NPD and practicality

synonyms EXPEDIENT, POLITIC, ADVISABLE mean dictated by practical or prudent motives. EXPEDIENT usually implies what is immediately advantageous without regard for ethics or consistent principles

EFFECTIVE, EFFECTUAL, EFFICIENT, EFFICACIOUS mean producing or capable of producing a result. EFFECTIVE stresses the actual production of or the power to produce an effect

capable of being put to use or account : USEFUL <he had a practical knowledge of French>

That last short thingie is practical, and it is what I isn’t. One of the major signs/symptoms of narcissistic personality disorder (NPD) is lack of practicality, and that is one area where I shine.  Jeez, where do I start?  For one thing, in seventh grade, I had a girlfriend who was a Seventh-Day Adventist–not the most practical choice for a horny teenager.  (By the way, her name was Nancy Stouffer, and I am pretty sure she is the same Nancy Stouffer who writes children’s book and sued J. K. Rowling for stealing her ideas–gee, maybe she has NPD, too.  But I digress.)

A phrase which I have used over and over in my life has been “Well, it seemed like a good idea at the time.”  For things like seeing if my Porsche could go zero to 60 to zero in the driveway of  my apartment complex–it couldn’t–I totalled the car AND a neighbor’s patio.  That wasn’t too practical, never mind I was stoned out of my gourd on speed and cheap champagne.  Before that, in college, I was a liberal arts English major–again, nothing too practical there, except I had this vague idea of getting a doctorate  and a tweed sport coat with leather elbow patches and teaching composition at some prep school somewhere. When I was interviewed for my first real job, civil service information writer, the interviewer said something like “You do realize, nothing you learned in college will be any use to you here.”  Okay, that WAS a slight exaggeration, but not much.

Then there was the time I got married, mainly because the woman had been my little sister’s best friend in high school. Never mind I was 12 years her senior and we had nothing in common except belonging to Mensa and liking to get high. Our divorce was final the same year we got married–’nuff said.

And speaking of Mensa–talk about NPD heaven!  Jesus, you could hear the egos rubbing together a mile away–kind of like the jolly green giant in new corduroys.

But the supreme impracticality was my decision to abandon a high-paying job and comfy townhouse apartment–not to mentioin trivia like my birth family, and what acquaintances and fellow Mensans I knew that I mistook for friends.  When I told my fellow bureaucrtas what I was doing (by then, I had been advanced to drug and alcohol program specialist, a sinecure I accepted in return for not blowing the whistle on some egregiously ilegal shit the governor’s office had been up to at the time), many of the men said enviously “Gee, I wish I culd do that.” I usually replied,”Oh you could–if you had the balls.”  As if I had any inkling of what I was getting into.

At the time, SuSu wa a single mother on welfare, working as a mail-order psychic  reader, doing readings at festivals, growing pot and subsistence-shoplifting. Since the state deducted a buck from her check for every buck she earned, there was little incentive to go for big earnings, but she hung in, courageously investing what she could in ads in tiny pagan newsletters and national psychic mags.  Answering one of those pagan ads was how we got together in the first place.

But I digress.  When she told me we were karmic soulmates, I somehow turned it around to mean that we sort of had to get together to work all this shit out.  I had just gotten into Wicca and stuff–stuff including a really nasty Xanax addiction–so it is probably fair to say that I was not in what I laughingly call my “right mind.” Every time we had an argument, she would threaten to break up.  I didn’t like this–narcissistic injury big-time–so I figured if we were married, she would stop doing that.  Boy, was I wrong.  And talk about doing the right thing for the wrong reason (today I am convinced that getting maried was the right thing, in spite of everything.  And my gratitude to her for hanging in there through all the pain and betrayal I inflicted on her and hers for so many years is boundless.)

So we got married in Winchester, Virginia, by the same judge who had married me to my second wife.  Nothing like continuity.  So I moved to Alaska, abandoning enough furniture and stuff to furnish an apartment, giving away stuff I had promised to SuSu (another NPD thing–as a rule, our promises are not worth a pitcher of piss).  Never mind that getting married threw her off welfare and she had to support me (we blew about $25,000 I had in my retirement fund on our extended trip from Pennsylvania to here).  Never mind that I had NO useful trade skills–there isn’t much use for a PR guy in the valley here.  Never mind that I had NO survival skills and hated snow and cold weather (hey, no one told ME there was snow on the ground six months out of the year, and that illustrates still another NPD thing–blaming others for our actions.  “Look what you made me do” is a classic NPD line.)  Never mind I loved luxery and comfort and convenience–and here I was, moving into SuSu’s place, which she  accurately described as “a squalid hovel.”  In the summertime–when things were best–mushrooms grew out of the floor and ants crawled over her son’s face as he slept.  But I digress.

Meanwhile, her psychic reading business was going to shit because during our courtship, she wrote long letters to me (at my request–more narcissistic supply–and then didn’t bother reading them since I got loaded as soon as I got home from work and got the mail, and then figured I didn’t have to  read them since we talked on the phone every day) instead of doing her client work.  This is just one of zillions of examples of how much damage NPD folks can inflict without really trying–imagine what we can do when we TRY.

I could document many other instances (the great boom box fiasco is worth a whole blog in itself, I have decided), but I think the point has been made.  Today, I am SO much better–I grow much of our food in my garden, make a nice bit of money on the side doing small engine repair, do arts and crafts during the winter months to sell at my stand in the summer, read to the blind–yeah, right.  Fact is, I still go fluting off into the fucking ozone at the drop of a metaphor.  I am still way better at being politic than at being practical, and efficiency is something I can only aspire to.  Once in a very great while, I manage to rise to adviseable.

Like when I got SuSu to make a SALE sign I could parade around with to drum up business at my stand.  I had my best Tuesday sales of the whole season that day, even though I was the only vendor open.  (Usually, I depend on spill-over from bigger and/or more well-established vendors for most of my business.)

Selling knives online was my idea–haven’t sold one yet, as far as I know–but it was SuSu who made it happen.  I hadn’t had a clue as to how to make a website happen.  Still don’t, for that matter.  My family is STILL trying to teach me how to cut and paste.  I did it once under close supervision, maybe I could do it again by myself.  They should make training wheels for these computer thingies.

At least today, you can tell me how impractical my ideas are and I won’t want to kill you.  That’s real progress.

Meanwhile, I have been neglecting to mention the therapeutic process.  That is, how  has it come about that today I am slightly less of an obnoxious fuck-up than I was four or five months ago.  For one thing, I have been asking God to take away and/or add what is needed for me to become a more complete human being.  For another, I have done scores of shamanic journeys to consult with one of my guiding spirits (“power animals” in shaman-speak) on how to deal with  this bullshit.  Plus, SuSu has invested hours and hours confronting me, forcing me to look at myself–only not  using a mirror this time.  And therein lies the key.

E. J. Gold, one of the new age writers who has influenced SuSu and myself, has writtten that the only real power we humans have is the power of our focussed attention.  In various ways I have been helped to focus my attention on my disfunctional behavior, in order to amend it, and myself.  For some odd reason, this seems to be working.

Odder still, I find myself, feel myself, changing within.  I  don’t always welcome being corrected, but I don’t resent it. Sometimes. I no longer view criticism as an attack on my personhood.  Usually. I don’t have to be in the spotlight, drawing the attention of a largely indifferent crowd.  Most of the time.  I can pay attention to others and to their feelings.  As long as there are no bright shiny objects nearby.

Still and all, it is so easy to erase the little bit of progress I have made–the lapse of attention for an instant, and I am back in the old habits and patterns of a lifetime.  Habits and patterns that repelled, annoyed, and disgusted people for nearly half a century.  Habits and patterns that left me resentful, bitter, and alone. 

Habits and patterns I intend to transcend.

Updated

More on Narcissistic Personality Disorder (NPD)

That is one of the numerous things “wrong” with me.  I have been blogging about my own progress in recovery, going through a list of specific behavioral symptoms one at a time.  The ones I will deal with in this and the blogs immediately proceeding have one thing in common–they are all ones I have some sort of blind spot (holy crap, talking about blind spots–I am writing this the day after writing the stuff in black, and SuSu pointed out enough blind spots to require a platoon of  guide dogs.  So now I am gong to go through this thing and try to make it more honest, although it may turn out to have a lot more “I don’t knows” than I like).about, ones that I omitted checking off, but which SuSu noted as being particularly distressful or troublesome.

“Selfishness: he thinks of himself first, gets what he wants, and the heck with anyone else.”  I have been selfish all my life.  I didn’t know the difference betwen selfishness and self-indulgence, and self-esteem.  My relationships were always characterized by shallowness and briefness (both of these being specific NPD traits)–I didn’t want anyone getting between me and myself.  I lived by myself, went on vacations by myself (okay, I took along my stuffed animals) and went camping on weekends by myself. The more I was alone, the better I liked it.This was more or less true.  The self-serving trick I was doing was, I was saying “See, look how terrible I used to be years and years ago, and how wonderful I am now.” Fact, is, I am not all that fucking great now, and what is becoming increasingly, appallingly apparent to me now is that I am better at kidding myself than I am my sweety. This process is becoming a whole lot more like work than I am happy with, and only the facts that one, SuSu is doing this with me because she loves me and has our best interests at heart, and two, it IS helping me is making this tolerable.

That has changed a bit.  Years ago, I gave up shamanic work because of  my last five clients, one paid in Japanese yen and four didn’t pay at all.  Today, I do work for at least one client on a daily basis, I am not sure whether he is paying or not, and I don’t care.  I know that doing the work benefits me as well–maybe this is still selfishness, maybe enlightened self-interest. SuSu just interrupted me to point out some particularly heinous stuff I perpetrated in the past.  When I got here, I had this weird cat phobia, didn’t want them on me or around me, so her house cats were banished to the yard.  They had kittens in the junked cars in the yard instead of in the house. SuSu and her son suffered, and I paid in that it was years before I learned of the joys of catitude. Many of them  became feral and/or died. Realizing this, I feel like shit, now that I have evolved into an unabashed critter-lover–cats, dogs, voles, interesting-looking bugs, whatever.  What I had intended to add here was how really self-serving my “wahoo aren’t I great maybe pro bono shamanic stuff” really is.  When I started doing my latest round of journeys, the stated purpose was for my own therapy. Helping someone else was really an afterthought, probably motivated by the thought of maybe being paid anyway.  Have I mentioned that laziness is another NPD thing?  Anyway, after having my attention gotten by the psychological equivalent of a two by four upside the head, I decided to stop doing “group picture” journeys, and doing one journey per stated purpose. The ironic thing is, doing a shamanic journey is probably the physically easiest work there is, maybe next to being a professional drug tester.

At my stand, I used to scheme on how much I get get from each customer; today, I see how much I can give.  Not just in value for the money by cutting prices, but by giving rock browsers information and metaphysical lore about the rocks, by mustering up patience with children, and compassion for people who are obviously in dire financial straits.  Well, there I go again.  Okay, this is kinda-sorta true, but the true truth is, one, I probably have a higher gross this way(just a smaller net profit margin).  Plus, I get lots of narcissistic supply by coming on like some fucking wise old rockhound, even though I play modest when folks are impressed by how much I seem to know and sort of tug my forelock and shuffle my feet and say “Well, I just have rocks in my head,” which is truer than they realize. I AM better at tolerating children, but only the smart, respectful ones who I can enjoy talking to.  The obnoxious brats can still go to hell.  As far as the down and out folks go, I DO feel for them–even as a kid, I knew what it was like to want something nice and just not be able to afford it.  And a few weeks ago, I DID sell a collectable comic tagged at $20 (an X-man spin-off number one) for $5, making father AND son very happy–but shit, it was still pure profit anyway, since I got the comics from a guy who offered the lot to me for $5. I have a sense of business ethics that would make a Ferengi proud. 

Until fairly recently, I was actively addicted to a number of  toxic drugs–alcohol, pot, nicotine, and pretty much anything else I could get my hands on.  And NPD or not, there is nothing more selfish on this earth than an addict who is actively using.  Today, I attend 12-step meetings to share my “experience, strength, and hope.” I post information on the harmful effects of drugs on internet bulletin boards, and encourage people who say they wish to quit.  Most of all, I have been working with SuSu to create an information/referral website dealing with recovery from all addictions  (More on this later.) Now that I am getting the hang of this color-changing thing, I decided to have some fun with it. Okay, now that I got that out of my system, it is time to get real again.  Once more, a skillful blend of half-truth and self-serving omissions.  Sure, I go to meetings–SuSu drives.  For a while, I got a lot of narcissistic supply out of saying cute things and getting big laughs, and I still relapse in that respect.  Lately, I am getting better in that I am straying from the 12-step party line, trying to put some C4 in a few reality tunnels.   As far as the boards go, I DO try to do some good, and I think I do, but I spend a lot more time on trivia and NPD bullshit than I do with being helpful.  That is something I intend to pay more attention to.  As far as the website goes, SuSu is doing the hard work, I’ve just been throwing out ideas (most of which, frankly, deserve to be thrown out) and writing a few things which she puts more work into editing than I probably do into to writing the damn things.

Sure, I’m still selfish in many ways.That is probably the most accurate statement in this whole blog.   It took over half a century for me to get this way and I don’t expect to turn everything around immediately. THIS the the real egregious shit that SuSu zeroed in on first.  My defensive rationale was that it was all I could think of to wind this up (we’re lazy, remember?)  The big problem is that this is not only canned 12-step PC crap, it is not even close to accurate.  It didn’t take long at all to develop NPD, if the experts are correct–it’s just that I been this way for the past 50 years or so. Still, I am living proof that you can teach an old fox new tricks.This was just me trying to look good again, as well as trying to sound good with a cutesy play on words.  (Next–”Lack of practicality: a narcissist does not know what the word practical means.”  After I get some other things done, and more importantly, look up the word “practical,” I will deal with that issue.) And get it right the first time, I hope.

Knives for Sale

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The fine print–terms, conditions, warranties, disclaimers and other boring legalistic stuff 

All MSRs I cite are true and accurate to the best of my knowledge, and the prices I say I charge at my stand are right on–if I’m lyin’, I’m dyin’.

All shipments will be sent USPS insured, First Class or Priority Mail.  Shipping to U.S. addresses only.  Shipping and handling charge is $3 per item; Grab Bag packages count as one item. I’ll do all the stocking, re-ordering, packing, and shipping with my own little hands, and will do my best to get your order in the mail  promptly, weather permitting. Sometimes we can’t travel due to floods, extreme cold (say, colder than 30 degrees below zero F), wind storms, icy road conditions, being snowed in, or ashfall from volcanic eruptions. 

If I have any sort of problem with filling your order promptly (out of stock, death in the family, whatever), I’ll let you know right away–I give personal service–and remember, when you deal with me, you’re not dealing with some $3 an hour lackey in Bumfuck, India; you’re dealing with the guy who owns the business.  Such as it is. 

The brand name knives are covered by manufacturers’ warranties;  all others I will carefully inspect before shipping. I assume my customers have sense enough not to use a knife as a screwdriver, prybar, hammer or whatever–I won’t sell  flimsy knives, and assume you won’t abuse them. Still, if you get a knife from me which is not covered by a manufacturers’ warranty, and which proves to be defective in materials, manufacture, or assembly within 30 days of receipt, return it prepaid and insured, along with an explanation of the defect to Greyfox’s Last Stand, HC 89, Box 451, Willow, AK 99688.  I will replace it with another of the same item, or one of comparable value if an exact duplicate is unavailable.

Everything I sell is legal in Alaska–if you order something that is illegal in your less enlightened state and get busted, that is on you.  Know your local oppressive laws and abide by them, or prepare to face the consequences.  Okay, that sounded a tad harsh, but seriously, it is the responsibility of the purchaser to know and obey local laws.

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Gerber Urban Companion

I love this guy, but if your mitts are really big, you might have a problem with one-handed opening and closing.  The lock is very strong, basically the same as the one on the Gerber Multi-tool.  The main blade  has a bead-blast finish and is half-serrated, and the built-in Fiskars scissors have a tough cylindrical spring (unlike the pathetic leaf spring you see in Victorinox Swiss Army knives with scissors–that puppy will break in six months or less if you use it every day).  The  GATOR-Tex(registered trademark) insert in the aluminum handle makes for a good grip, and like many Gerber knives, it is made in the USA. No pocket clip or pouch.
MSR, $47.95;  my price, $37.95 + $3.00 S&H.

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Gerber Chameleon III

This rascal is too big for me to handle, but if you wear large gloves, this should fit  you fine.  It is designed so your index finger fits through the ring thingie, so you have to hold it properly for knife fighting or more peaceful pursuits. (Most folks who don’t know better hold a knife like it was an ice pick or a hammer in a knife fight, and tend to lose.)  It has a  patented slide lock, which I think is stronger than most liner locks, and the blade is half-serrated.  No clip, but it comes with a nicely-made ballistic nylon belt pouch. Made in the USA. MSR, unknown, but my best guess would be around $57.95; my price, $47.95 + $3.00 S&H.

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Gerber SLG 3.25 S

I have no idea where they got the name, except that the last S probably stands for serrated, but this is a great knife.  The “First Production Run” blade mark makes it sort of collectable, and it is crafted from ATS-34 steel (my personal fave in premium steels, although it does require some care since it is high-carbon); the handle material is G-10, this high-tech synthetic stuff that is extremely strong and light. Half-serrated blade, ambidextrous thumb studs, conventional liner-lock. No pouch, but it has a pocket clip.  Imported.  MSR, $84.95; my price, $67.95 + $3.00 S&H.

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Pictured below are the three Gerber knives shown above,
for size comparison.

 

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Tom Anderson Twin Tac

This is a bit extreme, but fun.  Both blades are liner-locks, and I DO NOT recommend folding them both out at once–they are so deployed for illustrative purposes only. The handle is synthetic, but the scale material is real micarta, which is kind of neat.  (Micarta has been used for hundreds of years on knife handles; it consists of layers of cloth, cemented and cut to shape.  Micarta used to be found only on high-end knives, but in the past few years has been found on low-priced imports like this one.)  The micarta is on one side only; the scale on the side with the pocket clip is diamond-textured synthetic.  MSR, unknown.  My price at the stand is $23–mail order price is (surprise!), also $23 + $3.00 S&H.   By the way, Tom Anderson lives in Pennsylvania, and  I used to.

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Grab Bag Deal

Here’s the deal–you get three different folders, my choice. All first quality, new merchandise I got from overstock sales, ones which did not prove popular with Alaskans (and may show some shop wear) or ones that fell off the back of a truck (just kidding).  At least two will have  half-serrated  locking blades, one may  be a specialized knife, like a sailor’s knife (with turnbuckle tool, marlinspike, and sheep’s foot utility blade), or EMT knife with a wicked-looking blade designed to cut through seat belts in a hurry. At my stand, these would go for $13-$29 each–take a chance on three for $23 + $3.00 Shipping and Handling for each package of three knives. 

If you go for two or three Grab Bags at once, you will get all different knives; more Grab Bags than that and there may be duplicates, depending on what I have in stock.  In no case will you get more than one of the same knife in each individual Grab Bag.  The photo above is to give you an idea of what’s available, but do not assume all three will be from that bunch.  I do promise to do my best to give you as varied a mix as possible.  On the PayPal order form, you may specify a preference for conservative styles, more extreme or unusual knives, or a mix of styles.

Introductory offer:  orders received before midnight (Alaska Time) Oct. 11, 2003 will receive four assorted knives for the price of three.

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