I like watching old guys driving new Corvettes. There is something reassuring about seeing a man over 60 wearing a tight t-shirt over what is clearly a spray tan and sporting freshly dyed-black hair. I try not to smirk when a guy gets out of a new Charger with boots on that have a 2+ inch heel and he's still not breaking 5'7". Don't get me started on women. When someone asks me the age of a woman "of a certain age," it takes a lot of self-control not to say, "Well, if you average all of the parts, she's in her late 20's." Sometimes, it is even worse than that. I might say, "Her eyebrows are where her hairline should be," or "That forehead is laminated smooth." Don't get me wrong. Hollywood has never called me for a screen test and I am not a candidate for a modeling contract. That's the point, isn't it. You can see my envy and judgement lathering up and spilling over at the corner of my hypocritical mouth. There is a German term for it, Schadenfreude (/ˈʃɑːdənfrɔɪdə/; German: [ˈʃaːdn̩ˌfʁɔʏ̯də] (
listen); lit. 'harm-joy') is the experience of pleasure, joy, or self-satisfaction that comes from learning of or witnessing the troubles, failures, or humiliation of another. I am not proud of this characteristic in myself. With my Judeo-Christian belief system, I should feel sad, helpful, guilty when I witness these moments. I do feel these emotions if there is true injury or deep and unwarranted humiliation. That having been said, when I read the IMDB profile of Tom Cruise who states that his height is 5'10' and everyone in the world knows that he barely stretches over 5'7" and then puts lifts in to get close to 5'9", I have to laugh. When President Trump leads us to believe that his hair and skin color are in any way natural, my head bends and shakes a little with a smirk on my face as I shake off the absurdity. I will give you my physical spots to look at - (aside from my nose, that when x-rayed looks even BIGGER). My own mother refers to it as the Searcy curse: "No butt, all gut." It is a truth. Facts are our friends, even if they are not friendly. Also, you can throw in my skin, which is not going to be featured on the celebrity sponsored cleaner advertisement. Don't feel bad if you are flash judging my physical shortcomings- I am flash judging yours and then praying for forgiveness and strength to improve. You should do the same, (sorry, that was a little bit judgmental there, wasn't it?). The last election was truly the most flash-judgement festival I have ever seen. People ripped each other apart, unfriended people on Facebook, (think of the gallons of tears shed from that injury), they determined the entirety of another friend’s character based upon that person’s vote for a single candidate. This occurred between people who had known each other for years. I have been reading about the Civil War. Déjà vu, except with 7x24 coverage. Awareness of severity and a low dosage prescription of mood modulators has tempered some of my reactions to all sorts of crazy stimulus. This includes the annual Darwin competition, international parliament fist fights over legislation, as well as all reality television. I have calmed down. My speed to giggle response rate has slowed and I even have stopped judgment altogether. Recently, I walked through a mall as I saw a woman with 3 children on 15 foot tethers each going in separate directions screaming as she pushed a baby carriage into a kiosk. I hardly snickered. I do count and point out mullets to friends. I do this in a way so that it is unobtrusive. I understand that this is the behavior of a 19-year old. Mullets are a timeless category. I close with this one moment of potential Schadenfreude perfection - what if you caught Robert Redford with a toupeÉe? His iconic and timeless good looks are an unassailable challenge to the late middle-agers and beyond everywhere. I’m just saying I think that we would all sleep a little happier, smug look on our faces, if it were true.