You can't please everyone

“You can’t please everyone” – it’s a well-known and oft-repeated saying, probably because of its absolute truth. I imagine every human being, no matter who they are, where they live, or what they do has direct experience with the reality of “you can’t please everyone.” You really can’t.

 Any field that requires working with “the public” promises lots of experiences with the “You Can’t Please Everyone” – let’s call it YCPE for short – phenomenon. I just wrapped up another season of performing arts events – the 15^th since I founded the series – and if being a performing arts presenter has taught me anything, it’s the truth of YCPE. Even though a decade and a half seems like it should be plenty of time to accept a life-lesson, I still have trouble making peace with YCPE.

I’m a pleaser. I like getting the figurative gold star, the pat on the head, the “Way to go,” the “Atta girl,” the “Thank you, I really appreciate that.” I take my job seriously, and I very much want what I do to be meaningful and to make people happy. I appreciate feedback when it is constructive, but the vast majority of the time it isn’t. Even though I know the wisdom of YCPE, I still take each catty complaint and nasty nitpick personally. I’ve heard many crazy complaints over the years; these are some of the best (and by that I mean the worst):

Bad Jeans

Occasionally I get negative comments about the wardrobe choices my staff and I make on show days. This “fashion feedback” is one of the most annoying examples of work-based YCPE. (If I lodged a formal complaint every time I saw someone wearing something I didn’t think looked particularly good or flattering or appropriate, I wouldn’t have time to feed myself.)

Typically, these complaints focus on how “tacky,” “unprofessional,” and “offensive” it is that my assistant and I wear jeans to our shows. Do we sometimes wear jeans? Yes, we do. Are they dirty, faded, ripped, frayed, or even bedazzled? No, they are not. The jeans we wear are always nice, dark-rinse, tailored styles (which, I might add, are probably twice as expensive as the ill-fitting polyester pants the complainers are likely wearing) and paired with nice blouses and professional blazers. It isn’t like we’re throwing on a pair of ripped up Carhartts with a stained work-shirt or Cabo-Wabo tank top.

The other thing I hate about these complaints is that they are always anonymous. If you are upset enough to complain about something – you better be willing to own it. I hate anonymous complaints because they don’t give you an opportunity to respond and let the complainer know the perfectly logical reasons behind what they are complaining about. But a nice, reasonable explanation isn’t what they’re looking for is it? If they understood something, they wouldn’t be able to complain about it anymore. Since I never have the chance to explain why we often wear dressed-up jeans to the people who complain about it, here is what I would tell them: “You may not see us until we’re sitting down at the box office to issue your tickets or until I step onstage to introduce the performers, but we’ve been working for many hours prior to that – loading in equipment, setting up and taking down catering, running performers back and forth, to and from airports, and venues, and hotels. We don’t have the time or a place to do costume changes between each duty. It isn’t practical for us to get gussied up. And honestly, is it really hurting or offending you that I’m wearing nice jeans and a blazer?” Oh, the horror.

I say “subversive,” they read “heart-warming”

I find it truly stunning how often people either do not read the description of a show they are buying tickets for, or are somehow able to read it and completely disregard everything it says. Several years ago, I received a handful of complaints after presenting “Santaland Diaries” – a theatrical adaptation of writer David Sedaris’ holiday stories. People described it as “heartless and sarcastic.” Someone deemed it “gross” and “not appropriate for the holidays.” Clearly these folks were not familiar with the work of Mr. Sedaris, which is nothing if not sarcastic and dark, and never mind that I consistently described the show as “subversive, anti-holiday, and for mature audiences.”

Dear God, It’s me, Ronda

Please, God, help people to stop being so uptight. Each year we present an installment in the Late Nite Catechism series of shows. They are interactive, comedic theater pieces, intended to be entertainment – NOT religious events. These shows are among our most popular – typically selling out. While the shows are set in a parochial school “classroom,” performed by a “Sister” (who is really an actress in nun’s clothing), and respectfully poke fun at some elements of Catholic faith and education, they do not promote or even seriously cover any religion or religious teachings. Nevertheless, I can count on complaints every time – always from people who didn’t bother to attend the show. These complainers simply see the description in our season brochure, or on our website or, who knows maybe God sends them a vision of it, and are incensed. And this is an especially good example of YCPE because some of them are angry because, by presenting the show, I am obviously making fun of God, the Catholic Church, and everything that is good and holy. The other camp of complainers is ready to sick the ACLU on me for using public money to “promote” the Catholic faith. I really can’t win for losing with this one. Fortunately, normal, non-complaining people of all ages and spiritual persuasions attend these shows each year and always request return engagements. Thank you, God, for creating some people who aren’t hard-wired to complain. Please make more.

While there have always been complainers – those people who will, no matter what you do, come up with a reason to bitch about it – I am convinced the complaints are becoming more frequent, more outlandish, and, most disturbing of all, more angry. I had more people than ever complain about music volume this year. In fact, I seriously thought one man was going to resort to physical violence he was so upset about it. His face was red and about two inches from mine as he yelled at me that I was single-handedly causing hearing loss for every one of the audience members. (I believe he missed the irony of complaining that something was too loud by yelling.) I calmly explained that the artists tend to be particular about setting their own sound levels, but it was no use, I was personally causing the instantaneous deafness of hundreds of people. Had the angry, yelling man stayed past the first two songs, he would have noticed a decrease in volume. It was an R&B vocalist; of course she’s going to come out raising the rafters.

At a concert of Zydeco dance music, a woman sternly lectured me about the volume: “It’s louder than an average hairdryer in there and everyone knows hairdryers permanently damage your hearing!” I certainly value my hearing and don’t want to purposely damage it. I have a dad who is, due to a lifetime of loud work and accidents, nearly deaf, so I know how bad hearing loss can be, but for goodness sake, when did the people at my shows become so overly obsessed with hearing damage? I really want to follow these same people over to the concession stand and smugly inform them the cookies and chips they are so eagerly ingesting will cause heart disease and kill them. “Everybody knows Pringles kill you,” I want to say.

I’ve had people storm into the lobby, greatly upset that the lights are reflecting off the guitars into their eyes. They seem convinced that there is a plot against them. People routinely request refunds because they got lost and couldn’t find the venue, even though directions are clearly posted on our web site and included on our phone recording. And you wouldn’t believe how often I get chewed out because some woman drug her husband to a show, he didn’t like it, and now it’s my fault she’ll never get him out of the house to do anything fun in the future.

Whenever these instances occur, I take deep breaths and silently tell myself over and over again, “you can’t please everyone, you can’t please everyone, you can’t please everyone.” I remind myself to look around at all the happy, smiling audience members who are on their feet in standing ovations; the ones who thank and congratulate me on their way out. The fact is they outnumber the negative people. But I think the negativity and self-absorption has gotten worse and more frequent over the years. And it is particularly stunning to me that the negative people don’t seem to notice how happy everyone else is. 

I believe we have a terrifyingly pervasive trend of self-centeredness going on in our society. “If I don’t like it, it doesn’t matter if a zillion other people do, I get to bitch and complain and stamp my feet and throw a little tantrum because it’s obviously all about me.” Another one that drives me nuts is: “If I didn’t like it, I shouldn’t have to pay for it.” Really? There are plenty of horrible, miserable airline flights I’ve taken and I’ve never gotten a refund because I didn’t enjoy myself. Who are these people? I quite frequently find myself in situations where I’m less than thrilled with a product or service or event – especially when it is something new I’m trying. If I don’t like it, I typically shrug my shoulders, decide it isn’t my “cup of tea,” congratulate myself on being adventurous and open to new experiences, and move along. I don’t storm into the office of the event producer and demand a refund, I don’t call a company and whine and complain about how much I disliked their product. I don’t freak out when a portion of my tax dollars are directed to a service I don’t personally use. I live in a big society and I expect that it isn’t all about me. Don’t get me wrong, I certainly have “Ronda as Fascist Ruler” fantasies about how fantastic the world would be if I was calling every single shot (it would be), but I recognize those for what they are – FANTASIES. Do you know how unbelievably unjust or ridiculously awful something would have to be for me to lodge a complaint or write a letter? I’ve written one complaint letter in my life if that tells you something. It isn’t that I’m super easy-going and love everything either. It’s just that I have a grasp on the very real fact that there are a lot of other people in this world and they have wants and needs that are different from mine. Why is that getting harder and harder for people to understand?

After being hurt, and then angry, my emotional-response-to-negative-person cycle usually ends with feeling a little sorry for them. I want to ask, “Do you really expect to be perfectly, completely happy with every single experience and situation you find yourself in?” And, “If you do, how disappointed must you be all the time?” If someone practically has an anger-management meltdown over a performance being too loud, what do they do when something happens that really is worth getting angry about? I fear we are seeing the answer to that question in examples of bullying, senseless shootings, vicious name-calling, and violently polarized politics.

There is probably no clearer example of the YCPE phenomenon than in our current political realm. I was browsing on Facebook the other day and stumbled upon a group called Smart Girl Politics. (After reading a few posts and the ensuing comments, I came to the conclusion that “smart” could only be used to describe these gals if we were living in “opposite world”, but that’s an aside.) Their Facebook page was a perfect reminder of the YCPE principal. One person commented that she would not be able to agree with Debbie Wasserman Schultz, U.S. Representative for Florida’s 20^th congressional district and Chair of the Democratic National Committee, if she said the sky was blue. Not being a member or fan of “Smart Girl Politics”, I kept my mouth shut, but what I wanted to say was, “Really? You’re THAT polarized and close-minded and full of being angry at everything that isn’t exactly as you think it should be, you’re willing to cast aside logic, scientific fact, intellect, reason, and any shred of open-mindedness, not to mention kindness?” These are the “complainers” that make YCPE a reality, and there is no pleasing them. Ever. God help you if you try.

You can’t please everyone, it’s true, and it’s important to keep in mind. It’s important to realize something else too – You can’t expect to be pleased by everything and everyone all the time. This is my message to the complainers of the world: It is not your unalienable birthright to be 100% satisfied and content, 100% of the time. Accept it.