Semantics and Social Graces

Years ago I worked for a gunsmith. It was a temporary gig that I did as a favor to my husband, who was eager to see his friend successful. Despite this man's lack of skill in managing his business, the gunsmith was highly successful at one thing: getting into his customer's heads.

If someone came into his shop and asked for a softer trigger, the gunsmith played 20 Questions with the customer until he could confidently define what the term "softer" meant for that specific customer. This semantic investigation allowed him to get the job done right the first time, and even though this took him months or even years to get around to, his customers (navy seals and other specialty military personnel) were very pleased with the final outcome.

From this experience I learned that we all have very different definitions of clearly defined words. Confidential is another term that I have learned has a wide variety of meanings for various individuals. I interpret this to mean, "Please don't share this," and my brain makes it just go away. I take that request seriously.

Trust is a rare commodity in this world, and even if I am not able to offer any other gift, it is something I have learned to be quite competent at over the years. If there is any question in my mind, I will ask, "Is it okay if I tell...?" If the grantor of said confidential information say no, then I won't share it. Oddly, everyone's definition of confidential is so vastly different that I now take complete responsibility when someone breaks my trust, knowing that I should have known better in the first place.

Over the years of being a childless soul, I have had great insurance. I occasionally required medical procedures like scans from banging my head down down icey cement stairs. I have also had ultrasounds on various parts of my body. It never occurred to me personally that the term "ultrasound" would be isolated to prenatal use only.

For the past month I have had persistent pain just below my rib cage in the location where the gall-bladder sits. Not once did I think, "It must be a problem with the babies." I knew when it started, and I knew that it was far away enough from the babies that it was something different. Since radiation isn't an option when you are pregnant, I finally went in for an ultrasound on the area when the pain took me down in tears.

I missed church last week to rest (since the pain doesn't allow me to sleep), and mentioned to someone that I'd had an ultrasound on the area. Little did I know that this translated in several minds to "problems with the babies." Today my most beloved pointed out my faux pas in using the term "ultrasound." It had never occurred to me that someone would take what I said to mean that there were baby problems, but that's semantics for you.

Finally, I have been astounded to find the variety of individual interpretations of social graces. I was raised in a home where certain topics were considered socially taboo. We were taught, for instance, never to ask someone's age, income, or intimate details of their lives. Having received questions in all of the above categories from friends, associates, and even complete strangers, I have come to the conclusion that social graces fall under the class of rapidly disappearing virtues. I am not sure what the fascination is with needing to know personal details of one's neighbors or associates. Whatever the cause, it makes me cherish ever more those individuals who are endowed with such attributes as social graces and restraint.

Disclaimer: I did take all of the above photographs, under personal copyright. During my time working with this gunsmith I learned a great appreciation for the meaning behind the most simple word, the art of fine weapon craftsmanship and among other things, the value of epoxy impregnated glass grips in desert environments. 


**If the beauty of the above weapons doesn't fit your personal tastes, perhaps these will be more to your liking: