Any story from me that begins with the following anecdote is not going to be a pleasant one…
“one, two, three, ONE! one, two, three, TWO! one, two, three, THREE!…” Oh Shit! That’s the rest of my platoon doing pushups and it’s the most unpleasant alarm clock I’ve ever had the misfortune to use. It’s 1986 and we’re on bivouac in the White Sands Missile Range in the middle of 10 weeks of Basic Training. I grabbed pants, shirt, and boots and got dressed while I was running the couple hundred yards to the platoon formation—all the while listening to my fellow soldiers shouting higher and higher numbers. They stood up just as I arrived (with boots unlaced and shirt buttoned wrongly). They were doing these pushups because not everyone in the platoon had decided to wake up this morning when the Drill Sergeant called us. (Ironically, I didn’t do ANY pushups and no one ever scolded me about not waking up.)
I’m never in the hole intentionally, but digging out of it when everyone thinks you’re an entitled ass is never easy. Last Friday it happened again and it wasn’t in any way my fault, but I still felt that “Oh Shit!” moment for most of the day.
Two friends and I were invited last weekend to visit a rural part of Hunan Province–and that was about all I knew about the trip at the time. I knew that we were going to meet some people from one of China’s minorities, and I was very much looking forward to the trip. On Thursday evening, I got an email stating that they were going to pick me up at 7:30 Pm. I wrote back to say that that would be great because I really needed to get some work done on my drum book in the afternoon.
At 7:30 Am, someone knocked on my door saying, “Where ARE you? You were supposed to be downstairs waiting for us.” It turns out that there was a bus full of people waiting for me. I packed very quickly, forgot to include clothes, and didn’t shower. I did brush my teeth and remembered my shaving kit and my cables for the computer (but forgot the computer…). I don’t think well the first few minutes after waking up. 
Next thing I know, I’m half awake sitting on an uncomfortable bus FULL of people who think I’m an entitled ass. (It wasn’t explained to them until later that there had been a miscommunication.) I’m gradually realizing that Hikari is waiting for me on Skype and Todd Roach is waiting for some music for a piece that we co-composed, and I have no way to contact either one of them until I get back on Monday night.
Before everyone knew that my tardiness wasn’t my fault, an old bit of wisdom that I’ve heard from parents, teachers, etc. came to mind: “It doesn’t matter what other people think as long as YOU know that you did your best.”
Yeah. That’s a complete lie. It totally matters. We’ve also been told to establish a reputation based on fidelity, punctuality, and respect for others. The reason that lie gets told is that most of the time our elders want to help us. They will step in and intervene; they will give practical advice; etc. In cases like these, however, they can’t do it because you are in a situation that can’t be helped—maybe it was your fault (like the Army story) or maybe not (like the miscommunication about Am and Pm). It doesn’t matter because they still want to make you feel better. So you are (at least temporarily) a loser, and you get a little white lie to help placate that fact. Everyone’s a loser from time to time.
By the way, this is no criticism of my Parents, Teachers, etc. If they are reading this, I just want to let them know that they shouldn’t feel bad if they had to lie to me once in a while for my own good. They should take comfort in the fact that they did their best…
Bonus Link
