Must Be Rough

I’m continually tickled by the criticism of a very few Tolkien fans, and some of them are begging to be teased. Not sure if this will be the last post I make about this, and I’m stating right up front that I’m really resisting the urge to cut loose with some major ribbing which frankly, might be too good to pass up later. I will come with this — sheesh, the worst criticism they can make of Richard Armitage is that he’s good looking with a bunch of female fans? ROFLOL! That’s all they’ve got?! LOL! Phew! that every male actor could be so lucky! :D

What I’m about to say I may regret later, but heck, if I can’t say something like this, then there’s no benefit in being anonymous.

All of the rhetoric flying around just goes with the territory of receiving recognition. There are always sour grapes. It’s unavoidable as I so painfully learned. Before I started working for myself, I was fortunate enough to receive a few awards from the corporation where I worked, and at one point I got so many awards, that I actually began dreading them. During one fourth quarter meeting, my name was called for an award, and I said, “Shit!” under my breath. I had learned I was going to catch some hell for being recognized. What really hurt is someone made a crack within my hearing that I only got the award because a couple of the “bosses” thought I was good looking. I actually teared up about that (oh to have such a trial! LOL!). When a friend of mine asked me what was wrong, I told him what was said and bemoaned it. He rolled his eyes and laughed, “Oh, it must be hell to have it that rough?” When I got over that stinging comment, he looked me in the eye and said, “Did you do something deserving of that award or not?” I nodded, and then he went on, “Are you going to let a handful of people ruin your hard work?!” I shook my head no. This was such a pivotal moment because the negative cracks had made my young self very insecure about being taken seriously. I wanted so desperately to be taken seriously. If my friend had not given me such good counsel or if he had felt the need to defend me, I’m not sure I would have dismissed the pettiness so quickly.

One more personal anecdote.

As I said in an earlier post, my son is a runner. Along the way, he’s had some very lofty goals, he’s also worked tremendously hard, and he’s been able to achieve almost all of his goals. This has not only brought him a great deal of praise but is going to pay for a big chunk of his college education — whether he becomes injured or not. Yea! Yea! Yea! Sorry, I’m still rejoicing over that. LOL! But mixed in with all of these accomplishments has been some negative murmuring. There are the naysayers who have actually had the gall to say he “stole” races from his competitors or the most laughable — that he “got lucky.” They had to say something when they lost over and over and over. Thankfully, I knew this just comes with the territory of winning and was able to counsel my son with some sanity, “Are you going to let a few petty people eclipse the goodness?” Smart boy that he is, the answer was no. And thankfully, I didn’t get sucked into defending him. His achievements stand on their own; no need for momma to legitimize them.

That’s how I think of these negative comments about Richard Armitage from a miniscule number of people. His accomplishments can stand on their own. He has no need of the fans to defend, and the handful of critics should not have a strong enough voice to drown out his or our joy. Further, the few negative comments are just a sign that he’s getting somewhere. In fact, if he weren’t getting any negative comments, I would be wondering if he were really gaining in popularity. So some negative is a a good sign. Anyone striving at something and receiving some negative means they’re having some effect. Let me say that another way. If you’re not receiving some negative comments, you’re probably not doing anything. No one is praised all the time. It just doesn’t work that way.

In the meantime, I’m confident Richard Armitage is wise enough to quickly put negative remarks in perspective. Mostly I picture him humbly basking in the dream come true and wearing a sweet looking smile something like this:

No, I’m not saying anything new, but sometimes it’s good to hear these things again.

edit: I don’t look anything like I used to look. These days I look very much like someone’s mother or their grandmother if I’m really being candid. When I was young, SO used to get on me about being so negative about how I looked. He told me all the time I was beautiful and a lot of other people did as well, but the sad truth is if you don’t feel beautiful, it doesn’t matter what anyone says to you. Thankfully, I got over that kind of self-consciousness and frankly, self-centeredness. And I’m totally okay with how I look these days. Quite a few years ago, I finally got to the point where I’m comfortable in my own skin, and that is priceless to me. Better than ever being someone considered nice looking.

Since You Asked

This is a tangent post, which means little or no Richard Armitage, so you can skip it if you’re only here for Richard. :D But this is also a reply to the readers who have sent me notes wondering why I have cut back on posting regularly about RA. I really appreciate your interest. It makes me want to get back to posting regularly much sooner, but please know that I’ll be back posting about our favorite guy in the next week.

In the meantime, I just thought I would share a little about what takes me away from this blog at times. I have two other favorite guys — SO and this one (aka son of SO):

The boy in the front is how I think of him. That’s his usual position on the track. Of course I’m not proud. ;-)

Seriously, this kid has run his backside off, and he doesn’t have much backside to begin with. He has earned first position, but more than that, he is just a great person. Yes, I’m biased! I admit freely that I’m proud he’s my son. It’s hard not to be proud when I consider his stellar character which has influenced his peers for the good. He in no way puts himself in first position when he’s off a racecourse. Kindness just pours out of him — the sort to quickly come to the aid of old women, and his friends have followed suit. This is the part of him of which I’m most proud, and his friends are not the only ones affected for the good. He’s made SO and I and several other adults I know want to be better people.

I’ve now spent over 10 years going to track and cross country meets and seven of those years were to watch my son. I should have known this was my fate when I took up with SO, who was a serious runner and now a phenomenal coach. But the regular meets are about to come to an end next weekend, and I have to confess part of me is relieved. The other part of me doesn’t want to think about it. By mid-August, my son will be gone from home, and SO and I are grieving this. It’s really hard for us to even talk about it without breaking down, but I guess today I can’t help but talk about it hence this post.

Thanks for letting me indulge my maudlin self, and I’ll be back next week to talk about Richard.