If you don’t have enough slack, you’re wrapped too tight. If you have too much, then I guess you’re a slacker. The tricky part, as so often in life, is knowing what’s too little, what’s enough, and what’s too much.

This is not to mention the question of why the plural of slack refers to a pair of pants. But we’ll set that aside for a moment and focus on the singular.

All of us need to be cut some slack once in a while, and it’s nice to know when you’re in an environment where folks will do that. Your friends will cut you some slack when you need it, and your good friends will call you on it when you’ve asked for slack too many times, and you’re at risk of becoming a slacker. Here’s a quick rule of thumb I just invented: imagine that you are obliged to do something to a particular level of quality at a particular time (let’s say, buy beer for a party and show up a half hour early to put it in the cooler and help get things set up), and you fall short. You get one case of beer instead of two, and you show up a half hour late instead of early. Possible responses from your good friend, the host, when you say, “Damn, bro, sorry I’m a case short and an hour late. Can you just cut me some slack on this one?” and what they mean:

1. He acts astonished and asks if everything is OK in your life right now. You are wrapped too tight. Cut yourself some slack in the future.
2. He’s sympathetic, and mentions that it isn’t like you do this all the time or anything. You hit the sweet spot.
3. He says it’s OK, but you notice he’s not real surprised. You might be becoming a slacker.
4. He doesn’t say anything, but you realize he also had another friend signed up to bring the beer. Who’s already there, with two cases of beer and a spare cooler. Face it, you’re a slacker alright. But you’re a slacker with an extra case of beer, and you’re at a party, so that’s cool, anyway.

Which is by way of saying, I got cut some slack at work today, without really having to ask, so I’m grateful for that. And they didn’t ask what was wrong, or heave a big sigh, either, so I figure I’m in the sweet spot for now. Whew!