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I'm Not Stupid

I’m not stupid; I’m just mildly dumb. I thought by the time I turned 30 I’d have everything figured out. I thought once I graduated high school and took a few college classes (History of Pants Hemming and Advanced Train Set Construction were my personal favorites) I’d be a genius—comparable to Einstein and Mickey Mouse. 

But no. I’m just as dumb now as I was at 30. And I’m about to turn 60. I feel cheated. No one warned me I’d be a doddering old idiot with no hair as I entered my twilight years. I’m over-emphasizing for effect, but I still want to know why I don’t understand the gravitational rotation of Mars but I do know all about the latest Netflix rom-com.

Not stupid, just mildly dumb.

There are so many things I know so little about. Take, for instance, the ladybug. Why do I always save ladybugs but kill every ant I find in my home? If I found a ladybug in my room I’d give it a chair and hot meal. Ants get wiped out with nary a thought.

Why does my body want more bread at dinner and less broccoli? I thought vegetables were better for us than bread. And why can I eat six dinner rolls with butter in less than five minutes? Why?

Why?

Why are we told to wear sunscreen when we should just stay indoors? Why rub a bunch of oily white paste all over our beautiful faces? Why not just sit on the couch in full living room shade and call it a day?

Why do cats demand so much from their owners and not pay for a damn thing?

Why are fish so cute in water but we still eat them with rice and tartar sauce?

How can we have robot ice chests delivering hamburgers to our door but we still can’t have another Beatles. Or Jimi Hendrix. Or even Liberace.

Why do we need math classes when we have Google and iPhones?

And for that matter, why are kids stuck indoors in crowded classrooms sitting at hard wood desks when they could be outside in the fresh air learning everything under a tree with their phone?

Why do I wake up every morning and tell myself I will not under any circumstances eat another piece of cake before bed. Ever again.

And speaking of bald old fools (I mean me…don’t get offended) why did I start losing my hair at 30? And don’t give me that ol’ “He has too much testosterone in his body, that’s why he looks like a walking egg…”

In closing, I will say it again (just to make myself feel better) I’m not stupid, just mildly dumb. I am older but not so wiser. I have so many questions still unanswered. I don’t know if I’ll ever learn how to cure my baldness, eat more cake and still stay slim.

And if anyone knows of a good masterclass on how to develop love and affection for ants, let me know.

 

Thank you for reading, sharing & enjoying. 

Your support is greatly appreciated!

☕️ TIP JAR ☕️


GET MY BOOK TODAY! 


©2024 Bruce Palma. 
All rights reserved.

brucepalma.com


@realbrucepalma





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