what we can learn from dentopedology

Over the past couple of weeks, my wife and I have shared some funny stories of our own unexpected surprises when our mouths have chosen to work a little faster than our brains in certain situations. I’m sure you all have your own similar and humorous faux pas stories of “open mouth, insert foot.” It’s a condition so prevalent that the Urban Dictionary lists dentopedalogy as the “talent for putting one’s foot into one’s mouth.” These awkward occurrences always make us laugh as we recall them, but they didn’t seem so funny at the time.

I don’t always put my foot in my mouth, but if I’m lucky and the stars are all perfectly aligned, I have a special ability to get both of those suckers in at the same time.

I’m not quite sure who to attribute the quote above to, but I feel like we’re kindred spirits. As a natural introvert, I’m usually pretty reflective prior to engaging in some type of verbal engagement. I often like to think about an issue before exploring the numerous ramifications of how what I’m going to say is going to be received… that is until I’ve had a few bourbons or glasses of wine. Once that happens, all bets are off. Those magical elixirs tends to convince my brain that I have miraculously become Mark Twain or Oscar Wilde reincarnated. If you’re smiling, I’ll assume you have your own “That’s nothing, hold my beer…” story you’d like to share. The good news is that we all have them – either through personal experience or those we thankfully learned vicariously from others. I think the extensive research and literature done on this subject advises that the number one lesson learned from this important practice is to never, ever, under no circumstances ask “So, when is the baby due?”

I thought you’d enjoy one of our stories… (and yes, I did get Danielle’s permission before writing this J). The setting of the story is around 1996, when Danielle and I were stationed in Fort Benning, Georgia with the 3rd Ranger Battalion, 75th Infantry Regiment. We were relatively new to our Army career – I had been in for 3.5 years (about one year at Ranger Battalion) and we had been married for about 3. We were attending a “Hail and Farewell” function – a common organizational event held every quarter or so where we say goodbye to outgoing members of the unit and welcome the new ones. It just so happened that this particular Hail and Farewell included welcoming the incoming Battalion Commander (my boss’ boss) – Michael Ferriter and his wife.

Before I continue the story, it’s important to share some context about Ranger Battalion. Like many of its sister Infantry units, Ranger Battalions are full of extremely fit individuals – but this unit tends to take it to an extreme. The men and women it attracts all look extremely young, healthy, and physically fit (with emphasis on “young”). It is also common at these Hail and Farewell events to show up in civilian clothes. So without prior knowledge it’s pretty difficult to determine who is who. And if you’ve been reading my weekly blogs, you probably know that I’m certainly not the extraverted “shaking hands and kissing babies” kind of guy in social settings. My wife, Danielle, however is thankfully the opposite. Among her vast list of talents, she’s beautiful, extraverted, charming, gracious, and able to make engaging small talk at the drop of a hat.

It just so happened that she started a conversation with a young, fit man who she assumed was one of my platoon or company colleagues – after all, he introduced himself simply as “Mike.” During the course of their small talk conversation, Danielle shared that we had been hoping that one of our old bosses (Steve Hoogland) from Hawaii was going to get the Battalion Commander position of our current unit. We were both kind of bummed when we found out the position was being offered to someone else. Danielle shared that she had already met the Battalion Commander’s lovely wife Margie, but no such luck on meeting the man himself. Supposedly he was here tonight mingling with everyone. Mike politely smiled and said it’s a shame that this “other guy” got selected over their friend. Hopefully the new guy wouldn’t be too much of a disappointment. As the conversation continued and knowing that she was someone’s spouse, Mike asked Danielle which Ranger belonged to her. She quickly pointed me out from across the room. Without missing a beat, Danielle asked Mike who he belonged to. When Mike pointed out Margie, Danielle smiled and recovered quickly, but knew that the horse had already been let out from the stable.

Later that evening at home, Danielle related the story to me. As I had feared, Danielle had inadvertently told our new Battalion Commander that we had been hoping someone else would have landed that position. We both saw the humor and were sure that someday we would all have a big laugh about it, but at the time I wondered if my days in “battalion” were numbered. Later that week, while I was doing explosive breach entry training with my platoon, COL Ferriter came by our range while checking on unit training. After showing him a few of the techniques we were using, he pulled me off to the side and said that he enjoyed meeting Danielle at the Hail and Farewell. My stomach was doing backflips. I’m sure he could have made me sweat by reliving the whole awkward conversation, but instead he simply said, “I realize I might not have been your first choice for the job, but I hope I live up your expectations and those of this great unit.” Wow! This was my boss’ boss, telling “me” that he hoped to meet “my” expectations. I was dumbfounded. I think I was so caught off guard that I don’t even think I replied. COL Ferriter then told me to “keep up the good work” and moved back towards his vehicle. But right before he left, he looked over his shoulder with a smile and said, “I’m pretty sure I’ll remember that look on Danielle’s face when I pointed out Margie for a long time. Priceless…”

As I said before – it’s a lot funnier now. I’m also fairly confident that I have a lot more examples than Danielle of my mouth outpacing my brain in these types of situations. The words come out and we immediately experience that “whoops” feeling. You know the one I’m talking about. I guess we could save ourselves the temporary embarrassment by living the maxim “A closed mouth gathers no feet…” but that safe attitude might also encourage us to stay on the sidelines instead of stepping into the arena. Unfortunately, this week’s message doesn’t contain the approved solution for this situation. My best guidance, and the tactic I’ve adopted over the years, is simply this: If I approach and engage the world from a core set of values and norms, these often funny yet awkward social faux pas incidents tend to come from the heart – and are rarely as cringe worthy as my imagination would suggest. I also know that there are a lot more of these events destined to occur in my future, despite my experiences in the past. My mom would call them “character building” events. She would say that life is about living. Every experience, good or bad, helps in our development. I only hope that when I am on the other side of the faux pas situation, I’ll be able to handle it with as much grace as Mike Ferriter. What lessons have you learned from your personal experiences with dentopedology?