On Bad News

     Every Jewish family has a rabbi in it somewhere, in spirit if not pedigree.  Mine has Uncle Mel.  He was not religious by any means, but he was Talmudic in the sense of always looking for explanations.  I never met him; he was back in Europe.  I only know him through his photograph and his writing.  One of his books, eventually published by his son under the hip title The JewTao, was a mishmash of Eastern philosophy and Eastern European flummery.  It was a quintessential text in a kind of Meshuggenah Zen, written during an aggravated bout of colitis my aunt said.

     The Book, as it has come to be called in our family, records  many useful hints like the eight classic ways of telling bad news.  This is worth noting, if not actually studying, because, as any fool knows, the chances of having rotten things to report are as numerous as the stars; the opportunities for hunky-dory ones as scarce as, well, hunky dories.  Hence the phrase.

     In any case, these are the eight classic means of reporting bad news:

Ramming:  The blunt approach.  Giving it directly like a news report, without empathy or even any hint of commiseration.  Example: “About your dog.  It’s dead.”

Piddling:  More subtle but less clear.  Dropping not-so-vague hints until the full story is told.  As in:  “Your dog is not doing very well.  Not at all.  As a matter of fact, it’s even worse than that, if you get my drift.”

Okazing:  From the Russian Okaziya, a delivery by someone already going that way.  This involves telling someone else who you know will see the person soon enough and can’t keep their big mouth shut.  To wit: “If you see Plotkin, don’t forget to give him the money I owe him.  And by the way, did you hear about his dog.  Oy, what a tragedy.”

Distressing:  Adopting a profoundly sad look that forces the person to ask you what is going on, which in turn forces you to answer.  “What’s the matter with you? You look terrible.”  “Do I?  I’m not surprised.  If only you knew what I knew then you’d know why.”  “Know what?”  “Well, since you ask…it’s about your dog…”

  

Inkeeping:  The least aggressive approach, risking very little.  This involves saying nothing at all and just knowing it for yourself.  “What a rotten day today is.”

Mything:  As in “mything the point.”  Telling an analogous story that reveals the fact, but only if the listener is actually listening for it.  “I just can’t imagine someone like Mrs. Feldman coping with the loss of her aunt.  I mean I know she was an old lady, but still, losing her like that must have been a terrible shock….worse even than the case with your old dog.”

Pastelling:  Talking about it as if it had already happened and everyone was over it by now therefore so should the listener be.  “I mean everyone is so distraught, you almost feel like trying to cheer them up rather than sink into despair yourself.”  “Over what?”  “Your dog of course.”

Edging:  A very tricky approach in which you creep up on the whole truth with little steps in order to dull the blow.  “He was sick of course.  I mean actually quite sick.  Well quite doesn’t really cover it, I mean he was very sick if you must know.  I mean…pretty much dead really.”