Strength With Compassion

how to define a gentleman

My dad was upset that I missed a meeting of the KA Housing Corporation. He was particularly upset because the project was, in part, my idea, and his involvement was entirely my idea. He tried to call when I didn’t show up for work. He tried to call when I was late for the meeting. He tried to call the rest of the day, but I couldn’t be found. This was before everyone had a cellphone in their pocket. I had one in my car, though.

My dad had always been an advocate for the underdog. That I inherited this trait from him shouldn’t have surprised anyone. I decided not to tell him that I missed the meeting, and vanished for the rest of the day, because I was talking somebody off a ledge in Memphis.

I kept my personal life pretty damn personal, even from my father. When it came to women, he’d sometimes say, “What happened to that blonde girl?” or “Are you sleeping with that one with the curly hair?”

Saying “I was for about a year, but I’m not now,” was about as much truth as I’d tell him. “She’s a bitch, and she was just in it for the money,” Is something I left out because she worked for him.

I have a sixth sense about the wounded. I can find them like I have radar. In a city with a growing homeless population and some civic organizations on the brink of failure, that often meant I was pretty busy. It also meant that sometimes I would stop to listen to somebody because they were crying, and end up romantically entangled with them.

“It’s not fair to take advantage of women when they’re vulnerable.”

This is something I absolutely believe. But, I also know that, if you stop to listen to somebody, then end up spending time listening to them as they vent their woes, and they’re pretty, eventually you might kiss. Then things get complicated.

There were some brilliant woman I kept time with, but I appreciated their time so much that I sometimes ended up keeping that connection very platonic, even if I didn’t want to.

In KA, we talked a lot about the concept of gentlemanlyness. Robert E Lee wrote this long paragraph about how to define a gentleman, which always sounded to me like a quiet plea for the Yankees to quit punishing us after the war, but was built around the idea of strength with compassion.

Separately, both strength and compassion can get you in trouble. Compassion is how Jesus died. Strength is how Caesar died. Together, though, you had something like the definition of a good king, and in his own life, every man is a king.

Even though I missed the meeting, the renovation of the KA Mansion still happened. They ended up having to sue the contractor over some issues, but the job was done. Missing that meeting led to conversations with my dad about, “Why are you so goddamn unhappy?”

These led to conversations about my yearly vacations in Los Angeles, and how I should pursue the gifts I had in life, not his. I wasn’t expecting it, but my father became my advocate, and we began discussing early elements of an escape plan for Boyd.

I still didn’t involve him in the stories about the women in my life. My best friends weren’t informed of my adventures with the fair sex. Often, the women I was sleeping with didn’t know who else I had slept with.

When Tom Lewis comes to town, the question of “did you ever bang her?” Sometimes comes up. Friends can use words like “bang.” I don’t bang, or at least I try not to, but I will use that word. Forty years later, I’m finally able to be honest about these things. Often, these questions are actually a way to find out if we had, at some point, crossed streams, like they did in Ghostbusters. I’m happy to say we didn’t, but it got close.

Sometimes people read my stories and wonder if all my relationships with women were horrible. I don’t mean to give that impression, but those stories might be more interesting. The times when I met, danced with, kissed, loved, and then parted, might make a nice song, but it’s not that great a story.

Sometimes, I went through hell with somebody, and it still worked out ok. My friend Melissa is like that. If anybody ever heard our story, they might wonder how we’re still friends. They won’t ever hear that story, though, unless they were there when it happened. We’re not just friends. She’s one of my dearest. She’s somebody I would tell things I wouldn’t tell anybody else. That we’re still friends is due to the fact that, despite having a pretty rough year long ago, she’s remarkable and strong and worth it.

Strength through compassion isn’t why life beat me up so much, although there were people who took advantage of it. I let life beat me up because I was confused and lost, and I pursued relationships based on “who needs me,” not “who makes me stronger.”

These days, I only form personal relationships with those who make me stronger. Some are deeply ancient attachments, like Brother Tom and especially Brent. As far as the ladies are concerned, that’s still none of your business.

Strength without compassion is brutality. Compassion without strength is weakness. Together, though—together, you create quite a remarkable third thing that can change the world.