De gustibus non disputandum est

A dear friend of mine started saying this to me when I was approximately 8 years old. I didn't know what it meant, even after she explained it, and I certainly didn't know the literal translation. But over the years, I began to know what she meant by it. She meant something like, just because you like something, that doesn't mean everybody else has to.

So that's it. We don't all like the same things. And there's no accounting for it.

For example, I heard someone say, while sitting in my kitchen, "I HATE homemade ice cream that isn't soft." Yes, that's right: milk, cream, sugar, vanilla, fresh strawberries swirled together and then frozen. He hates it?

See. No accounting for it. (Maybe he was exaggerating?)

Now if we all absolutely LIVED by this principle and accepted the fact that we all like different things and that's ok, approximately 80% of the internet would immediately disappear and 50% of our conversations would stop happening. That's because 80% of the internet is devoted to making fun of what other people think is cool (or going all obsessive over something most people don't care about). And half the stuff we talk about is the same--"Can you BELIEVE she left the house in that?"

So I'm not saying that I want that to happen. Where's the fun in life if we can't poke a little fun now and then or roll our eyes a bit at what some people go ga ga over?

But c'mon. There's no moral value attached to the liking or disliking of jackets, tomatoes, foods that are green in color. There just isn't. Ok, so vast portions of the population agree that tomatoes are good. That doesn't put the people in that majority on some sort of moral high ground from which they may look down upon me and say "tsk tsk tsk."

Admittedly, it's something I do all the time. I'm just saying.

I'm also saying my husband reads this blog and therefore knows what I'm saying about him here. I married him because I love him, but I expect that no one else feels quite the same way about him. And I don't want any of your husbands either. Not my taste. Not BAD taste, mind you. Just not MY taste. Aren't we all grateful for it?