Commentary - A day at the whinery

Of all human expressions, whining is one of the most irritating. The word get’s defined variously, but “to snivel or complain in a peevish, self-pitying way” is to whine. Whining usually gets delivered in a high-pitched, nasal voice with loooong draaaaaawn out syllables with a spine-chill rating close to fingernails on a blackboard.

Got the picture?

Complaining is an older brother to whining, a bit more mature perhaps, but just about as nauseating. Lamenting is an even older brother, but with a degree.

I’m fully aware that complaining about the prevalence of whining puts me on the edge of being guilty of both, but I’ve got to “vent.”

We learn to whine rather early in our years. Remember Shakespeare’s “whining schoolboy, with his satchel and shining morning face, creeping like a snail unwillingly to school?”

It seems to me that an inordinate amount of a day’s communication amounts to a day at the whinery. And it’s depressing.

It wouldn’t be so bad if every tooth-grinding whine was in the company of some happy suggestion or solution.

I had a boss once who said rather emphatically, “If you come to my office to complain about a problem without at least one possible solution to the problem, I’m going to pretend that you’re not standing there.”

I remember showing up once without the requisite solution. Our interchange was rather short, as I recall.

“The tendency to whining and complaining may be taken as the surest sign or symptom of little souls and inferior intellects.” That was one on the chin by Lord Jeffrey, whoever he was.

As Christians, active in our world for good, we must advocate for peace and justice; but if we do it by whining and complaining, by reiterating the problem over and over, without offering well-thought solutions, we’ll get waaaaaaaaay behind.

Glad we could get together.