Every so often, my father will tell this story from high school: He broke his arm pole-vaulting without a mat. After he had the cast removed, he decided to pole-vault again?without a mat. He broke his other arm.
Each time I hear this story, I ask myself several questions: Why did he want to pole-vault? Why did he do it without a mat? Wasn’t there anyone else around who thought pole-vaulting without a mat was unsafe? Why does Dad tell this story when it makes him look dumb?
The question that I find most perplexing is this: Why do people repeat actions that have failed in the past? Almost everyone does it. We should know better. But we don’t.
I have heard that a definition of insanity is repeating the exact same actions expecting different results. Another way to put it is in the words of “The Continental,” as portrayed by Christopher Walken on various episodes of Saturday Night Live. “Throw champagne (he pronounces it sham-pan-ya) in my face once, shame on you. Throw champagne in my face twice, shame on me.”
Even with the wise words of The Continental, I find myself repeating the same failed actions. For example, I know that if I turn on The Real World, I will see a bunch of kids whining about having to do some simple task like make T-shirts or work part-time as a lifeguard. There will be a lot of pointless bickering because someone won’t vacuum. But the preview commercials look so good! These are real people my age dealing with real problems, while being incredibly good looking. When Tuesday night roles around, I inevitably turn to MTV expecting some heart-wrenching yet uplifting drama that I can apply to my 21-year-old existence. What do I get? An episode about one of the blond girls making out with three people in one week. Am I disappointed? Yes. Will I tune in next week? Of course. Because you never know when someone like Amaya from the Hawaii cast will stalk her roommate.
One of the main reasons that I continue to repeat actions that have empirically failed is because I want the imagined result so badly. For example, every time I go to a library book sale or a bookstore and see a classic on sale for a cheap price, I buy it. I don’t think I have ever finished one of these books, but I keep buying them. I want to be the kind of person that reads Women in Love for fun. I want to talk about how much I enjoyed The Sound and the Fury, having just finished a little casual reading. Why don’t I finish these books if I want to be the kind of person caught up with only intellectual thoughts? Because, in reality, I’m the type of person who would rather be watching The Real World.
Last night I had a conversation over Instant Messenger with an ex-boyfriend who is working overseas. I asked his advice on the re-wooing of another ex-boyfriend. He answered, “I remember learning a proverb as a child: A man committing the same sin twice is like a dog returning to its own vomit. I remember that proverb because in my picture Bible it had a picture of a dog by a pile of vomit.” After telling me how beautiful Sarajevo was this time of year and that I should visit, he asked a very relevant question: “Why don’t you just find someone new?”
I think the problem is that finding someone new seems just as likely to fail. Every time a relationship ends with someone I care about, I feel as though someone threw a handful of sand spurs at my heart; they form a hard, spiny coating until I sit like an idiot slowly trying to pick them off. I throw them back in the grass, and passers-by will get them stuck to their shoelaces. Still, I continue to approach the crossbar with pole in hand. It’s the stupidly persistent hope that I will finally land the jump that keeps me pole-vaulting.
Maybe that’s why Dad keeps telling the story?maybe there are some things that we can’t give up on, no matter how many times we fail at them. The goal may just be too important. Eventually, it will be worth all of those falls. Yes, I’m sure that’s the lesson. Either that or, if pole-vaulting, invest in a mat.
Gina Pace is a junior in the School of Foreign Service and an associate editor of The Georgetown Voice. If she had to choose between the tacos and the mail, she’d have to go with the mail.
