Friday, November 28, 2014

WE BUILD THE VERY LADDERS WE CLIMB


Having been around for a while, I picked up on some things that I couldn’t see before. Sometimes it takes me years to catch on, and sometimes decades, but eventually I do catch on.

Take for instance smoking: I quit way back on December 31st 1989, a few minutes before midnight. Did I decide that at that moment? No, I had planned it because I needed a plan, a target date and a good reason was already brewing in my head, the fact that I was paying large corporations, in this case the tobacco companies money to kill me, while they made a profit off my stupidity. I had started at the age of 11 and decided that it was enough. I had three children, one was only a few years old, and I wanted to see him grow up. It was easy to quit.

I have made previous and numerous attempts at losing weight, but always beat myself by falling prey to traditions, and self interest and of course: outside pressures. There is only one person to blame and that was: me.

What is fueling my thoughts right now is not my past, but the parallels of life and how we deal with things as we move along in our personal timelines, and the comparisons and opinions we formulate by what others do.

Mom used to say: “The way you make your bed is the way you sleep in it.” That saying was passed down from her mother.

So what am I getting at here? After reading all the hysteria of the Bill Cosby situation, this is as of November 21st, it strikes me that like the bridge at Remagen in 1945, the Ludendorff Bridge it was called that the German army set with explosives, it didn’t explode until it was way too late, and US Troops crossed it into Germany and that led to the final defeat of the German nation. Mr. Cosby has reaped while he raped, and unfortunate play of words that perfectly illustrates my point. He has outlived the statute of Limitations and his only penalty will be his loss of income and face in his days to come, this for a 77-year old man!

Mr. Cosby of course lied to us, he made us believe that he was America’s dad, he was the perfect model for all black men to aspire to, and in a sense he did well with that. But he is what he is, and the question begs: How did he get a way with this disguise, this deception that played so well to his adoring public, one of which was I?

He used his fame and fortune to keep his peccadilloes out of the public eye and conscience; he was allowed to slide by, even though there were witnesses to his crimes. These crimes were not of passion, but of self-glorification, self-greed and like all-powerful people: invincibility by not having the victims speak out and bring the man to justice way back when.

Mr. Cosby successfully built the ladder then climbed it and we look amazed at the ladder, and not the man. He had reached the top, and now we see what he did along the way up that ladder.

 







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