Do you think you’re cute?
Tyrades! by Danny Tyree
“He thinks he’s CUTE.”
I can’t count how many times I heard my late mother offer that unsolicited observation about some stranger who violated her standards of decorum.
(I can’t count – and my ABCs aren’t so hot, either – because my formative years involved a heap of instruction about allegedly “cute” people having the audacity to wear a ponytail, expose their beer belly, visit a tattoo parlor, wear shorts, read a book, buy 2% milk, use words like “audacity,” etc.)
Mom was never a mind-reader, so I winced when she made her bold (usually out-of-earshot) assertions about people’s motivations. I mean, the folks could have had any number of motivations besides “cuteness” for their lifestyle choices, such as health issues, budgetary constraints, family traditions or an overwhelming desire to bug the heck out of nosey old women.
(Okay, the guy who chased squirrels, buried bones and rolled over for tummy rubs was arguably going for “cute,” but that’s the exception that proves the rule.)
Granted, I myself notice distinctive characteristics of other people, if for no other reason than to be able to assist a police sketch artist. (Mercifully, Mom never had to give such a description. It might have been, “The robber had red hair poured out of a bottle and her hind end looked like it could have been a couple of sizes smaller if she had worked in the garden instead of sitting on the couch eating bonbons.”)
Outside of the police station, I usually keep my comments to myself. “Live and let live” is my motto. My mother’s motto was more like “Live and let live, but if they do happen to die, be sure to comment on whether they’re putting on airs with their casket choice.”
It’s difficult to blame people for wanting to be somewhere in the vicinity of “cute.” Our slavish attention to newborns seems to have made cuteness the Ultimate Good. You never hear anyone gushing, “Awww…” when a lawyer shares the 400th photo of a class-action lawsuit he settled.
Sometimes you’re contented to be practical, sensible and under the radar; other times you simply have to show off your originality, your sexiness, your individuality. (“I am, I said, to no one there. And no one heard at all, not even the chair -- because the furniture all got repossessed when I spent all my money getting body piercings for my appendix!”)
You don’t have to apologize to me if you sometimes make a grooming/wardrobe/hobbies choice to break the tedium of life. I, too, have been known to dabble in things that make me feel fleetingly “special.”
In 1977 I purchased a pair of mirrored sunglasses that would have made any redneck sheriff proud. And around the time my son was born, my headgear consisted of an Indiana Jones-style fedora. (You wouldn’t believe what prompt service you get when you brandish a bullwhip and shout, “My wife says she wants an epidural – STAT!”)
Maybe you find this week’s column cute. Maybe you don’t.
But perhaps it’ll start you thinking about your reaction to strangers. I’ve heard it said of some “people persons” that “they never met a stranger.” Well, I’ve never met a stranger … because they all skedaddle when they see me coming!
*Sigh* Mom said there would be days like this. She got as far as Tuesday teaching me their names…
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Copyright 2026 Danny Tyree, distributed by Cagle Cartoons newspaper syndicate.
Danny Tyree welcomes email responses at tyreetyrades@aol.com and visits to his Facebook fan page “Tyree’s Tyrades.”
Copyright 2026 Danny Tyree, All Rights Reserved. Credit: Cagle.com
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