"The Bridge"

Hello all. Back again under the Black Cloud? Most folks are smart enough to get out of the rain, but since you're here, let me regale you with Chapter 2 of my autobiography, "Me & My Black Cloud". This chapter is titled "The Bridge" which describes the stage of life I'm in now and offers a few of my pearls of wisdom. While it is a bit long for a blog, I think you will find it entertaining. I would love your feedback. Thanks in advance for all your comments good or bad!

"The Bridge"

As I mentioned in the introduction, I am 47 years old. I have been told by all the talking heads that 47 is the new 35. All I know is I am in the transition stage. What is the transition stage you ask? This is the undeniable period between the hope and optimism of youth and the taking up of permanent residency in Old Fartville. Let’s just say the transition stage lasts pretty much your entire forties. I call this transition period The Bridge. Yea I know, I really stretched my imagination to find a trite metaphor. But this bridge is special. It is a one way bridge. You are forced on The Bridge whether you want to go or not. There is no turning back. You cannot stop on The Bridge because you will cause a traffic pile up. I am now on The Bridge. I can see behind me. It’s getting fuzzier everyday, but I pretty much know what’s back there. I look ahead and see the decaying city of Old Fartville. It scares the hell out of me. No turning around, no stopping, and forced to move forward. I’m thinking about jumping off this fucker.

I’ve acquired some knowledge along my journey, and I’ve learned there are only two things which can prevent you from becoming an Old Fart. The first is money. Money can buy you cool cars, big houses, face lifts, and the ability to hook up with younger people. It staves off the Old Fart syndrome but rarely ever stops it. Hugh Heffner is a classic example. I believe he is 104 now and he is still tapping 18 year olds. But you can tell money can only go so far. My God look at the man. Just the other day Willard Scott had his face on a Smuckers jar. I mean he must fart three times just crawling in bed with that bevy of beauties. Now that’s just sexxxxy.

Then there are those who have a ton of money, but despite all their efforts cannot stave off the Old Fart syndrome even for a little while. Take Larry King. He has traded up to a younger model through marriage 43 times, and yet, since the first memory I’ve had of him on television, he has been the poster child for Old Farts. He must have done his wardrobe shopping at the Old Fartville Mall since the day he was born.

The funniest thing to me though are those people who are loaded and are in the early stages of Old Farthood yet they have deluded themselves into thinking they are too cool to fall victim to it. I mean can there be any better example of this than Donald Trump. The puffed up come over, smoldering pre hunch back glare, and the phlegm filled “YOUR FIRED!” tag line are filled with so much irony of which he is totally blind to. It’s just delicious. If there were any justice in this world, God would smite us all dead except for Donald Trump and Rosie O’Donnell and force those two to procreate.

I mentioned there were two things which could stave off becoming and Old Fart, one of which is money. The other is wisdom. Yes wisdom is a delicate elusive vapor which settles on all of us from time to time but rarely ever stays. The very select few which embody wisdom will never become Old Farts. For me, the ultimate personification of wisdom was Mother Theresa. She imparted so much on so many and wanted so little in return. Her famous quote was, “God doesn’t require you to succeed; He only requires that you try.” How much more wise can you be. If wisdom had a human body, it would look like Clint Eastwood, act like Mother Theresa, and have the voice of Morgan Freeman.

Through extensive research or just simple observation, I can tell you ninety eight percent of Congress, all of the Supreme Court, and the majority of city councils across America are not just Old Farts but dangerous weak minded Old Farts. Seriously, when you see Barney Frank what do you think? Forget your party affiliation for a moment, and just be honest. How about Dick Cheney? What about any of the justices from the Supreme Court? I see the manifestation of everything I don’t want to be or ever want to see my daughter be. I see these people and I think, “Yea they got money but wisdom has never laid a hand on them.”

The stupidest thing our forefathers did was to set minimum age limits on serving in our government. The smartest thing we could do in our nation right now is to reverse those age limits immediately. No one over the age of thirty should be allowed to serve in any government position. Think about it. If all of Congress, the Supreme Court, and our President were under thirty, our nation’s image around the world and image internally would instantly change from a nation of rich, greedy, warmongers to a nation of vibrant, hopeful, go getters. Today’s twenty to thirty year old nation doesn’t carry around the angst, hatred, racism of Old Fartville. Not yet anyway. We need to distance ourselves from all the baggage the Old Farts carry. They stand in front of the camera saying, “Do this for the childreeeen,” with tears streaming down there face and greed for the money from the bill they are passing in their heart. They and our nation are so used to crying poor, crying sick, crying fat, crying old, crying can’t, crying illegal, crying discrimination, crying democrat, crying republican, crying liberal, crying conservative, crying hate, crying taxes, crying why, and crying why not. We need to shut the fuck up and channel Mother Theresa and cry nothing, but do everything.

I’ll tell you right now, I have neither money nor wisdom hence my desire to jump off this fucking Bridge. I look like Francis the Mule, act like Yosemite Sam, and have the voice of Pee Wee Herman. Yet, true to Mother Theresa’s mantra, I’m trying.