The venom in the tone of the Berkeley kid was unmistakable. Apparently he didn’t like something I wrote; but he didn’t attack my words, he attacked me and my age. And my picture! I was brought up to not be so rude. I suppose there was a time when I was judgmental about everything and anything, but my God I couldn’t have been as bad as holier than thou Berkeley, where the ivory towers protect the sensitive delicates from the dirty ugly real world, and where righteousness sparkles in the sun.
Truly I’ve always been amazed that the elderly aren’t taken out and shot, especially in the United States, where youth is worshiped and there is no time for anything that’s not moving at top speed.
linhah