Weird Is the New Normal

http://warner.blogs.nytimes.com/2009/02/12/extraordinary-people/?scp=1&sq=weird&st=cse

This article has me frying just a little bit… The writer’s opinion is that she is weird, and that her children are also a little weird. (She doesn’t say weird or eccentric often… she prefers the negative implication of “not normal” to serve her point.)
I think I’m weird. But I’m weird in a totally conventional way. Yes, so I make up my own language when flustered or aggravated, and nearly every minute of every day in society situations feels uncomfortable and bizarre.
But then again, I’d wager that everyone I’ve discussed the subject with describes themselves as weird. Maybe I just happen to surround myself with strange people. But I don’t just describe it with bosom friends… the tiny conversational tidbit of “I think I’m weird” is such a common calling card among Western people that maybe it’d be weirder to be normal.
After all, if we want to describe ourselves as weird, we first have to define normal. So what is normal? Is normal being popular? Even popular people don’t think they’re popular. I guffawed in disbelief in high school at the homecoming queen who described herself as “weird and not that popular.” Maybe she thought she was weird because she was double jointed or could flip her eyelids inside out.
So if we’re all so weird and “different,” who is normal?

Maybe it’s a question of relevance. You can only describe yourself as weirder based on a spectrum of normal… So compared to Harold Fink (can you tell I’m heavy into “Stranger Than Fiction” lately?) you’re weird, because he’s so boring and lame, but compared to Marilyn Manson, you’d fit right in at “Leave It To Beaver.”

Though Harold was weird too, if you think about it. Who counts the number of brushstrokes when they brush their teeth?

So maybe it comes down to quantity over quality; how many quirks or idiosyncrasy you have. The woman with a house loan, a car, a husband, and a white picket fence is normal because her only quirks involve how much she loves to garden (an unsightly amount) and because she loves to dance to songs from “A Chorus Line.” The man who can only have his coffee at a certain temperature, cannot eat after 7 pm because it will affect his bowel movements, and does quantum physics in his spare time is weird, because the number of his quirks out weight or dwarf the number of her quirks.

If that’s true, I think I know very few “weird” people (which would fit a lot better with the whole definition of “weird.”) People with so many quirks or such severe idiosyncrasies only seem to exist in mental hospitals or indie movies.

That’s the real problem with describing yourself or other people with adjectives, though, isn’t it? You have to somehow decide on a standard level whether something is or isn’t something else… If a girl’s hair is 8 inches instead of 10, is it still long, or is it only considered long compared to Girl B’s hair, which is 3 inches?

It’s why I’ve never understood the new age phrase-osphy (it’s commonly called philosophy, but I call anything that can be summed up in a sentence or catchy phrase a phase-osphy) “don’t compare yourself to others.” Well… if you never compare yourself, how can you ever define yourself? You have to compare yourself because the adjectives you are using to describe yourself have a standard… if you call yourself “smart,” there must be a level of knowledge you exceed, below which you would call “stupid,” and these levels are only discovered primarily by observing what OTHER people describe as “smart.” (Ever heard someone describe themselves as “smart” because they can alphabetize their DVD collection?)

With that in mind, I consider myself perfectly average…. Read, normal. I got normal grades in school. I’ve traveled more than some people, but less than others. I enjoy singing the shower more than some people, but less (and done with less skill, I’m sure) than others. I have a knack for writing, but I am not among the best writers. I am, straight across the board, normal.

So, congratulations, I just answered your question. If you’re going to call yourself weird, you need a Normalcy measuring stick first… and here I am. So if you are weirder than me, you have all rights to call yourself strange, weird, and not normal. If you are less weird than I am, then, away to “Leave It to Beaver” and Ohio with you!