Where’s the door?

Tolerance.  It’s the buzzword in everyone’s vernacular these days, and it’s bantered around like an explosive tennis ball.  It’s the holy grail of attitudes.  It’s the banshee of political careers. 

But no one appears to want to be tolerant of my apparent intolerance.

Of course, it hasn’t always been that way.  I am quick to agree that many intolerances are wicked—racial prejudice is at the top of my list.  But I’m really quite thankful that the Bostonians threw the British tea into the harbor (no offense intended to my Anglican readers), happy that Neville was replaced by Winston and that no one said “ho hum” concerning Pearl Harbor.  I’m also quite pleased that some guy