White Bread

I know that I have become white bread ... uninteresting squishy white bread. When I was younger I was more Bohemian ... willing to do more outrageous things just to get noticed. I let my emotions often control my actions ... for the high that comes from such daring-do. But now the burden of age has tempered these eccentricities ... and I am satisfied with doing a crossword puzzle or writing a blog.

And I often question the wisdom of our younger folk who let their hearts control their heads ... forgetting that I was once such. Yes, I know that oldsters who resist such constraints are often held out as not giving in to Father Time and rewarded with a puff piece in the local newspaper. But I don't care. I would rather now traverse a safer path to nirvana than to discover it after a trip on LSD or having survived an Andean avalanche. I now see the wonder in Wonder bread.

Please pass the peanut butter ...