It’s All The Rage: Don’t Act Your Age

“This is the lesson: Never give in… Never, never, never, never, …in nothing great or small, large or petty-never give in except to convictions of honor or good taste.”

Winston S. Churchill

Not then, as a child,
Or as manhood took over,
Physically following nature’s
predictable course of events
Happening to find myself experiencing,
Never quitting, though provoking,
Or as is so aptly put in the world
of pugilism, throwing in the towel.

Regardless of personal mindset.
Each day of my manly humanization
Fortunately learning the curative value
a good night of sleep might bring…
And the next day with God once again
turning on the brightness of a new early morning
Looking forward whatever the reason
Was then my implacable direction?

Though his discernable direction
Far in the future
Never to be disclosed!

And the above
Truth be said
For all who knows the man
Or knew of him when living
If only by letters read

All agreed, some ferociously
No man ever more stubborn
Before, or in his stead.

Ralph Waldo Emerson said, “We are all shaped and fashioned by what we love.”

One person who had read his quote, instantly allowed complete agreement, expounding on how their total lifestyle was joyous and giving.

While another person, formed and covered by a different cloth, disregarded the author’s substance while observing dispassionately, “How could a guy named Waldo know anything about real life or love?”

Is serving a form of elegance?
Is giving a form of graciousness?
Is turning the other cheek a loving thing to do?
Where do I travel at this seemingly late date to get the answers to my penetrable questions?

Questions most likely not answerable: a homeless man asleep on the street, obviously without any noticeable wealth after being mugged, knowing no other alternatives rivaling his survival, when asked by a reporter, “What were you thinking?” replied, “I felt I was about to die, and you know what…I didn’t give a damn until I realized I was far too young for a final breath.”

It kind of shoots the shit out of what our friend Ralph Waldo Emerson had to say. Maybe the question about whether a guy named Waldo had credibility turns out to be a good one? I’d never be guilty of trying to explain to either of my children how the person who was stealing from the homeless man did so from a position of love. And, if the man were a loving guy, he would have informed the crook he had missed the real hiding place.

Mom and Dad were loving people, I guess, but they dispensed love on a family first quota. Simple people with a simple regimen; family first, followed by friends, if you happened to have any. Stay where you belonged in your own neighborhood. Don’t go looking for trouble. Stay in good shape so you could blossom tomorrow when God decides to turn the lights on for another day.


Have you ever given blood?
Been mugged?
Been in our country’s military service?
Been insulted because of your race or religious preference?
Been frightened to the point of vomiting, or losing control of normal bodily functions?

No? Then how the hell do you know what it might feel like to do so? But… you do qualify to become an elected official and, most likely, you already are one.

As I become older and older it becomes easier and easier to act my age. Often the thought of curtailing my emotional outbursts doesn’t remotely enter a psyche, which has endured a parade of dishonest and self-centered politicos hell bent on being a feature player on any power-driven stage that might have them.

A singer who can’t carry a tune, a comedian who isn’t the least bit funny, the pretty or handsome face that isn’t capable of any form of an honest portrayal, all joining forces with a ventriloquist whose lips move uncontrollably during a performance all manage to join hands and take a bow together, knowing it will be their last.

It is, after all, a paid election.
No audience will pay to see them ever again.

The actor, however, is forced by the nature of the beast that governs his life or death the constant necessity to audition for his future sustenance. His past and present will dictate the future. Unlike the elected official, who revels in being elected one term after another although his performances have been shoddy at best, he nevertheless is able to blame his ineptitude on the actors who trod the boards before him as the culprits, who should be the ones blamed for his deceit and malfeasance of performance. An actor who performs poorly usually experiences a short-lived career.

Shouldn’t that be the case for our civil servants?

As actors, we have in common an honesty that cannot be taken from us. We strive to perform well. We all seek the applause and standing ovations accompanying our fine performances. But what about our civil servants who lie and cheat? What about those who promise to serve my brethren–service men and women, who served those same civil servants that now without care make our heroes wait in endless lines?

My name is Harvey Kalmenson. I’m too old to concern myself with anything but the truth. We have men and women in line waiting to be helped. They paid for their tickets to get in, and now the people who own the theatres are not living up to the promises made to them.

“America will never be destroyed from the outside. If we falter and lose our freedoms, it will be because we destroyed ourselves.”

Abraham Lincoln

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