Understatement

I believe in understatement; I always have.

There is great strength in low key, unobtrusive comments, claims and conditions. Instances of self-edification, braggadocio pontificating and ‘me too’ claims only serve to diminish what might be clear and honest self-examination.

As a normal, sometimes obnoxious parent, I have lectured my kids on this principle of mine. I’ve told them over the years to let other people fill in the holes, empty spaces, vapid images left undone and unspoken. Let them exaggerate and fib; not you. If they say it about you, it carries more weight than you speaking about yourself.

            

The Cretin Alumni class of 1961 has had more than its share of doctors, lawyers, and captains of industry. Yet at our reunions every ten years, I’ve never heard one of my classmates talk about their own accomplishments. The conversations usually focus on family or past historic stupid antics when we were all young and dumb, always good for a laugh.

Over the ten months I spent living in my barracks at the Presidio of San Francisco, we had a very talented pool of individuals who brought their skills to the service. One close group included an artist and designer, a master mechanic and one PFC that wanted to be a writer.

We also had two real estate entrepreneurs flipping Victorian houses, a pimp with his own street corner downtown, a drug dealer (grass only), and an early version of an Uber driver; to name a few. Most of us had some kind of side hustle, mine was working at an art theater and letting my friends in for free.

In my early days in television, I was fortunate enough to work with some of the first public television pioneers. Folks who brought their understated talents to producing great educational and instructional programming. Mixed among the group were producers, directors, and writers eager to explore this new medium of communication.

Our neighborhood in Palm Springs is also a showcase of understatement. Unless you purposely pry, it’s very hard to find out what our fellow southlanders have accomplished before moving here, mainly in retirement. Understatement in homes, automobiles, and life styles are the norm. It’s only at social events such as our semi-annual neighborhood block party that one finds themselves mingling with some pretty interesting and accomplished people.

There is the retired Chief mechanic and head pilot for all of Walt Disney’s many corporate jets. The head of the Pharmacy Department at Eisenhower Medical Center lives here along with the past head of the accounting Department for Ticketmaster / Live Nation. The head of marketing for Playboy Enterprises, worldwide tells great stories of hanging out with Christie Hefner, Hugh Hefner’s daughter and CEO of the firm.

Over time, we’ve chatted with CEOs, CFOs, and CIOs, none of which was revealed unless it came up in a casual conversation about something relevant to their past employment. A lot of these folks are DINKs (dual income, no kids) and while they have the financial where-with-all for showy toys and lots of material things, they seldom have them.

Other retirees like me are doing some interesting things and not preaching about it. It’s an atmosphere of casual understatement that I find very comfortable. As much as I am fascinated with real estate, Sharon and I have only lived in two houses in fifty-two years of marriage.

Likewise, we have only had four new cars between us during that same time period. My Ford Escape was my favorite. I would have driven that beauty into the ground if an errant driver hadn’t hastened its demise. Understatement in cars and homes and other material things is a handle Sharon and I can embrace and feel comfortable with. We’ve both worked hard all our lives. We don’t have to have things to prove it.

What really matters for us is the family time we’ve accumulated thus far.