Competition is something I don’t like. I have no use for it. I think it brings out some of the worst in people, not the best. It turns people against one another instead of turning humans to one another for support. If competition produces accomplishments, cooperation and mutual support can produce much more.
In the just-finished Winter Olympics, we saw what competition leads to—a lot of hoopla for very little. If anything, modern Olympics games have lowered healthy competition to the point of absurdity. Athletes strive relentlessly, work their whole lives, push their bodies and minds to their absolute limits to win by hundredths of a second. But then many people don’t watch the Olympics for the competition; they watch to see the spectacular stumbles by elegant figure skaters and crashes by downhill racers at stunning speeds.
But what do I know? All my life, I’ve had that gay boy syndrome of “I can’t do it anyway, so why bother? There are so many more fabulous things to do.” It’s a form of self-protection. You’re not going to get picked--you really don’t want to get picked--for the team, so look the other way. I spent many a recess on the school playground muttering, “Don’t pick me. Please don’t pick me.”
There are things I will definitely not compete for.
> Love: There’s plenty to go around; why would one compete for love?
> Money: I have plenty, thanks, no need to get greedy.
> Medals: They just become so much dust-collecting stuff.
> Recognition: I’m already recognized in enough places.
> Parking Spaces: Unless I am driving a Humvee or a tank with a ram on it.
> Spots in line at Trader Joe’s.
> Prizes: More stuff to dust every now and then.
On the other hand, some things are worth competing for, such as:
> A seat on the bus: fine, if you must stand at the front of the bus, but just get out of my way, please.
> A spot at yoga class: how else am I to find the peace of Buddha?
> The bathroom in the morning: you’d better get out of my way now.
> A viewing point to at least try to see a great painting at a crowded Denver Art Museum exhibit.
> My favorite table at my favorite coffeehouse (no, I’m not saying where because you’ll probably try to take it.)
> Chocolate: anytime, anywhere, anyhow.
Though I exude gay disdain for competition, I do nonetheless indulge in it from time to time and then with determination fit for a queen. Life is complicated.
March 2014
About the Author
Nicholas grew up in Cleveland, then grew up in San Francisco, and is now growing up in Denver. He retired from work with non-profits in 2009 and now bicycles, gardens, cooks, does yoga, writes stories, and loves to go out for coffee.
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