Miss Anthropy

I've always thought "Miss Anthropy" would be a good name for a character in a book or play (and, in fact, it probably is ... let me Google).

PAUSE WHILE I GOOGLE

Well, I didn't find anything on first page of results that came up--except this: Some folks have adopted the name for various projects and online identities. Not a bad choice.

I've been thinking about this today (and, okay, for many previous days, as well) because I find, as I age, I'm getting more and more and more misanthropic. People annoy me. And, okay, piss me off--a lot more so than they used to when I was Mellow Young Man.

This reminds me of an old, old joke--one that my father used to tell from the pulpit back in Oklahoma in the 1940s and 50s. (I liked jokes in sermons--they were, I thought back then, the best part). Anyway, here's Dad's joke

Some men were installing a new sidewalk--and talking while they did so. One man--let's call him "Dan"--talked about how much he liked kids. They finished the sidewalk, then went off for lunch. When they came back, they found small human footprints in their work. A careless child has been by. Dan barked: "Darn kids!" Other guy: "I thought you said you liked kids." Dan: "I like them in the abstract, not in the concrete!"

That's the way I've been feeling in recent days--no, decades? I like people. Always have. Just not, you know, actual people.

I find myself annoyed whenever I'm out in public--on the road, at the grocery store, at the health club (it's gotten so bad out there that I am dropping my long-time membership), at the coffee shop(s). I see and hear so much ... superficiality, such narcissism (like, you know, having a blog or something), so much selfishness, greed, bias, racism, ignorance, materialism, etc. It's all I can do at times to keep from swinging away.

The principal reason I don't "swing away," of course, is that in mere seconds afterwards, I would be on the ground in an ever-darkening pool of blood. And I would soon be cuffed and escorted away.

Facebook annoys the hell out of me at times--so much so that I now and then, in high dudgeon and surpassing superiority, sign off--forever, or a couple of days, whichever comes first.

Like other people, of course, I am far better at identifying the motes in others' eyes than in noticing the giant redwood beam in my own. (Thank you, Bible; thank you, Sermon on the Mount).

But still ... I find I go out less and less. I "socialize" very rarely--and almost always reluctantly. I know I should be a better person ... more ... relaxed and accepting and whatever.

But I just can't.

I've morphed into Miss Anthropy.