Surviving the Holidays

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Last week my wife and I took our grown children and their children on a mini-vacation to “the happiest place on earth.” For a day and a half we frolicked in the shadow of a man-made Matterhorn, thrilled to the death-defying drop at the Tower of Terror, and nearly burst with joy as our grandchildren ate Mickey-shaped waffles while merrily chatting with freakishly large Chip 'n' Dale characters. It was a dream come true.

But then the happiest place on earth turned decisively unhappy. Around noon on the second day, I noticed a boy trip and lose his shoe. The cute fellow didn’t seem the least bit upset until his father started making a big deal about something. Soon the boy was crying while his father worked himself into a veritable rage. Then, completely out of the blue, the enraged father turned in my family’s direction and began to scream at my six-year-old granddaughter Hannah.

From this moment on, the action shifted to slow motion as the enraged stranger continued to scream insults and threats while poor Hannah stood there with tears running down her cheeks.

“What happened?” my daughter Christine asked as she rushed to her daughter’s defense.

“You turn your head and pretend not to know what happened!” the raving maniac continued. “You know what happened! Your daughter viciously knocked my son to the ground!”

Within seconds of the onset of this unwarranted attack, several Disney “cast” members (the folks selling light refreshments a few feet away) sprung into action. They carefully lined up hotdogs in neat little rows and swept up imaginary dust balls. Now, I wasn’t expecting Mickey to whip off his plastic head and three-finger the demented “guest” to the ground, but I was expecting something from the staff. What unfolded instead was a continuation of an ugly scene that only ended when the man, still ranting and wailing, eventually dragged his kid off in the direction of Fantasyland. 

As if one encounter with a raving maniac in a week wasn’t enough, the day after I returned home I pulled my car into a parking space in front of a sandwich shop, opened the door, and then as visions of meatballs danced in my head, I was accosted by the fellow parked next to me. Apparently my door had bumped his door and that was enough to enrage him. The large, well-muscled stranger responded by shouting threats at me at the top of his lungs, and then when he discovered that my door had left no mark, he screamed and cursed and threatened me some more because I could have left a mark.

These two highly unexpected altercations came on the heels of an article I read a couple weeks ago. A former Wall Street trader turned researcher discovered that during extended periods of stress (such as a downturn in the economy) the human body produces cortisol to help deal with the tension. Unfortunately, after long exposures to cortisol, this healing steroid eventually turns sour and humans become highly suspicious of normal behavior. That’s right, cortisol plus time equals paranoia, which can lead to emotional outbursts and sometimes even violence.

So here’s how this all comes together. We’re slipping into what may be a long period of cortisol exposure due to a declining economy. Couple this hormonal onslaught with what could well be an adrenaline-driven holiday season, and your average citizen may be riding on a veritable wave of dangerous chemicals. Peace-loving folks who may have been completely placid last August when the economy wasn’t so bleak and they weren’t facing potentially hostile family gatherings will now be turning both paranoid and enraged from an extended exposure to cortisol and adrenaline. Ho! Ho! Holy smoke!

Anyway that’s my theory of why people seem to be more on edge lately than usual. Normally I can go weeks without a single death threat.

So what do you do when someone screams in your face and tries to bait you into a fight—for no apparent reason?

I learned an incredible and helpful response from an alert reader in Brazil who had been car jacked in Rio de Janeiro. She had read in our book, Crucial Conversations, that one of the ways to take the violence out of a situation is to quickly establish mutual purpose, which she did. She looked at the would-be carjacker and stated, “You tell me what you want and I’ll be glad to help.” The surprised thief asked her to take him to the nearest ATM and withdraw the maximum amount of cash she could, which she did. “Now what can I do?” she asked. “You can drive me across town,” he answered. When the two arrived at the appointed destination, the thief didn’t take her car, just the cash. Most importantly, he didn’t hurt her. He actually thanked her for her cooperation and then fled. Now, the skills in the book were not intended to instruct on negotiating threats of actual physical violence—obviously the best solution there is to get out as quickly as possible. But in a situation where the reader was trapped, keeping her head helped her avoid some common and possibly fatal results.

Following this reader’s lead, when the crazed guy in front of the sandwich shop tried to pick a fight with me for almost dinging his car, I was prepared. I apologized profusely several times. I then established mutual purpose by asking him what I could do to undo the possible harm. Of course, there was no actual harm to his car, but I was willing to do whatever would appease him. Now remember, I was not trying to negotiate a fair settlement. I was not trying to save face in front of others. I was not trying to look macho or feel in charge. Instead, I was doing my best to avoid getting pummeled by a guy who looked both willing and able to pummel me. And, make no mistake; he had a plan for getting there. He wanted me to argue back. He wanted me to get in his face where he could then push me away from him and I’d invariably push him back—and then he would have me. Then he could smack me around because I had pushed him.

But I didn’t follow the screaming stranger’s nefarious plan. Instead I apologized, admitted to my thoughtlessness, and genially sought to make reparations. As a result, the fellow had no place to go with his anger. All that was left for him to do was to forgive me and send me on my way with a stern warning—which he did.

I know this message may seem a bit bah-humbuggy and far from the kind of gift you might expect this time of year. But then again, some gifts you receive are more practical than your standard dangly earrings or pungent aftershave. Sometimes you get a new security system or hefty new locks on the door. I’ve given you something you can lock away in your head. You may not need it right now, but one day when you’re climbing out of your car listening to Burl Ives wish you a Holly Jolly Christmas and you’re distracted just enough to let your car door swing a quarter of an inch too far—well, you’ll now know what to say and do. And that, I hope, will lead to a happy and safe holiday.

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