What Kind of Person Are You?

take-our-quizBe a thinker.

By J’Mel Davidson


What type of Bleu cheese are you? Which Shirt Tales character are you? Which one of your relatives helped to save Hitler’s brain?

If you’ve been on the social media over the last few months you have seen or, God have mercy on you, participated in one of these idiotic time-waster quizzes.

“But, J’Mel, your articles are idiotic time wasters, as well!” Perhaps, but my articles aren’t phishing scams. I’m not asking you to enter an email and a password in exchange for my useless information.

And you know what you do? You give them a password that you’ve surely used before! Because you are a sucker. A bored, time-wasting sucker. You want you know what Star Wars character you are?

Darth Sucker. Boom.

The other day, I saw a quiz called, “How Southern Are You?” posted in my newsfeed, and from the responses it received, it seemed the level of southernness was scored by Coke and sweet tea intake, broken English, and “elder respect.” Respecting your elders, as many “true” Southerners posted, is as southern as peach cobbler, Buffalo Rock, and eating red dirt.

Please allow me, as I often do, to lean against this theory a bit and see if it shifts.

First off, what exactly makes a person an elder? My best friend, Sam, is five years older than me, and I respect him, but I’m not calling him sir or following his commands. He’s a comic-collecting band geek! I love the guy, but is everything he says the law because he popped out a few years earlier than me?

I’m sure that when the “respect your elders” idea was instated, it was a time when the elders were tribe leaders, wise men, people full of experience and knowledge. But some people take everything too literally, so now “old” is supposed to equal “respect.”

This makes no sense if you really take time to think about it. I know thinking is hard and leads to hard truths, but someone has to do it: The ability to avoid death a little longer than you’re supposed to is admirable, but not rare and no reason to be placed on a superficial pedestal. Your respect should be earned, whether you’re 17 or 77.  There are lots of old idiots. Respect them at your peril.

To lots of people, I’m an elder. I’m sure some of them respect me. Not because of my four decades on this wicked earth, but because I’m a flawed, funny, emotional mess just like everyone else. But I’ve done something that made them take notice. Was it my silly ramblings here in B-Metro? Was it my sexy, sexy voice and calves? Who knows? But it was earned.

So, I may never have an official Internet answer to which Mon Chi-Chi I most resemble or what flavor of Slush-puppie I am. But I’m OK with that.

Respect me for not caring.

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