older and… more intolerent?

I  might have mentioned that I turned 40 this year. Back in April to be precise. Now that doesn’t bother me a whole lot, people get older and time marches on, I don’t have a problem with that.

However… what I have noticed is that I seem to have a growing intolerance for people who get on their soapbox and don’t know what they are talking about; people who are racially prejudice;  people who are in a rush to go… where?; people who are unkind to children, animals and the elderly; people who have no time for ‘community’; people who are just… well… morons! (I’m sure there are more that I haven’t mentioned.)

I’ve turned into one of those crabby old women who shake their heads at the younger generation. I frown every time some hoon roars around the corner near our house at high speed not considering that children might be riding bikes in the street or people might be walking dogs on the street (because we have no footpaths); I abhor teens who are wearing iPods and don’t bother to acknowledge the bus driver or checkout operators; I loathe people who are constantly in a hurry and shove by those taking their time. I feel for mothers who have children throwing tantrums in shops but I don’t have tolerance for mothers who scream at their children and whack them in public… so many things bug me now that I wouldn’t have given two hoots about 10 years ago.

It’s an interesting thing.

It really makes me think about this poem which I first read when I was about 20. Geez, 20 years ago!  A woman I worked for got me to type it up for her and make it look pretty.  She was about 50 at the time and when I think about it, she scoffed at all of the things I mention above! Is it a case of older and wiser?  Do we age and realise the importance of the big picture? Do we realise that what really matters is the cuddle with our children, the laughs with our spouses, the happy times with our siblings, the advice and love from our parents?  I don’t know but I know that I have a very different perspective on things now than I did a few years ago. This is the poem I’m reminded of.

When I am an old woman, I shall wear purple. By Jenny Joseph.

When I am an old woman, I shall wear purple

with a red hat that doesn’t go, and doesn’t suit me.

And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves

and satin candles, and say we’ve no money for butter.

I shall sit down on the pavement when I am tired

and gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells

and run my stick along the public railings

and make up for the sobriety of my youth.

I shall go out in my slippers in the rain

and pick the flowers in other people’s gardens

and learn to spit.

You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat

and eat three pounds of sausages at a go

or only bread and pickles for a week

and hoard pens and pencils and beer nuts and things in boxes.

But now we must have clothes that keep us dry

and pay our rent and not swear in the street

and set a good example for the children.

We must have friends to dinner and read the papers.

But maybe I ought to practice a little now?

So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised

When suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple

Ironically, purple has always been my favourite colour LOL! Even having purple as a school uniform didn’t turn me off it.