Belhor on Integrity

"Why won't you just say it, Arthur? You are always thinking far too much about whether or not you will mean what you say tomorrow. What does tomorrow matter if you mean it now? Why must you stand by it after an hour or two or twenty-four or a year? Truth is contextual. The context of this space and this time is all you need to consider when you speak. Speak! This obsession with integrity . . . Integrity! I will tell you what Integrity is. It is propaganda by cowards--a fancy name given to a guarantee which life implicitly tell them is impossible. It is consoling to think that the world they know today will be waiting for them in the morning. How safe. How sound. How blind. How can a human being that learns and changes and has a free will be expected to remain the same for ever? No one in their honest mind can. Anyone without the courage to know life as it is, does. Integrity is for those who cannot bear to understand that life is not going to obey their deepest desires for an immutable world, for people as static creatures with beliefs fortressed against reality, for minds that never change! What if you are persuaded to change your mind? Will you remain as you are in the face of reality giving you an alternative, an opposite, an idea that perhaps provokes emotions of fear, disgust, longing, or joy in order that you may retain your precious Integrity? Will you deny the mysteries and the complexities of what it means to be a human being, deny the broadening and deepening horizons, as mutable as you are mortal, to tell yourself at the end of the day that you always mean what you say, forever? Is it not enough, and indeed the only guarantee, that you meant what you said then? A chill comes over you, you say, to realize what I say now I may deny tomorrow. You will ask me about my harangue at some later date and I may say to you, “So what? That was yesterday.” Or I may not. It doesn’t matter, so long as I tell the truth as I know it now. This is how we are—perhaps the most wonderful and most horrible aspect of human nature. But if you want to have lived, and lived fully, embracing all that is wonderful and horrible about humanity, then you must accept, if not embrace, this aspect of your fellow Man, and, most importantly, about yourself. You are not an absolute. You are fluid. Embrace it. Revel in it! Speak! For God’s sake speak and mean it. For now. Believe me. I won’t hold it against you. You do believe me . . . don’t you?"

The Seven Virtues of Man: Monologues

One day two men made a plan to meet for coffee in the local square. The square was not unlike Russell Square flanked on one side by a museum, on another by a university, and the third by a hotel featuring a now closed drawing room called the ____ Room, in honour of the famous London novelist and essayist. It was drawn through with gravel paths, shaded by tall willows and box-cut hedges. A small fountain could be heard through the foliage and forest green painted benches sat tucked inside small gardens for strollers' respite from the city bustle without.

A man sat on one these benches with a paper bag beside him. He was impeccably dressed in a dark pinstripe suit, crimson neck tie and a white shirt. His hair was black and combed and he wore a mustache curled to points as they slid down and up towards his ears. A black enameled cane with a golden pelican as a handle lent on the arm of the bench. His name was Belhor. He looked at this watch and a moment later saw the other man waving towards him. Right on time.

This other man was also impeccably dressed in a gray flannel suit, a powder blue tie and matching shirt. His name was Arthur. He sat down beside the pinstripe suit man who took out the coffees from the paper bag. They began a long discussion on the 7 virtues of man . . .

The Daily Challenge of Being Kind

"Three things in human life are important. The first is to be kind. The second is to be kind. And the third is to be kind." - Henry James

At the Hyundai dealership, Mo, in a most courteous and practiced professionalism, advised me to have $574 worth of automotive parts and labour invested into my car. A second opinion was in order, an opinion I'd hoped to avoid.

My dad's mechanic, Mr Oh, owns and operates his own shop in the back alley off Dundas, called O'Seho, a curious Irish-Korean appellation. I refrain from calling the gentleman by his Christian name, Seho, since he's old, like my dad, and he's Korean, like my dad. Mr Oh has been the family mechanic for our Chrysler K car (a most reliable automobile), the Dodge Caravan, the Honda Accord, and my Hyundai Elantra. Last summer, when I returned from London (UK), I had my wipers and tires replaced for the fraction of the cost quoted by Canadian Tire, aka Canadian Thieves. During this visit to Mr Oh's shop, alone without my father for the first time, I was made immediately comfortable by Mr Oh's quiet and unhurried demeanor and his son, Raymond Oh.

Raymond was happy to look at my breaks, but like his father, he had an unhurried and methodical way about him that transformed the eagerness to something resembling reefer amicability. He even spoke with a slight drawl. Time moved slower at O'Seho and the prices, lower. I got a great quote and was asked out on a date by Raymond, thoughtfully encouraged by the elderly, family friend gentleman who doubles as the shops account manager and match-maker yenta. It was my first date since returning to Toronto and B-list dating, I reasoned, was always a good idea to get you started. On the day, I waited twenty minutes before leaving the coffee shop. I never returned his many phone calls which included a message of some lame reason of being held up at the shop. I hoped I wouldn't have to return their within the next couple or many years. And behold the irony: less than a year later I have break problems and Raymond is the breaks man at O'Seho. Happily, though, everyone was cool, including Raymond. I didn't fail to notice the other mechanic call Raymond when he spotted me getting out of the car, instead of notifying Mr Oh, who owns the place. Never mind. Raymond gave me a quote that was almost half of Mo's and then I got a drive home from the yenta accountant.

At the end of the ride, the accountant had words for me. I've noted my thoughts, unspoken, in {}.

"I'm not sure if I should say anything {Go with that. But of course you'll say it anyway} But I'll say it anyway. {He's actually parking the car . . . Oh Jesus . . . } You know last year I pushed, I encouraged, Raymond to ask you out. He came to me after you came and asked me what I thought of you and I said she seems very nice and he thought you were nice, too. And you know I have a daughter. Did you know that. How old are you? Well mine is thirty-four and her mother and I are getting worried, you know. The older you get, you become petrified in your ways and your less and less likely to meet someone you fit with. I've known Mr Oh for a long time since Korea. In high school. So I think of Raymond almost like a son. So I worry that he's not dating. You understand? {Oh God. Don't look at your watch. Don't look at your watch. Nod. Nod!} So I encouraged him to ask you out. Then after you left last year, he didn't mention you again and I didn't say anything but then after a while I asked him what happened. He told me he was late. I said to the bastard, if you ask a woman out then you get there on time! {My thoughts exactly.} He said his father made him stay longer and I said to him then you tell your daddy that you need to get somewhere and you leave! {Oh I get it. He didn't want his dad to know he was going out on a date . . . So sad when that happens.} You know, Raymond never went to university. Did you know that? {Right . . . Where are you going with this? Shake your head with straight face.} Well he didn't! {Don't laugh. Straight face.} I think, you know, I pushed him to ask you out but he was intimidated, you know, Miss Kim. {Who the hell's Miss Kim? Oh God, he thinks I'm Kim! . . . Oh forget it.} Raymond's family goes to the same church as we do so I know his family. His sister blah blah . . . but Raymond is a really nice boy blah blah . . . {Man, this guy is going on. Oh Christ. Please end. End!} . . . You won't find jewels just lying on the sidewalk. {Well . . . } No! You won't find jewels that way. You have to go looking for them. {Lavalife sucks.} No definitely not. {I suppose. Nod.} Ok. Now not a word to anyone about this. {Who would I tell?} Ok, yes, yes, I'll see you tomorrow. Bye!"

As he drove off, I glimpsed his most self-satisfied face through the window as he smiled and waved magnanimously good-bye. I gave a friendly wave in return. He relieved his conscience and satisfied his need to impress wisdom, and I was kind enough to oblige him. I pick up my car in the morning with my mom.