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Why do you ask?

I suspect that most of us would hesitate to enter a maze sporting a Minotaur at its end. Perhaps mindful of the medieval cartographers who indicated unexplored or unknown areas of a map with dragons, we also hesitate to wander into ‘why-fields’: areas of endeavour in which, after the questions of the ‘hows’ and ‘wheres’ have been satisfactorily answered, the more existential ‘whys’ begin to surface.

Why-questions have always existed of course, and yet unlike the more mechanical ‘hows’ or referential ‘wheres’ and ‘whens’, they are usually more difficult to answer; more difficult to prove. Whys sometimes involve a never-ending descent into the maelstrom of swirling ‘becauses’ -descents that beg for first causes for their genesis. Either that or risk an infinite regress. I’m reminded of the apocryphal story of the woman at a scientific meeting who said she was convinced that the world was supported in space by sitting on the back of a turtle. When questioned as to what the turtle was standing on, she smiled and explained that it was ‘turtles all the way down’.

Those of us who are parents I’m sure can remember the ‘why’ questions from their young charges. No answer would end the relentless questioning until finally, desperate, we answer with ‘just because’, and if that doesn’t work, the period at the end of our sentence holds a ‘because I said so’! Whys have an unfortunate habit of ending like that because any answer given ultimately depends on the platform that underlies it -which can in turn be questioned. Only in religion is there a ‘First Cause’ and a claim that adherents seem to accept: God. In their minds, at least, to ask ‘why’ after that is to question their belief.

But, can we learn anything from a string of whys -especially once the initial reason for asking is buried in the subsequent answers? Sometimes, if we can step out of the spiral, we can discover something about ourselves that we have never bothered to probe before, never realized its significance. Sometimes it’s even the inadvertent product of defending a viewpoint too strongly under questioning.

Of course, it’s difficult to avoid asking ‘why’ if an answer is incomplete, or unlikely. You just have to be careful how you do it…

During the recent Covid thing, Jonathan was sitting by himself staring at the socially distanced seats in the Food Court. The guys usually met on Wednesday mornings, but for some reason, nobody had showed up yet that day. I sighed inwardly (if that’s even possible) -he was a bit of a milquetoast. And knowing Jonathan, I was sure he was taking their absence personally, because he had a sour expression pasted over his wrinkles. In the group we’re all retired and forgetful, and most of us joke about it. Not Jonathan however. He lived alone, and Time had not been kind to him. Not only was he balding and his face weathered and sagging, but his taste in clothes had not changed in years. If it wasn’t torn he wore it, no matter the clash of colours; he had no one to stop him at the door of his condo and point out that he’d buttoned his shirt incorrectly, or that his fly was still undone -those things had to wait until one of us pointed them out when he arrived for coffee with us.

Jonathan was so thrilled that he actually had an opportunity to talk to people in person, that his clothes were the last things on his mind Wednesday mornings. Unlike the rest of us, he sometimes arrived early on Wednesdays to make sure we had a table. The only reason he would ever miss a session would have been one of his many doctor’s appointments but he was careful to schedule them on other days whenever he could.

“Hey, G,” he said, waving when he saw me approaching. “I thought maybe I’d got the days mixed up…”

“Again?” I teased, in the vain hope that it might help him weather his personal storms. But sometimes he took it as a criticism -it was a throw of the dice.

The sour look reappeared on his face. “Why do you always do that, G?” he asked, shaking his head in annoyance.

“Do what?” I asked, pretending ignorance.

“Why do you always bring up my forgetfulness? You know I’m worried about that…”

I smiled, unwilling to pick up the gauntlet he had just dropped in front of me, although I wondered if declining memory was the reason for some of his doctor appointments. “Sorry, Jon. I was just teasing.”

“But why? You never tease anybody else as much…” He glanced anxiously at the counter and then around the room wondering if any of the group had actually arrived and was sitting somewhere else.

I suspected something was bothering him. Maybe someone had already pointed out the ink stain on his shirt pocket. “Come on, Jonathan. Your memory is just fine. I mean, you always remember that I tease you about it, don’t you?”

He blinked impatiently at me and shook his head again. “That’s not an answer, G; it’s an evasion.”

I had a quick look around the room as well; I could sense this was going to be a long morning if nobody else arrived, so I shrugged and decided to answer. “I suppose it’s because nobody else reacts if I tease them… it’d be a wasted tease on anybody else,” I added, hoping he’d think I was trying to be funny.

He sent his eyes to patrol my face for a moment. “But you know it bothers me, so why do you persist in doing it?” He summoned his eyes back and had a sip of his coffee.

I shrugged and reached for my own coffee -it was something to do while I waited for the group. I checked the lineup at the counter again but none of the guys were in it. I sighed quietly but he noticed.

“Why do you have trouble talking with me, G?”

He was persistent this morning and I didn’t think I could get away with another shrug. But his question made me think. Was I being unfair? A bully? He was obviously in need of social interactions -we all were- but the Covid restrictions seemed to be wreaking extra havoc on him.

“I mean is it me? Or…” I could tell he was running through a quick checklist in his head. “…Or the clothes I wear? Maybe that I’m so obtuse at times -so serious?”

I shook my head, but I realized he was covering the items that I seemed to find…well, unusual about him.

“Alex dresses outrageously at times,” he continued. “I mean those bowties that he insists on wearing…” He thought about it some more. “And then there’s Robert who always tries to monopolize the conversation -and keeps interrupting if he can’t…”

Actually, Jonathan was right.

“So… why, G? Why me?”

I was beginning to enjoy Jonathan’s persistence, if you want to know. He was finally deciding to defend himself. I wondered whether I’d actually being mocking him because he allowed it. Expected it, even. The other guys would tease back; it was a game with them, not a taunt.

“Why not just tease me back, Jon?” I said with a hopeful smile in my eyes.

His face suddenly relaxed and a wry smile appeared on his lips. “Because I respect you, G. And besides you’re such a pompous ass you’d probably think I was serious,” he managed to say before he broke out in a laugh.

Sometimes it’s good to listen to the becauses…

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