I wrote last week about my son and me doing a podcast. Something fun. Something we enjoy. 

He’s the one who actually looks at the subscriber list, and we both get a kick out of it. A lot of people we don’t know. Total strangers. Meanwhile, some of the people closest to us don’t subscribe, don’t mention it, or pretend it doesn’t exist at all.

That used to bother me. More than I care to admit.

Now? Not so much.

Age has a way of dulling that nerve. Or maybe snapping it clean off.

Now, in the defense of people, we don’t have time. Me included. Some don’t like old movies. I understand all of those.

But it’s just kind of funny about those people who avoid the conversation, even when someone else in our presence says something about it. Those folks who are basically saying, “You are doing something I know nothing about or don’t want to acknowledge that you’re doing something different, so I can’t talk about it. At all.”

I think I came to terms with people like this a long time ago, probably because I sort of understand them. I think I struggle sometimes (a lot) asking people about themselves, so I shouldn’t ever let the same treatment bother me.

A lot of us grew up recognition-deprived. Not abused. Not mistreated. Just… not praised much. Compliments weren’t handed out freely. You did what you were supposed to do and moved on. Minimal communication. Tough it out. No parade.

Still, it was strange as I got older to bump into people who simply would not acknowledge anything you did. Ever. They just didn’t seem happy for you and you got to where you just wouldn’t talk about yourself much around them.

I had a friend like that. Still do, technically. I remember when a group of us buddies were touring a mutual friend’s new home. Everyone else was “oooing” and “ahhing.” This guy looked like he’d just bitten into a lemon. A pained expression. Almost a snarl. He offered a few veiled compliments, mostly criticism. It seemed physically impossible for him to be happy for someone else. 

It happened time and time again, over many years. That same friend was almost bent out of shape when a few of us got our degrees to become principals (which I never did anyway). I ended up thinking he was afraid someone would get ahead of him. Kinda sad.

Was it jealousy? Fear? Envy? Competitive nature?

And it still shows up today. If the topic isn’t about him, or something he understands, he just “uh-huhs” until it dies. Subject change achieved. If he ever showed genuine interest in someone else’s good fortune, I think I’d fall over.

This friend wants to hear all the news that’s fit to print and is interested in what’s going on in everyone’s lives. This friend is generous and usually around when times are tough. 

But as far as being happy for other friends, nope. Doesn’t happen.  

I felt a little validated when one of our mutual friends commented.  “Look, that dude is worried one of us is going to win. Little does he know none of us give a hoot.”

But he didn’t actually use the word “hoot.”

Before I retired – yes, I know, I bring this up a lot – I once tagged along with a group of female teachers to a book club seminar at one of those fascinating and highly important teacher institutes. The book was “Tripping the Prom Queen.” I was the token male. Mostly decoration.

But it turned out to be fascinating. The whole theme was how women, even close friends, sometimes struggle to celebrate each other’s success. I ended up offering the male perspective, which mostly involved nodding and saying, “Yeah, we do that too.”

Because we do.

Sure, my son and I have run into people – friends, family – who rolled their eyes at the podcast idea. Thought it was silly. Or just never mentioned it. Honestly, I’ve gotten the same reaction about a lot of things I’ve done over the years.

At some point, though, you just have to let it go.

If you ask my therapist wife (which I do often), she uses phrases like the title of this column. Recognition deprivation. She’ll say things like, “People who didn’t receive recognition growing up often feel uncomfortable giving it.” And then she gently reminds me that we’re not supposed to rely on others’ comments or praise to validate us anyway.

Fair enough.

The good news? My “give-a-hoot” switch is clearly malfunctioning. Possibly beyond repair. And I’m OK with that. I’ve wasted enough energy over the years worrying about people I don’t even enjoy being around.

Are you with me?

When you really stop and pick it apart, there are all kinds of reasons people hold back recognition, even when it’s clearly deserved. For some, praising others just feels awkward because nobody ever did it for them, so they don’t quite know how. For others, a simple compliment stirs up old, unresolved emotional junk they’d rather not deal with. Competitive types can hear praise for someone else as if it’s an admission of defeat, like handing over a trophy they still think they’re racing for. 

Those folks only feel good when they know they are a little ahead of the rest. 

Then there are folks who only feel taller by standing on someone else’s shoulders, or who believe success is just “what you’re supposed to do,” so why mention it at all. Some worry that a little praise might go to a person’s head, and others are so wrapped up in entitlement that gratitude feels optional. None of it looks very noble on paper, but it does explain a lot of silence.

And sometimes, it’s simpler than all that. It just doesn’t occur to them.

Am I saying that this little podcast is some huge deal or a big success. No.  But it’s something cool that I’m currently experiencing.  

What I’ve learned – slowly, stubbornly – is this: keep doing the things that bring you joy. Share them with people who care. Accept encouragement from strangers. Let silence be silence. And when recognition comes, take it lightly. When it doesn’t, shrug and move on.

Life’s too short to wait for applause from people who never learned how to clap.