In case you happen to be unfamiliar with this phrase, in journalism, it means to present a story with the least important information first; followed by the most important info buried somewhere in the story. An example would be: "It is a bright, sunny day, here in NYC, with little chance of rain. The World Series will go on as scheduled. Alien Killer Cats are taking over the planet! Don't forget to bring your foam fingers if you're attending the game."
Burying the lede.
Believe it or not, it is from an old Norse word, "leden" which means disgusting. So, in essence, one is burying the gross and disgusting and easing it in.
It only took six decades for me to realize this is the way the world works. It's why you have to read the fine print! It is certainly the way my children imparted information to me. And I am discovering animals have learned this technique as well.
Me (20 years ago - answering my phone at work.): Hello?
Son (16 year old version): Mom? Hello. Hey there. Is Dad with you?
Me: Dad? No, he's at his job and I am at mine. What's up?
Son: Nothin - school was fine - have band practice. Look I really need to talk to Dad. Do you have his number?
Me: Of course I have his number, but could you tell me what's going on?
Son: Oh, well, no big deal. My truck won't start and I need the number for AAA. I'm stuck on I-Drive with the guys.
Me: So, did you run out of gas? What do you mean your truck won't start?
Son: Yea. Look. I gotta go. I accidentally ran into the back of a tourist who stopped too fast and the front of my truck fell off on I-Drive.
Me (long pause): Call your Dad; here's the number.....
Burying the Lede.
After years of thinking my family was just trying to cushion the blow so I wouldn't have a heart attack or stroke, it finally dawned on me - they were just stalling. They were giving me as little info as possible to get their problem fixed without having to suffer the consequences of me learning the gory details.
Well, lo and behold, the animals in residence have taken up the mantle. For example: They are notorious for making a ruckus to distract me from the real problem. Let's say somebody has had an accident in the dining room. They will direct me away from there and to some random thing outside or in another part of the house. Chance is the master at burying the lede. He will get all cute and snuggly and then distract me away from where he just peed on the floor. They all do it, though.
Me: What's up? You guys look guilty.
All: Us? No? Everything's fine. You ok, Finn? Chance? Yep, we're all fine. We would like to go outside, though. It's such a beautiful day. How about it? (There's a huge vomit in the dining room from when we were chasing each other after we ate. And Chance peed on the floor again. And Dash knocked over something and it broke.) But, hey, no big deal. Open the door please.
Burying the Lede.
Consequently, I trust no one or thing. I have learned there is a lede buried and I will not stop until I find it. Which is why, when somebody calls me, I know they don't just want to chat. Who does that anymore? I wait for the reason. It always surfaces. I wish people would just lead with the lede.
And, I wish my animals would take me to the site of the calamity. Like Lassie leading help to the well where Timmy just fell in, instead of making me go on the worst Treasure Hunt ever.
Heavy sigh...
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