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A Gray Hair

This morning I found a gray hair. A gray hair! Sure my beard was a little salt and peppered but now my scalp is seasoned too? That’s just PEE-CHEEE. It’s these damn kids. I don’t share in the joy these ignorant teenagers have. I’m not a cheery cherry-faced kid anymore; I’m a cheeky old bastard who slaves over students. Yes, I thrived and survived in college but that was years ago; years that stretched out like taffy but with no lingering sweetness at the end. Now I fashion a puppet-like smile while listening to teenagers full of pep and passion, while my adrenaline-fuelled adolescence fades like an old photograph. I am an overgrown schoolboy searching wildly for the cup of Christ. Scratch that I have no proof of God. These kids drove me to become not an atheist but an agnostic. One who feels assured that there is a God but sees no proof of His presence. You could say I am the Switzerland of theology. But if Ponce de Leon offered me the lost contents of his beloved Fountain I sure as hell wouldn’t say no would I? I mean look at these kids. They don’t understand the gift of a youthful mind thus giving teachers like me a reason to run for the hills rather than do our jobs. Take Tasha for example. Her education consists of smearing on raccoon ringlets of eye makeup, fiddling with her phone, and picking at a bi-weekly hickey tucked under her blouse. My, oh my, ladies and gentlemen you can lead a w**** to culture but you can’t make her think! Hate to break it to ya sweetie but there’s no Fine Art’s degree in bed-hopping. Then there’s Guy, the gift from God himself! Who dresses like his life is one long brunch, with the ever-present Who-Farted-Face at every thought controversial to his own. Whenever that syrupy smile of self-congratulation leaks out I have to fight back the urge to punch the lumpy pancake of his face. The rest of them are your typical Breakfast Club spread, all the cluelessness but without the silver-screen charm. Altogether a horde of lemmings with no idea who they are or what their role is in the game of Life. God knows why I still give them a fighting chance. Maybe it’s because I pray I come across a few Velveteen Rabbits, you know the kids who want to enter reality but have no idea how. They say ignorance is bliss and these kids certainly believe they are smart enough to face the termites of adult life and escape without a mottled, hollow log resting upon their shoulders. I admire their spunk even though Age is too notorious a villain to outwit. These kids claim they are too short for You-Must-Be-This-Tall-To-Grow-Up ride, but hey so was Napoleon and look what he accomplished.



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