Last week after I was in class for well over an hour, I suggested we take a 10 minute break. I dashed to the restroom and, when I got to the urinal, I discovered that my fly was open. A minute later, as I was washing my hands, I debated if I were going to say something to the class. I kept pondering this while walking back to the room.

Once in the room, with the students again attentive, I said that I discovered that my fly was open and I suspected that more than one student had noticed this. I suggested that should this happen again that they needed to say something. One of the challenges of living alone is that some of the basics of grooming get missed.

A store clerk recently showed me shirt after shirt in blue, not my favorite color. When I asked him why he was doing this, he said that he assumed it was my favorite color. I replied that it was the color I could most readily see with my particular color blindness. Again, a workaround for living alone.

It seems that the fear of appearing critical may have become so complete that the people around me don’t comment on the observations that they make. Alternately, they may assume that I just like one color or that my groin needs an airing.

For me adept and considered criticism is an indicator of observation, interest and thought. Apparently my view on this is not all that popular.