Crop up: (v) to bear or yield a crop; the result
Occasionally, I find myself sitting in a meeting with people from a ‘planning committee,’ and because a certain subject has drawn extensive conversation and disagreement, the chairman of the event will close off the topic by remarking:
“Well, let’s just see what might crop up.”
It is one of those statements we make when we think further debate is more tedious than something that might attack us because we did not prepare for it. Of course, often we are either too smart or too intimidated to settle for such an ambiguous assertion.
For instance, if four or five of my friends and I were standing at the bottom of a mountain, and someone said, “Let’s just climb up,” and one of my buddies responded, “But we don’t have a rope and we’re old and out of shape.” Then if another fellow piped up to object, “Listen, let’s just get started and see what crops up,” truthfully, we would not follow that advice.
Certainly, when we were younger and experimenting with our sexual loins and we became so excited that we were ready to indulge in intercourse with another human being and this partner said, “I hope you don’t mind—I have chlamydia,” the normal reaction would most definitely not be, “That’s ok. Let’s just see what crops up.”
What I’m trying to say is that there are moments when we are of sound mind—even when we seem to be possessed of unsound intentions.
So why can’t we make voting one of those?