There Is Always a Cheese Merchant

And now, for something completely different ...

A cheese shop I visited in Paris. It has nothing to do with my actual point here, but it was a cool shop, and they did sell cheese.

As I was starting my career as a freelance editor, I honed my craft by taking some publishing classes at UC Berkeley Extension.

I should say learned my craft. The first class I took covered very basic copyediting, starting with the kind of things copyeditors need to check — like capitalization. To illustrate this, the teacher gave the example of cheese. Do you capitalize cheddar, Stilton, mozzarella, Brie? A copyeditor doesn’t have to know these things, but she has to know when to look them up.

Cheese was just an example the teacher used to make her point. But the moment she brought up cheese, an overly enthusiastic student raised her hand. In a loud, drawling voice, she informed us, “My husband and I used to be cheese merchants” — and then launched into a lengthy monologue on cheese.

Clearly, she had missed the point.

The editing classes I took got more advanced, covering much more nuanced and interesting topics than capitalization. But one thing never changed: there was always a cheese merchant.

Where to find cheese merchants

My next editing teacher, John Bergez, handled the cheese merchants like the consummate editing pro he was. I don’t quite know how he did it, but he’d cut them off and dismiss them summarily, while still managing to come across as the nicest guy on earth. Breaking out into a big smile, he’d say things like, “That one went right over my head — it didn’t even stop to say hello.”

To be a serious editing teacher, you need to know how to deal with the cheese merchants.

But cheese merchants are not limited to editing classes. They’re everywhere. You can find them at social gatherings. You can find them at HOA meetings. You can even find them in corporate settings.

A good place to find a cheese merchant is at any kind of community meeting. Just the other day, Rafael and I attended a town hall held by our new Oakland city councilmember. I spotted the cheese merchant there before he even opened his mouth: an older, raggedy Berkeley type whose face was twisted into a perpetual scowl that I could see was more than just Resting Bitch Face. Sure enough, he soon chimed in to voice his complaint.

Other people were asking general questions about the budget, which was the focus of the meeting, and our new councilmember’s approach to addressing the issues in Oakland. This cheese merchant, in contrast, embarked on an extended rant about a specific new building on Broadway that he was against, because it was a few stories high. Never mind that Broadway is a fairly commercial street and we’re in a housing crisis, which will require building more densely. Never mind that other people wanted a chance to speak.

The councilmember eventually cut him off, as the rest of us exchanged raised eyebrows and not-so-discreet eyerolls. As a politician, our councilmember must have to deal with cheese merchants every time he interacts with the public. I don’t envy him.

Blessed are the cheesemakers

Naturally, every time I think about cheese merchants I think of Life of Brian. Although about the makers rather than the purveyors of cheese, its wonderful “blessed are the cheesemakers” scene captures the spirit of cheese merchants.

What did he say?
I think it was “Blessed are the cheesemakers.”
What’s so special about the cheesemakers?
Well, obviously it’s not meant to be taken literally; it refers to any manufacturers of dairy products.

Again, missing the point.

Clearly, this Life of Brian character is a cheese merchant. Cheese merchants fixate on unimportant details and overlook the larger point. Cheese merchants stray from the topic at hand. Cheese merchants think they know best.

The cheesemakers may be blessed, but I’m not so sure about the cheese merchants.

Slipping into cheese merchantry

Still, I shouldn’t be so harsh. Cheese merchants are exasperating, and most of us don’t enjoy being around them. But that doesn’t mean they aren’t as deserving of compassion as anyone else. And let me be honest: as much disdain as I have for cheese merchants, I know I’m not immune to cheese merchantry myself.

I have a decided tendency to take things too literally. I go off on tangents. I’ve been known to belabor points. The need for accuracy seems to be in my DNA. You could say I’m detail-oriented — which we all know is a euphemism designed to make an unpleasant trait look better. Even if it does come in handy on certain job applications.

I do not want to be a cheese merchant. For now, I know that, despite some cheesy tendencies, I’m not quite there. Please stop me if I ever show signs of becoming a full-on cheese merchant. I will thank you. I promise.

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Have you encountered cheese merchants in your life? Where have you found them, and what were they like?