Pink Professor Couple Journeys Home

Of course I'm delirious with my good fortune to this point, having received back the missing piece of my soul, 7% of its total, lost in San Francisco in 1975. Then my delirium continued with my ecstatic reunion with The Pink Professor. To think we're back together again! ... My mind is totally blown! Then, as well, I've had the coolest, richest friend at my side, the billionaire! None of this could've happened without him, the financing alone would've staggered me. Cool dude! I'm about ready to explode if anything else cool happens; don't try me!

Everyone's looking at us -- me and Pink -- and wondering what's next? And how does the billionaire fit in this picture? Since, naturally, everyone thought that he and I would end up together; we've been joined at the hip all month, so that would've been a pretty good guess. Yeah, yeah, he's still in the picture -- I'll put all rumors to rest. He's still in the picture as a dear, dear friend. Who did for me so many things that blew my mind. The whole month's been a mind-blower!

I don't know what else I can say, though, without making everyone entirely jealous. Because I know, one guy's good news is a source of pain for everyone else. People would rather see you dead than think they themselves somehow missed out. How can this guy be so happy, while I sit here in my same old boring life, missing out on everything? I'm not going to ask for a show of hands, OK? Just know, I know that's how the world goes 'round. I've felt the daggers shooting my way since way back, like when the billionaire gave me the $2.1 billion. The cattiness I got, I shouldn't say anymore.

Let's face it, though, not everyone's going to live their lives in such a way as to please you. Still, I know, at some point I have to let this story subside into obscurity, because from your point of view, it's nothing but rubbing your face in it, if someone else is too fortunate. I get that, I took Psych 101. It's why you never hear much about the lives of billionaires. You may see in the paper that a billionaire donated money to a political candidate, but that's it. Where they live, what they do there, etc., the papers don't print that. They don't dare, or we'd cancel our subscription. The lives of quiet desperation we typically live, we don't want their good fortune to be an added burden.

With me, then -- in this story -- it was only adding insult to injury that barely anything went wrong. And that's what people want when they get their grubby paws on a story. A falling out, a sad ending, and for me, the hero, to slink away licking his wounds, to the general merriment of all, taking on myself the derision of my peers, one who aspired to heights above his abilities only to crash to earth according to the spirit of divine justice or karma. Since that didn't happen, What a trite story! I'm chuckling a little. A story like this can go that way, and for most of you that would've been satisfying. But what about me? Oh, I know, I committed the unforgivable sin of being so wealthy my success was guaranteed.

With that out of the way, allow me to continue---

We were so happy in San Francisco. The Pink Professor said goodbye to his underlings/students under the bridge. The billionaire spent close to $4 million tricking out The Pink Professor symbol on the blimp, adding my symbol to it, to portray my soul-completeness and the fact that we were wonderfully reunited, something to celebrate.

We headed for home, one of the world's first journeys of this sort where there was a crew of galley slaves and not a single man was lost. I was virtually certain a few of them at least would've gone AWOL in San Francisco, only to be found in a bathhouse. Am I right? I know if I were a galley slave reenactor and got a free ride to Frisco, I'd probably bale. The hell with diddling nothing but oars, am I right?

A little more happiness to lay on you: (If you're the extremely jealous type, don't read any further.) It's not in the picture, but the billionaire spent an additional $30 million, maybe $40 million, to rent 40 additional blimps (without galley slaves, which was cost-prohibitive) to accompany us as far as the Wyoming area. Also, he notified every biker bar between the coast and home to come out and wave at us. They know The Pink Professor; he's the sun, I'm the moon. And they definitely love him! So they're all out along our journey, throwing pretty petals high in the sky, a lovely sight.

I became so ecstatically happy, I had to go to my quarters, lie there and think, think, think about The Pink Professor, and thank my lucky stars, of which I saw quite a few.

Why You'll Never See Me In Black

Probably all of you remember Johnny Cash being "The Man In Black." He wore black, he talked about his clothes, he wrote a book called that, and he had a hit song of the same name.

Now that he's gone, you don't hear much about it anymore. Which is why I want to reopen the subject for a new generation. Because now, thanks to the world's progress, there's no more reason to wear black. And if Johnny Cash were here today and able to look around at our progress, I'm sure he would agree, and purchase some lighter threads.

Remember his song, "Man In Black," in which he explained why he wore black? He sang:

I wear the black for the poor and the beaten down,
Livin' in the hopeless, hungry side of town,
I wear it for the prisoner who has long paid for his crime,
But is there because he's a victim of the times.

Right off the bat we see where he's going. Back then there were folks who were called poor and beaten down, folks who were hopeless and hungry. So to address that, Johnny Cash wore black. Of course there was nothing about his clothing that told the story itself. He needed to spell it out for us, then whenever we'd see him in black, we'd know what was going on.

But hallelujah! There's no more need for black, now that everyone has enough for his daily needs, now that folks are no longer beaten down, and now that no one is hopeless or hungry. And the prisons are empty. Most of them have been torn down, there being no more need for them. If I felt like wearing black today, I'd have to come up with a whole new set of reasons, because with progress we've eliminated the old ones. That's great news!

I wear the black for those who never read,
Or listened to the words that Jesus said,
About the road to happiness through love and charity,
Why, you'd think He's talking straight to you and me.

Again, hallelujah! There's no one, except maybe newborn babies, who hasn't read or listened to the words of the Lord. All of us in this more enlightened time, thanks to the strides of progress of the last 30 years, have easy access and eager minds to imbibe the wisdom of Christ, as he speaks still about the road to happiness through love and charity. We've not only had the teachings, we've lived out their spirit. So ... no more need for black.

I wear it for the sick and lonely old,
For the reckless ones whose bad trip left them cold,
I wear the black in mournin' for the lives that could have been,
Each week we lose a hundred fine young men.

There's no more sick, there's no more old who are lonely. There's no more reckless ones taking bad trips. There's no more need to mourn the lives that could have been, because they're all living to a ripe old age, thank you very much, and enjoying their lives immensely. I'm thinking the last piece of the stanza had to do with guys who were fighting and dying in Vietnam. Of course that's long since over with, and because the world has found a way to live in peace, everything now is great. Black is definitely out!

Johnny Cash was, I hate to say it, the definition of pessimism. Read this depressing verse:

Well, there's things that never will be right I know,
And things need changin' everywhere you go,
But 'til we start to make a move to make a few things right,
You'll never see me wear a suit of white.

First, he thinks "there's things that never will be right," saying he knows that! Unfortunately he isn't with us today to eat his words! He didn't imagine the golden age that has opened up to us, where every evil has been dealt with and everything good, right, and proper is the order of the day. And yet, look at the last piece, he at least had the optimism to imagine that we might "start to make a move to make a few things right..." What?! "Start to make a move..." and "to make a few things right." It's not as optimistic as it sounded on first hearing, but only then -- only then -- would we, might we hope to see him wear a suit of white!

The big finale drives home his pessimism and his despair at having to always wear black:

Ah, I'd love to wear a rainbow every day,
And tell the world that everything's OK,
But I'll try to carry off a little darkness on my back,
'Till things are brighter, I'm the Man In Black.

He'd "love" to wear a rainbow everyday, he'd "love" to tell the world everything's OK, but, alas, he couldn't. If only he'd lived, he would have seen that day come, that day of rainbows, happiness, fulfillment, and righteousness. Instead, as he shuffled off the stage, he sounded a Suffering Servant/Christ-with-His-cross tone, "I'll try to carry off a little darkness on my back..."

You know what, that's a far out thought! Maybe after Johnny Cash's death, his atonement amounted to something in glory. Maybe that's how we got the switch, how everything started coming up roses. Johnny Cash's clothes saved the day. In glory, his having been clad in black ... saved the world! Stranger things have happened!

So, up there somewhere, today, Johnny Cash has to know the world's Golden Age is here. Injustice, heartache, and all forms of evil have been dealt with. Mankind is in harmony with his brother once and for all! And that's why you'll never see me in black!

All Things Being Equal

I want to write my morning post about the phrase and concept of "all things being equal."

All things being equal, it's as good an idea as any. All things being equal, what's the difference? All things being equal, my blog's the same as others. All things being equal, whether I have two readers or 40,000, who cares?

There's plenty of scurrilous knaves out there, like Charles Grassley, Glenn Beck, and Kim Jong Il who are doing their thing and I'm doing mine. All things being equal, that makes me pretty bad. Which is not the way I want to say it. How about this? All things being equal, these evil guys are out there doing their thing, and I, being a good guy am here doing my thing.

Just because all things are equal doesn't mean life's an indistinguishable stew. And stew would be the perfect analogy. All things being equal, you don't have stew without all the ingredients together. The potatoes, meat, carrots, gravy are what make the stew. Every two bit hobo in a train jungle could tell you that. And all things being equal, his word on the subject is the same as mine. Take his word for it.

All things being equal, I should have more patience and confidence than I have. But all things being equal, whether I do or don't doesn't make much difference. I should have more patience and confidence because, all things being equal, I should live in this moment in a singular way. Doing so means not looking ahead. And doing so means trusting my abilities in the moment. But all things being equal, of course I'm going to look ahead. So the thing to do is to be patient and confident while looking ahead because what's ahead is just more of what's now. All things being equal, it's crazy to say I'm going to be patient and confidence now but I'm not going to be 10 minutes from now.

I've always had egalitarian ideals, all things being egal, I guess. That's how we got the Eagle as our American symbol, because of our eagalitarian ideals. They cast about, looking for just the perfect bird to be the symbol, and, all things being equal, thought, what about the sparrow? The sparrow would be a great American symbol, in my opinion, because it's lowly, uncolorful, yet a hard worker. What could symbolize our hard scrabble immigrant forebears better than that? Pecking at the ground to eek out an existence, living in an unheralded yet persistent way, flying high, flying quickly, but not offering flash or seeking vainglory.

But all things being equal, they said, Yes, the sparrow is great. But what's so great about being lowly? What's wrong with some color and size? And hard scrabbling may be our way of life but it's not our ambition. And to peck at the ground to eek out an existence, we want to do better. And as far as being unheralded, we'd prefer heralded, of course, all things being equal. And a little bit of flash -- a lotta bit of flash -- is cool. And what bird is more pimped out than the eagle? (The ostrich and peacock come to mind.)

All things being equal, I think I'll quit now.