, it is the highest insult. I think my company is worth a few hours of someone’s day. Besides that, I probably said no to a lot of other things to keep that appointment, so now I have missed out on other fun opportunities. So when cancelled on, I’ll give someone a second chance, but rarely a third. Because I interpret being flung aside as meaning I am not a priority on that person’s social calendar. I’m not first. I’m not second. I’m barely third. Hell, maybe I’m not even in the top ten. How could I ever be sure?

(Notice I keep saying “at the last minute.” Someone calling you a week before and asking if she can reschedule dinner because of a conflict with her son’s soccer schedule is a lot different than a phone call two hours before. I’m not an unreasonable bitch. Well, maybe sometimes I am).

Some people even see it as a game. They go out of their way to make plans with you, purposely cancel them, and don’t make the slightest effort to hide their inconsideration. They’re barely remorseful. That’s because they see cancelling as a power move. They could have worked with whatever came up and kept to their original plan, but doing so would imply vulnerability and weakness. An acquiescence, if you will, to one relationship over another. Sending me a text two hours before we are supposed to meet, saying, “I’m such an idiot, I forgot I’m having other friends down, so I can’t make it,” or “I’m so sorry, my brother and his daughter just paid me a surprise visit, can we do it another time?” or “I don’t much feel like going out, I’m just going to hang out by my pool, we’ll do it another time,” lend themselves to a number of observations:

• So these friends are more important to you than I am? Fine, message heard, loud and clear. And tell me, is there any reason why you can’t invite these other friends along to our lunch? Or tell them you’ll be back in a couple of hours?
• You can’t tell your brother you have plans, and that you will meet them on the beach afterward in an hour? Tell them to take a walk on the boardwalk until you’re done? Let them hang out in your house while we’re eating lunch? Bring them along?
• So I’m not invited to your stupid pool? Great, don’t ever think you’re getting on my boat now.

Fine, I’m immature.

Maybe the reason I get so insulted is because I’m so personally rigid when it comes to cancelling. When I make plans with someone, those plans are set in stone from my end, and only a family emergency would cause me to cancel. Once I make a promise or an appointment, it gets written in my day calendar in Sharpie, and THAT IS FREAKING IT. I mean, I just promised a trainer at my gym that I would attend his class. I hate organized workout sessions. But I promised to go. And I will go. That’s just how I am.

If I agree to work an extra shift, I work it.

If I agree to “stop by” a gathering, I stop by.

If I promise a friend to go golfing, I go golfing.

If I promise to have lunch with you, I will have lunch with you.

If I tell the sickly old woman who used to always visit my dog but who misses him now that he is passed that I will be standing in my yard at 11:30 a.m. on Friday so I can walk up to her car and talk to her before she leaves for a doctor’s appointment, then I am on my fucking lawn at 11:30 a.m. on Friday to talk to her.

Come hell or high water, if you will excuse the cliché.

Because that five-minute interaction with that wonderful woman is, to me, the most important thing to happen in my entire life at 11:30 a.m. on Friday, March 26^th,  2021. I wouldn’t give it up for anything, because I promised her. She means a lot to me. She loved my dog, my dog loved her, and she misses him. She wants to talk about him, and what she will do without his hugs. I will guard that five minutes from other commitments with ferocious protectiveness. I won’t miss it. Because I promised.

So there you have it. I know this is not the “cancel culture” you were referring to, but that’s coming. I just have to gather my thoughts, and finish reading the book entitled, The Psychology of Stupidity by Jean-Francois Marmion. No discussion about cancel culture would be complete without full knowledge of the vast cavern of stupidity that encompasses cancel culture people. So please be patient, that post is on the way.

I promise.