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If Wisdom Comes With Age

If wisdom comes with age, I'd rather be dumb.
Self-improvement may be all the rage, but I’m fine with “dumb.”

In an age when you can govern a state or run for VP,
If you can dress a moose,
You can talk ‘til you’re blue in the face about wisdom.
Honestly, though, what’s the use?

If wisdom comes from pain, you can have mine.
“No pain, no gain?” That's insane!
If you’re offering me misery,  I decline!
I've got no compulsion to see my mettle tested.
Don't care if my character development's arrested.
If wisdom comes from pain, you can have mine.

Though it's not like I didn't try...

I've been to EST, I've been to Landmark; I loved Lifespring.
I've had my charts done and my cards read; I checked the I Ching.
Been to the fringest of the fringes; the woo-est of the woo.
I even tried being a Republican, too.

If I were a fine Cabernet,
I’d say “Hooray!” for each passing day.
If I were a wheel of Brie, I’d ripen with age.

But ripeness of mind can turn into decay.
When life is a  scramble and not a soufflé.
Approaching life’s coda, I'm looking like Yoda,
But thinking like Mr. Magoo.
I’m just an old coot,
So the whole wisdom question seems moot.

If wisdom comes with age, I'd rather be dumb.
I would have liked to have been a sage, but I’m fine with “dumb.”
I'm not knocking wisdom, to have it would be nice,
But losing my hair, my teeth, my health? Just too high a price.
If wisdom comes with age, I'd rather be dumb.

I made it through Master Path and Heaven’s Gate and Opus Dei,
And did my Essential Compass every day.
I read every book by Deepak Chopra,
But I learned just as much by watching Oprah.

If this is the wisdom that comes with age, It feels kind of dumb.
Against the dying of the light I could rage,
Until they drag my bones to the crematorium.
With age and wisdom you will understand the futility of life,
You'll want to slit your wrists
If you can just remember where you left the damn knife.

But don’t worry: once you finally find the knife,
You won’t remember what you wanted it for.
It all works out.

So, if this is all I get when I give up my youth,
I think I’ll medicate with gin and vermouth.
Shaken not stirred

After 55 years, I'm still no Gandhi.
The mysteries of life are still far beyond me.
If these are the wages of age,
I’d rather be dumb.
Young and dumb.
Healthy and dumb.
Sexy and …
Dumb!