Getting Less and Less Friendly
Okay, so I went and took that friendliness test that
narniarose had posted. I took it twice. The first time I tried to answer as if I was back in 1995, 25 years old with no kids yet. Answering as honestly as possible and to the best of my memory I scored a 92. Just like Rose.
But then I went back and answered as honestly as possible for myself in 2008, a married man with a career, moderate debt and two children.
I scored a 72. Still considered friendly, but not nearly as glowing a review.
I dropped 20 points in 13 years. If I continue on this trend, by 2021 when I am 51 I will be rated a 52 (barely tolerable, I should think), By 2034 when I am 64 and finally ready to retire I shall not be fit company for man or beast with a 32 score in the friendliness category. By 2047 when I am 77 years of age I expect the description of me may well be as follows;
You scored a 12:
Jesus himself would not walk across the street to spit on you if you were on fire, you festering pus-globule of a human being.
Of course, as a part-time optimist I am going to assume (or at least hope) that the downward spiral in friendliness has to do with lack of time and opportunity and that as parental and career responsibilities lighten up perhaps the descent into antisocialism will reverse itself. In the meantime, if anyone sees me drop below, oh, say, 60 or so, feel free to kick me in the buttocks. Not too hard, mind you; I kick back sometimes.
narniarose had posted. I took it twice. The first time I tried to answer as if I was back in 1995, 25 years old with no kids yet. Answering as honestly as possible and to the best of my memory I scored a 92. Just like Rose.
But then I went back and answered as honestly as possible for myself in 2008, a married man with a career, moderate debt and two children.
I scored a 72. Still considered friendly, but not nearly as glowing a review.
I dropped 20 points in 13 years. If I continue on this trend, by 2021 when I am 51 I will be rated a 52 (barely tolerable, I should think), By 2034 when I am 64 and finally ready to retire I shall not be fit company for man or beast with a 32 score in the friendliness category. By 2047 when I am 77 years of age I expect the description of me may well be as follows;
You scored a 12:
Jesus himself would not walk across the street to spit on you if you were on fire, you festering pus-globule of a human being.
Of course, as a part-time optimist I am going to assume (or at least hope) that the downward spiral in friendliness has to do with lack of time and opportunity and that as parental and career responsibilities lighten up perhaps the descent into antisocialism will reverse itself. In the meantime, if anyone sees me drop below, oh, say, 60 or so, feel free to kick me in the buttocks. Not too hard, mind you; I kick back sometimes.