Am I a wuss?

As I enter the "golden years," I've noticed several distinct signs of aging:

• The graying of facial and chest hair.
• A shrinking bladder that results in trips to the bathroom every 45 minutes.
• Falling asleep on the couch by 8:30. On Fridays.
  
• And, oh yeah, potentially turning into an oversensitive, thin-skinned pus*y.

For the majority of my life, it has been virtually impossible to offend me. I embrace my self-deprecating sense of humor and I not only encourage, but I demand that my friends get in on the action.

And they have not disappointed. Through the years, I've been subjected to jokes about my religion, my upbringing, my ex-girlfriends, a startling inability to count (most often seen while gambling) and bouts with abdominal overhang, among others. I'd like to think that nobody laughs harder at these jokes than I do. After all, if you can't laugh at yourself, who can you laugh at?

By and large, I am not an emotional person. I tend to roll with the punches. In fact, my wife would be thrilled if one day I climbed a couple of notches on the emotional response scale to the level of "your soul is an empty void of all humanity."

An example: a year ago, I was driving on the highway when an SUV in front of me lost control, flipped over a couple of times and came to rest upside down in a shallow ditch off the road. I pulled over, ran down to the vehicle, helped a very shaken (but uninjured) driver out of the SUV, called police, waited with her and once the cops arrived and took my statement, I left. Not unusual, right?

Here's the rub: Not once during the entire episode did I ever think about the fact that the woman could have died, the truck could have erupted in flames or exploded while I helped her out, or that the out-of-control SUV came within a couple of feet of hitting my car. And by the time I did think about these things, I was already on the way home and realized that none of these things happened, everyone was OK and that was that. I didn't lose sleep over it. I didn't dwell on it for days. I was over it.

Strange? Probably. Do I require intensive psychological evaluation? Almost certainly. But that is just how I function. I am about as sensitive as a pet rock.

And now that I've spent 421 words setting the stage, it should surprise absolutely no one that my reaction (over-reaction?) to a Facebook comment recently started in motion a string of events that culminated in the end of a friendship.

Yep, that's right. I was, for some reason, put off by a handful of words that somebody typed online. Somebody shoot me. Now.

It isn't necessary to divulge the identity of the other person. He is not a regular reader or contributor to this blog and does not live anywhere near me.

It also isn't necessary to go into a great deal of detail about what happened. I will say that I expressed my feelings to this person and tried to resolve the issue a few different times. However, he did not believe the comment was offensive, refused to apologize for it, and by not doing so, ultimately decided that it would be best to part ways.

As someone who says whatever is on my mind, I have inadvertently offended people on numerous occasions. I often find myself apologizing, even if I don't understand why the other person was ticked off, because to not apologize would send a message that their feelings are irrelevant. "Hey, don't be so sensitive. If you don't like it, too bad." Sure, it would be nice to take that approach, but I am reasonably certain that if I did, the only person I'd have left to speak with is my dog.

Although she is not much of a talker. I wonder if it was something I said.

Now that this falling out has concluded, I found myself in a very strange position - trying to deal with um, I believe they are called...feelings:

• Bewilderment
• Sadness
• Frustration
• Anger
• Amusement (at the absurdity of the situation. After all, if you can't laugh at yourself, who can you laugh at?)
  

So this is what it's like to feel emotion? Odd....

I have no regrets. Did I overreact to a mostly harmless Facebook comment? In hindsight, perhaps I did. But in my view, this quickly transitioned from bitching about a Facebook comment to an issue of principle. Sure, I don't have many principles - besides always hitting on a soft 18 and never ordering a drink with an umbrella - but as cheesy as it sounds, I've always tried to treat others the way I would like to be treated (with the notable exception of my sister). If that includes apologizing for something I said, even if it is mostly as a goodwill gesture, then so be it. In this case, this person choose not to offer a similar level of reciprocation.

Still...a Facebook comment? Really? What in the world of Hallmark is wrong with me? Is this the beginning of the end? Will I soon be crying over those cheesy inspirational features that will be televised at the next Olympics?

"21 year old bobsledder Mike Jones may not be the favorite to win a medal, but just getting to Vancouver is a lifetime accomplishment. His story starts with a bizarre skee-ball accident involving his pet hamster that happened when he was 6..."

Jesus. I feel the need to apologize to anyone reading this. Just for the hell of it.