Things I don’t understand

The world is full of things I do not understand.  I will never know what makes electricity work, why some atoms make explosions and what made the first person decide to boil a lobster to see if it was edible.  Here are some smaller things I wonder about and I have as little chance of understanding them as the big ones.

I don’t understand why women claim to be independent and liberated and yet each generation lets itself get talked into fashions that are not only unflattering but can be downright dangerous.  Remember platform shoes in the 70s?  Part of my brain said they were safer than high heels, but people broke their ankles falling off them.

Today’s women are wearing platform high heels, combining the unstable front with a stiletto back and shoving five toes into a space barely big enough for three.  I don’t understand how they can stick their bare feet into those shoes, either.  When did women stop wearing stockings?

I don’t understand why people are so thrilled to have cathedral ceilings in their houses.  I had one in my first house.  It was impossible to reach the corners where the cobwebs collected.  I certainly couldn’t have climbed a ladder to paint a wall that far off the floor.  Forget about reaching the ceiling.  They used to say that the cheapest way to change the look of a room was a can of paint, but that isn’t true if you have to hire someone to do the work.  Come to think of it, have you looked at the price of a can of paint?

I don’t understand how someone can look at a closet outfitted with lots of little cubbyholes and only 2 feet of rod space and get all excited.  I have a ton of clothes on hangers.  What would I do with them in that closet?  Why would I want to start folding my clothes instead?  It takes longer and leaves fold marks on the clothes. Maybe I am supposed to throw out all of last season’s clothes and buy just a few good pieces each year.  Yeah, that’s going to happen.

Some years, my style isn’t available anywhere, so I have learned to keep my clothes and hope they will still fit next year. (If they get a little small while hanging in the closet, I keep them a while longer, just in case. You never know.)  Yes, I said my style.  I know what looks good on me and what I am comfortable wearing.

I don’t understand tattoos.  Putting aside the horrifying thought of sitting still while someone repeatedly sticks me with a needle, why would I want something on my body that I cannot change?  Do I still wear the clothes I loved at 20? (That would be bell bottoms and miniskirts in very bright prints.)  If I still had those clothes, would they fit and be bright and pretty or would they have stretched and faded over time?  I have seen old tattoos on old bodies and believe me, it isn’t art anymore.

I do not understand who decided that a man with a two day old beard was sexy and attractive.  They look scruffy and unkempt to me and the older ones, not naming any names, look like aging bums.  I know for a fact that kissing one makes me feel like a pincushion.

The population is getting older and yet publishers keep making the type smaller so they can get more words on the page.  They also got rid of the extra space between sentences.  What with iPods and Kindles making print books all but obsolete, it seems that old cranks like me should be their target audience, but they are shutting us out with their tiny unreadable type.   Here’s a flash, guys.  I can make the type as big as I want on my Kindle.

Here are some things I do know.  If I like a product, they will change it or discontinue it. How they figure out exactly what I like I still don’t know, but their accuracy is unerring.

If you like something, like a pair of scissors or a hairbrush, don’t wait for it to wear out before buying another one.  By that time, you won’t be able to replace it.

If you buy a pill that comes in an easy-to-open bottle, never, ever throw that bottle away!  They will stop packaging it that way and you will be back to trying to figure out how to break into the bottle when your head hurts.

If you buy something and you aren’t happy, use the 800 number on the package and have a nice chat with the manufacturer.  You will be astounded at the free stuff they will send you as a thank you for giving them feedback on their product.

Want to rant about something?  Misery loves company and complaining together usually makes me laugh.

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