ME DUMMY

 I sat there looking at the Japanese comic. I could not read a word. Not a single word. It was all squiggles and shapes. Some of them were cute, I guess. But I couldn’t make sense of it. Now, I’m not stupid. No. I’m just a man without the right set of tools. The tools for reading Japanese were missing from my mental toolbox. Simple as that.

Sure, I could’ve felt dumb about it. Many men do. The little squiggly marks could make you feel small, like the world’s laughing at you. But that’s nonsense. You don’t call a man stupid just because he doesn’t know how to chop wood with a spoon. It’s the spoon’s fault, not the man’s.

I sat there, staring at it like a man who couldn’t open a can of beans. But I wasn’t a fool. I was just unprepared. I could still think. I could still understand a whole lot of things. Maybe not this comic, but a lot of things. Things that mattered. Like beer. Or where the sun goes when it sets. That mattered. The comic? It didn’t matter. It was just a damn book.

I knew then it wasn’t about being dumb. It was about missing the right skills. That’s why they have “For Dummies” books. Not because you’re dumb, but because you just don’t have the right damn knowledge yet. You’ll get it. In time. Just don’t let the squiggly marks make you feel less than you are. You’re not stupid. You’re just learning.