Critics: The Loudest People Usually Aren’t the Ones Building Anything

Before we go any further, let me make one thing clear.

I’m not talking about the friend who tells you your idea has a flaw because they genuinely want to see you succeed. I’m not talking about the customer who offers honest feedback that helps a business improve. Those people are valuable.

I’m talking about a different breed entirely.

The critic who isn’t trying to help, they’re trying to hurt.

The one who waits in the shadows for someone to post, create, celebrate, or dream, just so they can swoop in with sarcasm, insults, or negativity. They don’t offer solutions. They don’t build anything themselves. They simply tear down what someone else had the courage to create.

Those are the critics this blog is about.

There comes a point in everyone’s life when you realize something important.

No matter what you do… Someone is going to criticize it.

Start a business? They’ll tell you why it’ll fail. The same people today who love my restaurant, told me 12 years ago it will never work in my location.

Lose weight? They’ll explain why you’re doing it wrong.

Write a blog? They’ll critique your grammar instead of your message.

Post a picture? They’ll tell you what they would’ve done differently.

Welcome to life.

Critics are everywhere. They’re critical of what you’re doing, what you’re saying, how you’re living, and sometimes even what you’re eating for lunch. If someone is actually out there chasing a goal, there’s always someone standing on the sidelines explaining how they should be running the race.

Here’s my opinion… Most of the loudest critics aren’t busy creating anything themselves.

It’s a lot easier to judge someone who’s climbing a mountain than it is to climb one yourself.

Today, the modern critic has evolved.

Years ago, if someone wanted to criticize you, they had to actually say it to your face. Today? They hide behind a keyboard, a blank profile picture, and a comment section. You’ll recognize them pretty quickly. Their profile has three pictures, twenty-seven cat memes, a political rant from six years ago, and somehow they have an expert opinion on absolutely everything.

These keyboard warriors aren’t nearly as intimidating as they think they are.

They’re fueled by one thing… Attention.

Reply to them, and you’ve just handed them exactly what they wanted.

Argue with them, and you’ve given them a purpose for the afternoon.

Defend yourself long enough, and suddenly you’re spending your day trying to convince a stranger that your life choices are valid.

That’s a losing game every single time.

Now, every once in a while, you’ll meet a real, flesh-and-blood critic. Someone who actually has a face, a name, and enough confidence to say something in person.

Those conversations can actually be worthwhile.

Listen. Ask questions. Debate respectfully. Sometimes you’ll even learn something.

Not all criticism is bad. Honest feedback can make us better.

But there’s a huge difference between someone offering constructive advice and someone simply looking for an argument.

If you’re running a business, especially in a small town, you already know this.

Social media is one of the greatest marketing tools ever created.

It’s also one of the greatest gathering places for critics.

For every customer cheering you on, there’s another person convinced they know how to run your business better than you do.

They’re critical of your menu. Your prices. Your promotions. Your employees. Your politics. Your grammar. Your logo. (Not my logo, my logo is badass!)

Sometimes it feels like they’re disappointed you opened your doors at all.

Here’s the funny part… Most of those people have never signed a payroll, balanced inventory, worked a fourteen-hour day, or laid awake at night wondering how to make sure their employees get paid.

It’s easy to coach from the bleachers. It’s much harder to play the game.

One of the greatest responses you can give a professional critic is… absolutely nothing.

Silence.

Nothing frustrates someone looking for attention more than not receiving it.

An ignored critic eventually has to find another stage.

So live your life. Start the business. Write the blog. Post the picture. Take the trip. Learn the skill. Make the mistake. Celebrate the win.

Every decision you make belongs to you, not to the anonymous spectator refreshing Facebook while waiting for their next argument.

At the end of the day, you have to live with your choices. They don’t.

So don’t let critics determine how you speak, what you post, or how you chase your goals.

The people busy building a life rarely have time to spend tearing someone else’s apart.

And if you happen to hear some noise coming from the comment section…

Smile.

It usually means you’re doing something worth noticing.

Ted Kaczynski

What villain actually had a good point?

When a Villain Identifies a Real Problem

Today’s prompt asked: What villain actually had a good point?

This may just be the prompt I’ve been waiting for.

Ted Kaczynski.

Before anyone misunderstands where I’m going with this, let me be clear. He chose terrorism. He murdered innocent people. Whatever message he believed he was sending was forever stained by the blood of those who never deserved to become part of it. His methods weren’t just wrong… they were evil.

That should never be forgotten.

But here’s where the conversation gets uncomfortable.

What if an evil man recognized a real problem that the rest of society wouldn’t fully understand until decades later?

Long before smartphones lived in our pockets, before social media dictated our attention, before algorithms decided what we read, watched, and believed, Kaczynski warned that technology would slowly become something we could no longer live without. He argued that we’d willingly trade privacy for convenience, independence for comfort, and genuine human connection for digital substitutes.

Whether he was entirely right is up for debate. But I’ll let you all be the judge of that.

What’s harder to debate is what we see today.

People panic when they lose their phones. Families sit at the same dinner table while staring at separate screens. Social media often influences our moods, our opinions, and sometimes even our sense of self-worth. Artificial intelligence is beginning to reshape careers, education, and creativity faster than many of us can adapt. Every year, we seem more connected digitally and, in many ways, more disconnected personally.

Technology has given us incredible advances. It has saved lives, connected families across continents, revolutionized medicine, and placed the world’s knowledge in our hands. I wouldn’t want to erase any of that.

But somewhere along the way, many of us stopped using technology as a tool and started allowing it to use us.

That’s the difference.

And maybe that’s the lesson we’ve overlooked.

Technology itself isn’t evil. A hammer can build a home or become a weapon. The internet can educate millions or spread lies in seconds. AI can help doctors detect diseases earlier or help scammers deceive thousands. The tool isn’t making the moral decision.

We are.

Every technology eventually reflects the best and worst of the people using it.

Take Flock license plate cameras as an example. Used properly, they can help investigators locate a stolen vehicle, identify suspects, or even find a kidnapped child. Used improperly, they can become a substitute for actual police work.

Consider the case of Chrisanna Elser. Her vehicle was detected by a license plate reader in the vicinity of a reported crime. Instead of treating that information as one investigative lead among many, it became the foundation for accusing the wrong person. She maintained her innocence and ultimately had to gather her own GPS data and other records to demonstrate she wasn’t responsible before the case against her unraveled.

https://www.cbsnews.com/amp/colorado/news/flock-cameras-lead-colorado-police-wrong-suspect/

The technology didn’t fail.

The people using it did.

That’s what makes this conversation so relevant today. We have a tendency to place blind faith in technology because it feels objective. Computers don’t have emotions. Algorithms don’t get tired. Cameras don’t forget.

But technology records information. Human beings assign meaning to it.

The moment we stop questioning the output and start treating it as unquestionable truth, we’ve crossed a dangerous line. Investigative technology should generate leads, not conclusions. It should support human judgment, not replace it.

That’s why I don’t think technology itself is humanity’s downfall.

Human beings have always been remarkably good at taking useful tools and finding ways to misuse them. Technology doesn’t create our character.

It magnifies it.

If we’re compassionate, technology amplifies compassion.

If we’re innovative, it amplifies innovation.

If we’re reckless, it amplifies recklessness.

If we’re authoritarian, it amplifies surveillance.

The lesson isn’t that Ted Kaczynski was someone to admire. He wasn’t.

The lesson is that even terrible people can occasionally identify a real danger. Recognizing that danger doesn’t honor the man, it challenges us to confront the issue in ways that are thoughtful, humane, and constructive rather than destructive.

Maybe the real question isn’t whether technology is evil.

Maybe it’s whether we’ve become so dependent on it that we’ve forgotten how to control it… and whether we’ve become so willing to trust it that we’ve stopped questioning the people who wield it.

https://web.cs.ucdavis.edu/~rogaway/classes/188/materials/Industrial%20Society%20and%20Its%20Future.pdf

Who Are We Supposed to Believe?

Turn on the news. Open social media. Spend thirty seconds scrolling.

You’ll find dozens of opinions, hundreds of accusations, and thousands of people claiming they know exactly what’s happening.

The problem? Half of them can’t possibly be right. The bigger problem? Most of us no longer know who to believe.

Take the current conflict with Iran. One day we’re told the situation is under control. The next day reports suggest additional strikes, retaliation, and escalating tensions. One source says a shipping route is open. Another says it’s effectively closed. Political leaders make statements that seem to contradict reports coming from their own administration.

Who’s right? More importantly, who is responsible for making sure the public gets the truth?

It shouldn’t be this difficult. The same questions exist much closer to home.

Look at the Market Street Bridge connecting West Virginia and Ohio.

For months we’ve heard every possible version of the story. There won’t be a replacement bridge. Funding has been secured. Plans are moving forward. Construction is going to happen.

Yet from where most citizens stand, little appears to be happening.

Maybe there are legitimate reasons for the delays. Maybe funding is still being finalized. Maybe there are engineering or environmental hurdles the public doesn’t see.

But when communication is inconsistent, people naturally begin asking questions. And they should.

The role of government isn’t simply to govern. The role of government is to maintain public confidence through transparency, accountability, and honesty.

The role of the media isn’t to win arguments. It’s to inform.

Somewhere along the way, both seem to have forgotten that.

Today, every issue becomes a political battle. Every story becomes a contest between competing narratives. Every statement is immediately challenged by someone claiming the exact opposite.

Instead of seeking facts, we seek confirmation. Instead of reporting news, many outlets report opinions.

Instead of answering questions, officials often release carefully crafted statements designed to avoid them.

The result is a public that trusts almost nobody. That should concern everyone.

Whether you’re Republican, Democrat, Independent, or completely fed up with all of them, trust is the foundation of every successful society.

Without trust, every announcement is questioned. Every project is doubted. Every decision is viewed through a lens of suspicion.

When citizens stop believing their leaders and stop believing the people reporting on those leaders, something important has been lost.

The question isn’t whether politicians stretch the truth. The question isn’t whether media organizations have biases.

Most people already know those things.

The question is whether there are still enough people in positions of influence willing to ask hard questions, demand real answers, and tell the public the truth even when it’s inconvenient.

Because right now, it feels like everyone is busy arguing with each other while ordinary people are simply trying to figure out what’s real.

And honestly? That may be the most troubling story of all.

What Makes a Great Employee?

Since I was about fifteen years old, I’ve been an employee somewhere. Every job taught me something, but the biggest lesson wasn’t how to flip burgers, stock shelves, or answer calls.

It was how to work.

More importantly, it was how to be a teammate.

I was taught two simple rules early on:

Never let your boss catch you standing around.
Never let your boss do your work.

Those two lessons have stayed with me for decades.

To me, a great employee isn’t the loudest person in the room or the one constantly reminding everyone how hard they work. A great employee shows up on time. They don’t spend their shift complaining. They’re confident in their abilities but humble enough to keep learning. They finish the job correctly the first time because doing it right matters.

And when the shift is over?

They don’t sprint for the door while someone else is drowning.

They stay. They help.

Because they understand something that too many people have forgotten: when one teammate struggles, the whole team struggles.

The best employees don’t need to be told what to do next. They always find something productive. They take pride in their work, no matter how small the task. They don’t participate in workplace gossip, and they certainly don’t become the source of the drama.

Work isn’t high school. It’s a team sport.

For years, I was the employee. Today, I’m the boss. Ironically, I still think I was a better employee than I am a boss.

When I watch everyone clock out and one employee is left buried with dishes, cleaning, or closing duties, I don’t stand back and supervise.

I grab a towel. I pick up a mop. I jump in.

Because that’s what teammates do.

Titles don’t make people leaders. Actions do.

Someday, every employee gets a reputation. Some become the person management worries about every time they’re scheduled. Others become the person everyone hopes is working because they know the job will get done.

Which one are you becoming?

The wake-up call may never come for some people. But if it does, don’t waste it. Be the employee your coworkers are thankful to work beside.

Be the employee your manager can count on without a second thought.

Be the kind of worker a company is proud to have. Because people may forget what job you had…

But they’ll never forget what kind of teammate you were.

The White House Is Not a Theme Park

There was a time when the White House represented something.

It wasn’t about Republicans or Democrats. It wasn’t about who won the last election or who was running in the next one. It represented the highest office in the country and, whether you agreed with the person occupying it or not, there was a certain level of dignity attached to it.

Today? We’re talking about UFC fights on the White House lawn.

Dirt bikes doing jumps and tricks on the property. Professional fighters being showcased as part of White House events. Government officials discussing UFC training partnerships as if they just discovered martial arts exists.

At some point, someone needs to ask a simple question:

What exactly are we doing here?

The White House has hosted kings, queens, presidents, prime ministers, military leaders, and historic diplomatic events. It has served as the backdrop for some of the most important moments in American history. Now it feels like we’re one step away from monster trucks jumping over national monuments while someone sells commemorative t-shirts in the Rose Garden.

Before anyone starts screaming that this is an attack on UFC, dirt bikes, or motorsports, let’s get something straight.

It isn’t. I don’t mind the UFC and understand many love to watch the sport. I respect the athletes. I think freestyle motocross riders are incredibly talented. This isn’t about the activities themselves. It’s about the location. It’s about the image. And it’s about understanding that some places should still mean something.

When the White House starts looking more like an entertainment venue than the center of American government, we’ve lost sight of the difference between leadership and publicity. What’s next? Clowns selling cotton candy at the front gate?

The explanation, of course, is always the same. “It’s good publicity.” “It connects with people.” “It shows a different side of government.”

Maybe. Or maybe government has become addicted to attention.

Every week there seems to be another headline designed not to solve a problem, but to generate clicks, views, shares, and social media reactions. Christ, you can’t even get on social media anymore without scrolling through hours of arguing over what nonsense our government is doing. What they are not doing, is governing!

The economy struggles. Americans worry about inflation. Cities fight crime. Families struggle with housing costs. Small businesses battle rising expenses. Yet somehow we keep finding time for publicity stunts.

And yes, that’s exactly what they are. Publicity stunts.

The White House is not a sports arena. The White House is not a motocross park. The White House is not a reality television set. It is supposed to represent the United States of America.

For generations, Americans were taught that leadership came with responsibility, professionalism, and setting an example for the world. Just watch a senate hearing and professionalism has been tossed in the trash!

Today it often feels like we’re competing for ratings. The most disappointing part isn’t that these events are happening. The disappointing part is how many people no longer see anything wrong with it.

We’ve become so accustomed to politics becoming entertainment that an octagon on White House grounds barely raises an eyebrow anymore. That should concern all of us. Because when government starts behaving like entertainment, eventually governing becomes secondary to putting on the next show.

America became a great nation through innovation, hard work, sacrifice, and leadership. Not because we could host a fight card or a motocross exhibition on the front lawn.

Call me old-fashioned, but I’d rather see the White House making headlines for solving problems than hosting spectacles. Some places should still command respect.

The White House is one of them.

Welcome to Common Sense University

If I had unlimited money, I wouldn’t build another sports stadium or luxury resort.

I’d build a school. Not a school for children. A school for adults.

I’d call it Common Sense University, or CSU for short!

The admissions requirements would be simple: be over eighteen years old and be willing to admit that maybe, just maybe, you don’t have everything figured out.

The curriculum would be unlike anything offered anywhere else.

The first course would be called Decision Making 101.

Students would learn how to gather information, think critically, and make reasonable decisions without immediately consulting social media, a conspiracy theory website, or that one cousin who somehow knows everything despite accomplishing nothing.

Next would be

Efficiency and Effectiveness.

This class would teach people how to complete tasks without turning a five-minute job into a three-hour production. Topics would include planning ahead, basic organization, and the revolutionary concept of putting things back where you found them.

Then we’d move into one of the most important courses in the entire program:

Helping Others Before Helping Yourself.

Students would discover that holding a door, returning a shopping cart, helping someone carry groceries, or simply asking, “Are you okay?” does not result in personal injury.

In fact, they might learn that communities function far better when people occasionally think about someone other than themselves.

Another required class would be Perspective 201.

Before judging someone for being rude, distracted, or having a bad day, students would be taught to consider a radical possibility:

Maybe that person is going through something you know nothing about.

Perhaps they just lost a loved one. Maybe they’re struggling financially. Maybe they’re carrying a burden that would bring most people to their knees.

The lesson is simple: you rarely know the entire story.

Which brings us to the capstone course:

Kindness Without Conditions.

Students would learn how to be friendly when it’s easy and how to remain respectful when it isn’t.

They would practice smiling, saying thank you, showing patience, and treating people with dignity even when disagreements arise.

Graduation requirements would be strict.

Students must successfully navigate a grocery store without blocking an entire aisle for a 20 minute chat with a fellow shopper.

They must merge into traffic without causing a regional crisis.

They must survive a restaurant visit without treating the staff like personal servants.

And they must return at least ten shopping carts to their proper location.

Only then would they receive their diploma.

Of course, none of this school will ever exist. But maybe it should.

Because somewhere along the way, we’ve become highly educated in many subjects while remaining surprisingly uneducated in the simple skills that make society function.

A little more common sense. A little more patience. A little more kindness.

If enough people enrolled in those classes, the world might become a much better place.

The Roofing Crew

The other day, I looked out the window and noticed a roofing crew pulling into my neighbor’s driveway. The job wasn’t small either, a house and a detached garage. What happened over the next few hours was something most people would barely notice, but it ended up being a lesson in business, teamwork, and work ethic.

The first thing that stood out was how organized the crew was. This wasn’t a group of guys randomly swinging hammers and hoping for the best. This was a well-oiled machine.

Two men worked on the roof tearing off the old shingles. Supporting them were two additional workers whose sole responsibility was keeping the debris moving and making sure nothing piled up or slowed the process. On the ground, three more crew members stayed busy. Two gathered and stacked old shingles while a third operated some type of powered wagon, constantly moving around the property collecting debris as fast as it was generated.

Then another crew member stepped in, operating a lift that delivered bundles of new shingles directly to the roof.

As soon as the old roof was stripped away, the operation shifted gears. The two roofers immediately began installing the new shingles while the support crew opened bundles, staged materials, and ensured the installers never had to stop working. There was no standing around. No confusion. No wasted movement. Every person knew exactly what needed done.

The remarkable part?

The entire project was completed in less than four hours.

Watching them, it became obvious that the speed wasn’t the impressive part. The teamwork was.

Every employee had a specific role. Every employee understood that role. And every employee executed it with confidence. Nobody was trying to do someone else’s job. Nobody was waiting to be told what to do next. There was no horseplay, no distractions, and no wasted energy. From the moment they arrived until the last piece of debris was hauled away, it was all business.

As a business owner, that observation hit home.

Success isn’t always about having the most talented individual employees. It’s about having a team that works together toward a common goal. When everyone understands their responsibilities and trusts the people around them to do theirs, incredible things can happen. Productivity increases. Stress decreases. Customers are happier. The entire operation runs smoother.

The opposite is also true.

When employees don’t know their responsibilities, lack confidence in their abilities, or require constant supervision, business owners find themselves stepping in to finish tasks, solve preventable problems, and carry burdens they shouldn’t have to carry. Instead of leading the business forward, they’re stuck dragging it along.

The roofing crew reminded me of something simple but powerful: great teams aren’t built by accident. They’re built through training, accountability, experience, and a shared commitment to doing the job right.

Maybe that’s why it’s worth occasionally stopping to watch people work.

Whether it’s a roofing crew, a construction site, a restaurant kitchen, a mechanic’s shop, or a landscaping company, there is something to be learned from people who take pride in their craft. Sometimes the lesson isn’t even about the job they’re doing.

Sometimes the lesson is about discipline. Sometimes it’s about teamwork.

And sometimes it’s a reminder to take a hard look at ourselves and ask a simple question:

Am I helping my team move the job forward… or am I the reason it slows down?

That’s a lesson worth learning from a roofing crew!

Be Better, Not Bitter

Here’s a saying that’s a lot easier said than done. But that doesn’t mean it’s impossible.

Somewhere along the way, people became more bitter toward one another and less compassionate. One of the best pieces of advice I was ever given was simple:

“Be the better person.”

Over the last several years, that’s exactly what I’ve tried to do.

Has it always been easy? Not even close.

But I can tell you this: being better instead of bitter is a much better way to live.

There are people from every walk of life. Some are different from you. Some may be wealthier. Some may have a better job, a bigger house, a prettier face, or a more impressive title.

So what?

None of those things give anyone the right to mistreat another person.

At the end of the day, we’re all human beings. No better. No worse. The only thing that changes that equation is when we start keeping score and comparing ourselves to everyone else.

And if you’re doing that, stop.

Throw away the comparison sheets.

Comparison is one of the fastest ways to rob yourself of happiness. There will always be someone with more money, a nicer car, a bigger house, or a seemingly perfect life. The truth is, most people are fighting battles you’ll never see.

Make today the day you choose to be better, not bitter.

Treat people better.

Treat people the way you’d want to be treated.

And when someone wrongs you, try something unexpected. Smile. Show them more respect than they showed you. Not because they deserve it, but because that’s the kind of person you choose to be.

A better household starts with one person.

A better neighborhood starts with one person.

A better community starts with one person.

Why can’t that person be you?

Kindness costs nothing, but its impact can be priceless. The day you start smiling more, showing patience, and treating every person who crosses your path with dignity and respect is the day you begin living a happier and healthier life.

If you’re still holding on to something from the past, remember this:

That moment already happened.

Hopefully it taught you resilience. Hopefully it taught you strength. Hopefully it taught you how to move forward.

But if you’re still carrying it everywhere you go, still reliving it every day, then the person you’re hurting most may be yourself.

While you’re holding on to bitterness, someone else is moving forward and living their life.

Choose differently.

Choose peace.

Choose kindness.

Choose to be better, not bitter.

Rent or Contribution: One or the Other

I came across an article this week asking a simple question:

Should adult children pay rent if they’re still living at home?

Like most parenting questions, there isn’t a one-size-fits-all answer. Every family is different, every situation is different, and every parent will have their own opinion.

I can only speak from experience.

I was one of those adult children who lived with my parents longer than I probably should have. My parents never charged me rent. Not once.

But that doesn’t mean I got a free ride.

The grass was always cut. During the winter, the driveway was always shoveled. I did my own laundry, cleaned up after myself, helped around the house, and contributed where I could. I wasn’t paying with a check every month, but I was paying with effort, responsibility, and respect.

That’s why I think the real question isn’t whether your adult children should pay rent.

The real question is whether they’re contributing.

Every adult living under your roof should be helping carry the load in some way. Maybe that’s paying rent. Maybe it’s helping with utilities. Maybe it’s grocery shopping, household chores, yard work, maintenance, or caring for younger siblings.

What matters isn’t the method.

What matters is teaching responsibility.

As parents, our job isn’t just to provide a roof over our children’s heads. Our job is to prepare them for the day they have to provide one for themselves.

Teach them how to pay bills.

Teach them how to budget.

Teach them how to grocery shop.

Teach them how to clean a house, maintain a vehicle, mow a lawn, and solve problems without someone doing it for them.

Teach them the value of work and the importance of integrity.

Because one day you’ll be gone, and the world won’t care that they never learned how to stand on their own.

If you raise them the right way, they’ll eventually leave the nest with confidence and succeed on their own.

If you don’t?

Go ahead and skip the rent.

You may be preparing for something much more expensive:

A lifetime roommate.

Welcome… But Don’t Actually Talk to Me

While walking Coda today, I noticed something that’s become oddly common in neighborhoods everywhere: the decorative “WELCOME” sign.

You know the ones.

Mounted proudly beside the front door. Planted in flower beds. Hanging from porch railings like the homeowner is the mayor of Hospitalityville.

And yet…

These are often the exact same people who will avoid eye contact with you like you’re there to pass out Jehovah’s Witness pamphlets!

During dog walks, Coda and I pass plenty of these homes. The residents are outside doing yard work, checking the mail, unloading groceries, or just standing around pretending to be busy enough to avoid human interaction.

You wave.

“Hey, how’s it going?”

Nothing.

Not even the awkward white-guy upward nod.

Just dead-eyed silence standing directly underneath a giant sign that says WELCOME.

Now listen… I’m not asking people to host neighborhood cookouts or become everybody’s best friend. But if your home is literally advertising warmth and friendliness, maybe at least acknowledge the existence of another human being standing ten feet away saying hello. After all, I did keep my dog from shitting in your yard.

At this point, I’m starting to think the signs aren’t for visitors at all. They’re more like neighborhood decorations people buy because everyone else has one.

Like suburban peer pressure.

One person buys a “WELCOME” sign and suddenly the entire street looks like a Hobby Lobby support group.

But honestly? Some people should probably skip the mixed messaging.

If you’re naturally grumpy, antisocial, or possess the emotional warmth of an unplugged refrigerator, maybe a more accurate sign would help everyone involved.

Something simple.

“Please Keep Walking.”

Or:

“Not Friendly But We Like Plants.”

Maybe even:

“WELCOME*
*Terms and conditions apply.”

At least then the branding would match the customer experience.

Because nothing is stranger than someone publicly presenting themselves as warm and welcoming while privately acting like saying hello might drain their life force.

Know thyself, neighbors.

And decorate accordingly.