Impatience
It happened like it has happened hundreds of times. Sitting at a red light and it turns green. The clown behind me starts blowing his horn like he we both missed the starting gun for the Olympics 100-meter dash. It is of utmost importance to accelerate within 1.5 seconds of the light changing or the “horn bullies” come out of the woodwork.
Like many of you, I s-l-o-w-l-y take off as though a hound is peeing on my tires and not wanting to interrupt his business. Naturally, designated clown speeds off around me, waving with one finger the first chance and gets stopped at the next stoplight, With me right behind him. I try to be pragmatic: he is going to get to his location exactly 7.1 seconds quicker than if he stayed behind me. But, in his peabrain, he won.
That’s the definition of impatience.
We all do it. Some noticeable. Much unnoticeable.
“What’s taking the Keurig so long to make a cup of coffee?” We add the sugar and cream as the cup fills up. We are too impatient to wait. The same is true of the microwave. Even though the popcorn bag says 3 minutes, we are too impatient, so we remove it at the 2-minute mark, so we don’t have to wait.
Remember the old days when we had to go to the World Book, dictionary or phone a friend to find out the pronunciation of the state capitol city of Kentucky. Arguments ensue whether it is pronounced Looey-ville or Loo-uh-vull. We get impatient and look it up. The correct answer? Frankfort.
Trivia games can no longer be played. The reason? Impatience. Even though the rules state: no cell phones. Somebody will keep one under the table. Participants will scroll to find out the name of the largest of the Great Lakes. It’s Lake Superior. (I just looked it up.)
Have you ever noticed how anything that requires time has a “how to speed it up” instructions somewhere. How to remove wallpaper, quicker. How to change the tire, quicker. How to cook ribs faster and better. How to get skinny in 30 days. The list goes on and on. Why? Impatience.
Jerry Clower loved to tell a story about impatience.
A slick hog feed salesman with a Happy Goodman Family hairdo, called on Uncle Versie Ledbetter trying to sell him some pelletized, homogenized, pasteurized, quick acting hog feed for only $14 a bag. They were standing next to Versie’s hog pen, staring at some bony Poland China hogs.
The salesman asked. “How old is that 150-pound sow right there?” Versie said, “about 9 months.”
“Do you know if you had been feeding our special feed I was telling you about, that sow would already top out at 240 pounds?”
Versie replied: “Yeah, but what’s TIME to a hog?”
Versie Ledbetter was extremely patient.
No one is now more impatient than administrators and fans of college athletics. Each of these college football coaches had some down years: Bear Bryant, Shug Jordan, Vince Dooley, John Majors, Barry Switzer, Bobby Bowden, Steve Spurrier, Lou Holtz, Howard Schnellenberger and Tom Osbourne. Some were at their schools for 20 to 25 years. Guess what? Back then, everyone was patient. What changed?
Today, fans are calling for scalps after one or two years. Auburn has had a few recent coaches who served only 2 or 3 years and were shown the door. Donors want a solid ROI. (Return on investment.) The rationale: we have given you plenty of money for the transfer portal, NIL, coaches’ salaries, facilities, and a support system.
If Indiana can do it this quickly, why can’t you? Playoffs or the exit door.
You also see it now in the younger workforce. Older workers paid their dues and progressed up the company ladder while waiting their turn. Not today. If a millennial doesn’t get a significant raise or promotion within two months, they start looking around like a four-eyed-cat. Our parents worked for the same company for decades. Not today. They change jobs as quickly as we change drawers.
The definition of impatience.
We have become a “microwave” society. We want it and we want it now. Not later but NOW.
We complain that it takes 5 seconds to connect to the internet. Cell phone connections are just too slow. We forget about the days of limited minutes and long-distance calls. Or having to wait until the water in the hot water heater got warm enough for a bath. Instant coffee was for those in too much of a hurry to wait on the percolator.
It reminds me of Fred Sanford going into a fancy restaurant with Big Dummy Lamont. When the waiter brought the wine list, he showed Fred some special wines which were 5 years old and some even more expensive which had aged 10 years. Fred’s response: “I didn’t come here for old wine. I want the best. Bring me some that is fresher. Do you have any that’s about a month old?”
When I had my knee surgery back in 1985, it took months to recover. Today, an athlete can have surgery this morning and be up rehabbing this afternoon. We had players miss a season with knee surgery. Now, they might miss one or two games.
We don’t have patience to wait.
Except for Uncle Versie’s hogs.