Like my school reports.
No “excellents”, no “chronic failures” – just “good”.
It didn’t
tell anyone anything.
These two are probably "good" – and that's all good. Photo / Pexels / RDNE Stock My parents were aspirational for me, but my science master told them I was only “good”, though I might “come right in the spring”.
The science master meant I was destined for mediocrity. And he was right, because nearly 60 springs later, nothing’s changed – I am still good.
It must be a generational thing, or it’s in the genes.
Because when I ask my kids, “How was your day?”, I get back: “Good.”
What does that tell me? How was your $10,000 school culture trip to the USA? “Good.”
See what I mean?
But they learned “good” from the best.
I was with their uncle when he met up with a dyed-in-the-wool cocky client one day.
The chat went like this.
“G’day, Gordon, how are you?”
“Good, thanks, Frank. You?”
“Good, thanks, Frank. Good weather.”
“Yeah, it is good. How’s Mary?”
“She’s good.”
You getting the picture here?
“Margaret?”
“Yes, she’s good too.”
“Business good, Gordon?”
“Yes, good, thanks.”
“Okay, see you soon.”
“Good-o.”
I was starting to wonder – how did I get caught in this serving of mindless pap?
Was it a corny TV skit? Were they extracting the urine? Was I missing something?
Later in the car, I asked the uncle how that conversation advanced man’s knowledge or understanding of anything.
Did he learn anything good from all those goods?
“He is a man of few words, one of which is ‘good’,” my uncle said.
“It’s partly about economy of words. Why use 10 words when one will do?
When he tells me he is good, it tells me he is fit, hearty and happy doing what he loves most – farming.
“When he says business is good, it tells me he might be buying a new John Deere or Range Rover in the New Year, and he will be renewing our contract.
“When he says Margaret’s good, it tells me he still loves and cares for the woman as much as he did when he married her 54 years ago.”
So, all is good. And that’s good.
