Confessions of a Post-Spiritual Maverick .... a sort of memoir




Clichés aren’t what they’re cracked up to be. Unless of course you have an axe to grind. Take my wife for instance. Please. She went out in a blaze of glory. Kicked the bucket, bit the dust, gone to meet her maker. She was only 30 when she cashed in her chips. Didn’t stand a chance. She thought she was God’s gift to mankind. But really she was skating on thin ice. The tide had finally turned and she was up shit creek without a paddle. Oh well, here today, gone tomorrow.
        The first time I saw her she was dressed to the nines. I was struck by a bolt from the blue.
        “Cat got your tongue?” she said to me.
        I was caught off guard but I knew the score. I had to sweep her off her feet or she wouldn’t give me a second glance.
        “You’re as pretty as a postcard,” I replied. “Haven’t I seen you before?”
        God, I must have been dumber than a box of rocks, but hey, I was bent out of shape. I had already fallen for her, hook, line and sinker. Make no bones about it I was as mad as a hatter. But I had put my foot firmly in my mouth and had to think quick on my feet.
        “Look,” I said, “don’t judge a book by its cover.”
        “Save your breath,” she replied. “I wouldn’t go out with you if you were the last man alive.”
        I had made an ass of myself but it was now or never. I waited for the dust to settle then let fly with both guns blazing.
        “Will you marry me?” I blurted out.
        She looked like a stunned mullet. Then she suddenly broke out into a laugh. She had a smile as sweet as honey pie.
        “Yes,” she said, “a hard man is good to find and you’re just what the doctor ordered.”


They say all’s fair in love and war. Take my wife for instance. Please. Well, my best mate did. He took her for every penny she had. Didn’t stand a chance. While she wasn’t looking he took off like the clappers, money and all. He was out of there like a rat up a drainpipe. Off like a piece of gorgonzola. Can’t say she didn’t have it coming. Served her right. In the end she didn’t have two nickels to rub together. Not a zack to her name. The walls were closing in on her and she drove her car off a bridge. What a way to go.
        I didn’t see it coming. When all’s said and done, however, come hell or high water, I knew which side my bread was buttered.  Better the devil you know than the devil you don’t. All in all, I thank my lucky stars.
        When push comes to shove, it’s love that isn’t what it’s cracked up to be. But it ain’t over till the fat lady sings.

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