Cumberland Times-News

Maude McDaniel - Living

November 5, 2011

The older she gets, the less tolerant she is


You probably haven’t noticed this, but I seem to be getting less tolerant with age. Sort of like the mellowing of fine wine, but in the other direction.
There was a time when I thought I could probably tolerate most behavior I didn’t agree with. (Consider the culture of my generation, however, and remember that in my youth, disagrreeable behavior meant, like, people yelling at people.) But now the behavior I don’t agree with seems to have grown by leaps and bounds, way beyond yelling at each other, and more like shooting at each other.
You’d be amazed how hard that is for someone like me to tolerate. There are times when I can hardly tolerate myself not tolerating things that are basically tolerable — that is, they don’t necessarily mean the world is coming to an end.
Though sometimes I think it might be. That’s when I find myself, oh, so terribly tempted to do things like — well, yell at people.
I used to be more forgiving. About tattoos, for instance. You may remember past words here that were mildly scolding, taking full blame for my own short-sightedness, admitting that although I personally couldn’t see the appeal, I was sure there was some need in the younger, and increasingly older, generation that is now covering itself with the most repellant designs, the deep meaning of which escapes me.
That was then. Now I just hate tattoos. Not the little ones so much, but I’m talking the huge body-blocking signboards that reach every available inch of space, including the neck, and in some cases, the face itself. The ones that look like you desperately need a bath. People have got to hate themselves to try so hard, and at so much pain, to hide themselves from public view.

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Maude McDaniel - Living
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