You’d think, at my age, I’d understand a good bit about what goes on in the world these days. After all, I’ve kind of seen it all, so to speak. Well, anyway, I’ve read about it all.

As it turns out, the older I get, the more puzzled I get. And every time I write a column about how much there is in this world that I do not understand, up pops a whole slew of new things for me not to understand.

Here’s the windfall since my last column on the subject.

I do not understand: politicians (of both parties) and taxes. Seems to me the first thing a smart politician would do is make sure all those blamed old taxes are paid. After all, they legislate taxes to begin with; it’s not like the idea is a big shock to them. And they “have people” who are hired just to do this kind of thing. Don’t tell me they’re too busy — so am I. But I pay my taxes, because I think my country deserves the attention. (Also, I don’t want to go to jail.) For goodness’ sake, if there’s anything in the world a politician should be seen doing, it is obeying the law! How is that so hard to grasp?

(By the way, have you heard why they are so slow about getting a First Dog into the White House? They can’t find a pooch that’s paid all its taxes.)

I do not understand: the modern taste for horror. During a recent Letterman show, a commercial for a current horror movie flashed onscreen and nearly shook me out of my shoes. A monstrous presence, a screaming woman. (Hey, it’s always women who are being terrorized in these shows — yelling men are apparently third-rate entertainment.) You’d think people would want to hide the way their minds work. But that only shows how old I really am. Back in the day, you had a bad dream? You rolled over and tried to forget it and go back to sleep again. Nowadays, you sit up and write it down. And the next day you make a book or a movie out of it. The more awful the thoughts are that hit you in the middle of the night, the sooner you rush to share them with the world, if only on MySpace and Facebook. (Or is it MyBook and Facespace — never can remember.)

I do not understand: how corporate minds work. I guess it’s pretty much how political minds work, and that is scary enough. But corporate minds that, until the very last minute, see no problem with sending a thousand of its brighter stars on a half-million dollar junket to Las Vegas, when they are being bailed out to the tune of billions of dollars by the government — again, how does that compute exactly? I guess it comes of living in a world where a million dollars is a drop in the bucket.

But then these are the types who see nothing peculiar about spending $900 on a pair of shoes, or $600 on a purse. I don’t understand that either. (And have you noticed how ugly those purses are, folks?) I do not understand: manufacturers who make springs and mattresses that reach a yard or more into the air, so that if you are young you have to get a running jump before you can get on top of them, and if you are old, you sleep at a motel. The really sneaky part of this is that they show them in the stores on bedframes that are about an inch above the ground. At the time, you are testing them for comfort and it never occurs to you until later, when they are delivered and paid for, that your own bedframe is high enough off the ground to store suitcases underneath.

I do not understand: why squirrels are not universally proclaimed the symbols of all fitness clubs. I have got a squirrel that hangs upside down from the base of my bird feeder by its hind feet. Every time he wants a sunflower seed he pulls himself up and gets one. For every seed, a pullup, over and over again. Imagine his abs — a regular Arnold Squirrelzenager. (Six-pack, I call him fondly.)

On the other hand, I have never quite understood why he doesn’t simply hang from his front paws and stay right side up for dinner. Maybe the six-pack is above-the-neck rather than below. I know folks like that.

Like criminals, whose stupidity is sometimes so overwhelming that they deserve to go to jail just for felonious flakiness. Did you read about the one in Prince George’s County last December who was charged with assaulting his mother and released on personal recognizance. He left the jail, and carjacked a Toyota 4Runner in the parking lot. When he was caught, he told police he did it, because he “needed a ride home from jail.”

Finally, speaking of stupidity, I do not understand: how in the world I closed the car door on my face last month. The only thing I know for sure is that I didn’t get out of the way in time. Beyond that, all is dream and conjecture, and a nasty little knot next to my left eye.

Maude McDaniel is a Cumberland freelance writer. Her column appears in the Times-News on alternate Sundays.