by Steven Kunert
Too bad the genetic makeup of humankind doesn’t mandate this evolutionary inevitability — as one gets older physiologically and psychologically, one naturally grows in freedom from inhibitions, sheds all prejudices and becomes more joyful. Imagine, for instance, the heightened happiness at your nearby old folks home, where ever so often the gay grays get so jolly that neighbors become annoyed enough to call the police and complain about the ancients’ overly loud laughter. Or fancy perhaps these neighbors dialing 911 when the retirees’ giddy frolic spills into the streets, as these radically and overly content wrinkleheads dance on the hoods and roofs of cars owned by those who called the cops, those not yet fully developed in happy human genetic progression — middle-aged fuddy-duddies stymied by obligations and issues brought on by their crappy careers, faulty finances and funky families. Envision on your avenue such a beautiful riot—some of the participants enthused pink-haired and rollicking stem cell research supporters driving solar-powered walkers, wise elders with perfectly seasoned double helixes and hormones and intellects, reflecting the given human biological dictum that as we age all of us get more joyous and free of our hang-ups. Just think, even some of those regularly uptight or angry folks you know — like Republicans and religious nuts — would be mellow and tolerable when reach their golden years. Well, okay, maybe they’re not ready yet.
Steven Kunert's writings in fiction, nonfiction and poetry have stretched for 30 years in publications such as The Starving Artist Times, Dude, Rio Grande Review, Word Riot and decomP.