Men Can't Communicate

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In this issue: Men Suck at Communication; Hermit’s Mill on Bullshit River

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Men Can’t Communicate / Plus 5 Other Tragedies of Modern Existence

Well, slap my knee!

Ok, maybe you’re not the Midwestern type to laugh at this old-timer-ism.

I grew up in Kentucky, so I been slappin’ my knee since childhood.

#JustJoking, calm down.

For all the supposed plain-spokenness of Americans, especially New Yawkers or say, Clint Eastwood in Westerns, modern Americans often *really* suck at communicating.

Cool your heels, buddy.

I’s American too, aite?

As a?prawper?behavioral economist, it would be silly to expect people’s social norms (among them, the language and attendant psychology underlying those norms) to allow such directness among men and women (and between the two groups) as to eviscerate the complexity of human relations for romance, commerce, prestige, taste, political and other kinds of formal and informal power.

We would all supposedly descend into instant civil war on an interpersonal scale.

I don’t know. Maybe, maybe not.

I mean, in Israel, sure, things are much more direct, often appallingly so — certainly, for Americans.

But that’s not what I had in mind when I brought this up.

Last week, something snapped.

Two buddies of mine and I started a non-profit a few years ago.

We’ve been pretty close since our days as single dudes living in Manhattan.

Crazy war stories of chasing women, getting fired, not having a place to live, desperate and amazing times, lots of beer and burgers, Shabbat dinners, you name it.

But there’s trouble in paradise.

Moving to another country isn’t exactly great for keeping up friendships. 7 hours difference, at least 3 kids (thank G-d) for each of us.

But then, you know, Facetime, WhatsApp, etc.

Anyways, we shoot the shit on this one WhatsApp group, just the three of us.

And if I’m very honest with myself, I don’t much like the subject matter, at least 80%.

I joke along, but it rings hollow much of the time.

Not just the humor, the subject matter.

One conversation turned to the subject of moving to Israel.

And suddenly, the resentment, jealousy, just nasty stuff, came out.

Almost down to name-calling. Ad hominem stuff.

Shit, I just wished for my friends to live here with their families and that’s it.

Instead, I get shit thrown in my face. Personal, family insinuations.

WTF is this?

In years past, I sort of dodged it, just let it pass, whatever. It was always there, sort of in the background.

These are two of my closest dudes, we’ve been in the trenches together, blah blah, lalala.

This was somehow different.

Maybe it’s feeling like “hey, I’m too old for this shit.”

Maybe it’s no longer giving a shit that it’s really hard to make friends when you’re older (I’d argue it’s not truly true, if you’re open and work hard to meet the?right?people).

Maybe it’s seeing hypocrisy and resentment and jealousy out in the open.

Maybe it’s feeling that I’m done looking the other way and playing the third wheel.

I’m the youngest. I’m the least X, they’re ahead of me in A, B, C.

Enough.

Something broke. This episode really got me thinking.

What?is?true?friendship for men, at its essence?

Sure, it’s shared experiences, usually tough ones, not just “light” ones.

It’s a shared sense of humor, on some level.

It’s shooting the proverbial shit, eating meat and drinking beer, maybe boasting, maybe talking shit about sports teams and players (not so much, in this group - nerd alert).

And a LOT of history.

But more than that…?Friendship is simply listening to each other’s hardships and problems, maybe BS theories, and just?being happy?for the other person.

Like, just for no other reason that you love this person and want them to do well in life.

Do my friends not want me to do well?

I don’t really believe that, at heart.

BUT (big, hairy butt), they don’t verbalize it (I DO and always have).

In fact, I thought back on all the years we know each other (close to 17 years in one case, 13 or 14 in the other).

And I sadly was forced to conclude that…

I don’t. remember. hearing. A. SINGLE. TIME. from either of them that they’re happy for me. Just like that.

Isn’t that f-ing bizarre?

Not like other friends haven’t verbalized it. In fact, others definitely have.

Maybe my memory isn’t perfect, but it’s generally pretty accurate and not malevolent.

WTF is going on?

I’m not looking for some self-fulfilling prophecy.

Is it me? Some sort of molting, evolution, change of scenery?

Maybe, maybe not.

I’m not willing to give room to resentment, jealousy, hypocrisy, potentially worse in my life, any longer.

Right, #YouGoBoy.

It’s SAD.

Again, probably not their fault.

Their lives are not exactly easy, trying to hack it in (or near) NYC as a professional anything, with 3 or 4 kids, a mortgage, aging parents, school costs, etc.

Men lose all shame with age, blah blah.

It goes deeper than just that.

The more I thought about it, they also fundamentally?don’t get me.

Even while they think our shared history means they know?everything?important about me,

Over the years, they would laugh or downplay — or just plain ignore — my interests, my blogging, my writing, my newsletter, my books, my coaching, my consulting, basically the things that drive me in life.

Ok, they don’t get entrepreneurship. They’re on the 9-5 track. Fine, G-d bless, nothing dishonorable about a conventional income.

But it’s highly strange, in retrospect, that close friends would hardly ever bother to ask about my work, what I really care about in life, basically make fun of my romanticism or my adventures or whatever else.

And for some reason (again, shared history, shared background, hard to make new friends, a range of other rationalizations), I always let it slide or ignored it.

Well, it’s official. #ImTooOldForThisShit.

It doesn’t mean that we can’t be friendly or even keep running a non-profit together or help other people together.

We’re still part of one people and I will never wish them anything but the very best, BUT… Not at the cost of myself and my self-esteem or personal alignment.

It’s a harsh, but important lesson.

No, not everyone can (or should) be kumbaya all the time.

Even one’s closest friends and family members can be jealous or resentful of you, even though you did nothing to deserve it.

No, you don’t have to take their shit?just because?of shared history or your past dynamic.

People grow, evolve, take other roads, have their own trajectories.

People will either travel with you, or hold you back actively from traveling your own path.

Like it or not, you have to choose — and often, force the issue.

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All this brings me back to the original subject of this newsletter…

Basically, humans, especially men, f-ing suck at communication.

We have a million?channels?for communication - you know, WhatsApp, Facetime, Messenger, face-to-face, FB, Slack, email, carrier pigeon.

But our actual communication is poor and getting poorer.

We take our 4-second attention span for messages and screens and resumes and transfer it to our kids, our spouses, our co-workers — and yes, our friends, old and otherwise.

When was the last time you invested seriously in a close friendship?

Had his or her family over for a BBQ?

Rode bikes together for many miles?

Ran a half-marathon together?

Went on a long hike?

Did a big charity project together?

Or traveled together?

Yeah, I mean, kids, mortgages, COVID, inflation, blah blah.

Friendships are most moment management than contiguous time together.

And time together doesn’t always mean?quality?time.

The last time one of the two friends was in Israel, we agreed we’d meet and then he never called me before leaving back to the U.S.

The other one? He stopped by for 30 minutes between errands, looked around with pleasant envy and went on his way.

80% of communication is non-verbal, right?

Well, fuck me for me being born with an unnatural ability to read non-verbal signals.

Always served me well with people I want to avoid, but I wouldn’t — for much too long — believe my own gut when it came to people closest to me.

Because it’s?PAINFUL. But it’s also totally normal, human and expected that humans will be jealous of you, resentful, shallow, not caring, take you for granted, project all their own cognitive biases on you.

Damned if you do (know them and feel them and see them) or you don’t.

I DO, and I refuse to un-see or ignore or bury what I feel.

Again, these are not just “not bad” people. These are people who are truly dear, who took me into their home when I had none other (true story), who have helped me immensely by lending an ear, by making connections that proved fruitful.

These are people whose impact on my life is overwhelmingly positive, net net.

But most of those positive impacts are?in the past.

What is the main problem?

Social barriers, not having the language to open up and share your deepest, darkest stuff even with your (nominally) closest friends.

This isn’t me; I’ve been pretty open about these things for a number of years, not least in these pages, my writing, speaking, etc.

It’s my friends who will never share their feelings, will never let their guard down, will never broach certain subjects, nominally for reasons of modesty (but really, out of a certain pathetic machismo).

These are to a large degree, shell-shocked, PTSD-riddled men broken by the way the world works, who have officially embraced mediocrity in mid-life.

Not like, they’re always miserable or something. Not as if they have no hope.

But they’re much more apt to use sarcasm or denigration or ignorance or machismo as some sort of shield against the “softer” side of life that might (G-d forbid) allow for poetry, fiction, feelings, openness to new things, people and experiences — frankly, for hope and aspiration itself.

Their inner child is either buried alive or frozen, not that it matters, in practice.

More likely, for even the sleeping lions inside them, they’re so immersed in exile and sleepwalking through life that they don’t even notice how asleep they are.

Maybe I’m an inveterate optimist, maybe a dreamer at heart.

Not like I don’t buy “insurance” (LOL) in the form of income or other “practicalities.”

I live squarely on the ground.

But I don’t let that stop me from flying up to see the eagle’s eye view.

After all, I don’t want my kids to miss out on their childhood, G-d forbid, like I often did.

And by the way, this isn’t just a “man” thing.

Yes, women are generally much better at communication, at sharing their feelings, etc.

On average, anyway.

But they’re bound by the same problem of volume vs. quality.

They also have no time and all sorts of internal codes for what can be - and can’t be — said to other women or men.

And so, friendships are nominally easier than ever to sustain on paper, but harder than ever to maintain?meaningfully.

People move to other cities, grow into different income brackets, acquire new friends and habits, social circles, worldviews, etc.

Nothing is guaranteed anymore, unfortunately. Not that it ever was.

The only thing we can do is communicate early and often, that we love others, are happy for them, want them to do well, spend quality time with them, and once in a while, make sure it’s truly reciprocal.

Cuz life’s too short to be treated like shit by the very people who are supposed to hold you in high regard.

I’m far from perfect, myself, but this one thing, I know well. I will never knowingly, purposefully make someone else feel like shit because of envy or resentment or any of that other crap.

You guessed it, I love my life and the people and things in it, so I have no reason whatsoever to envy anyone else, for any reason.

I will always wish other people well, no matter what, as long as it’s 1) not at my own expense or 2) at my people’s expense.

If you’re with me, you’re REALLY with me and I’ll do everything in my power to protect and care for you.

If you’re NOT with me, G-d bless, I wish you well, but I don’t recommend crossing me.

It’s great to do a relationship audit from time to time.

Relationships that we think are on auto-pilot also need a refresh and a new perspective, from time to time.

Not just for utility (as in, is this person serving me financially or energetically), but also for freshness. Meaning, is this relationship just based on the past, or is this something still alive and well and growing to mutual benefit somehow?

And if a relationship is no longer, in fact, “fresh” or “useful” and you’ve tried your best to refresh it or to add value to the other person, without even good will verbalized, then maybe it’s time to open your eyes and adjust accordingly.

Not just “cut and run,” but by, you know, COMMUNICATING verbally or by voting with you feet.

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Bullshit River

Sunday adventures today.

Hiking alone near Haifa.

Discovered a new place, truly stunning.

On the map in English, “Hermit’s Mill.”

The watchman told me it was built around a thousand years ago, maybe by Crusaders, maybe on top of ruins from even a few hundred years before.

I drove through some very rocky fields full of olive trees, Mediterranean views, Arab villages with shiny mosque domes, and came out near an oasis with a palm, on the Tzipori River (more like stream), the hermit’s mill built on the side of a mountain.

An Arab goatherd was following a herd of multi-colored goats on a nearly vertical surface. Families were picnicking under the trees.

The whole valley is incredibly verdant and beautiful.

I forded the river (ha! jumped a rock or two), climbed up and looked at the hermit’s mill from above.

The watchman cautioned me against climbing on the ruins (not to fall into a cistern on top) and told me the story.

On the drive back, as I smelled very strong cow dung, I was shocked to see…

A bull standing in the river, staring at me.

So yeah, bullshit river, hehe.

20 min later, I was at Ikea and on with errands for the day.

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Yuri Kruman

+1 (347) 415-0265 (Whatsapp)