Zacchaeus Was Never a Mountain**

Zacchaeus Was Never a Mountain,

But He May Have Moved One

When He Was Only a Kid

 

Voltaire famously said: “God is a comedian

Playing to an audience that is afraid to laugh.”

 

But if that is so, I do not think that the Almighty is all that funny �"

Especially when it comes to subjecting me to the high drama

 

Of unsolicited physical change;

 

Which is different from spiritual or intellectual change

Because it rarely turns out for the good.

 

But a few days ago, my daughter asked me

If I thought I might be getting shorter.

 

I said that I hardly thought so,

But agreed to be measured

 

Because I like it when loved ones express even scientific interest in me.

And the idea of a man shrinking with age seemed like a good metaphor

 

For how I feel about my life generally �"

 

And strong metaphors about a person’s life are hard to come by

When all the good ones have already been taken by his enemies.

 

More importantly, what if it were true?

 

What if I was shrinking?

 

But I was confident that I had not shrunk,

As I am 70 years old �" Not 90!

 

And from what I can tell,

 

I still tower over a multitude of people

Who are persuaded to embrace dotage

As a doable, if not a satisfying lifestyle.

 

Yet I have indeed shrunk by more than an inch �"

And that has caused me to consider purchasing a firearm

Because I am no longer an imposing 72-inch mountain of a man,

But less than a seventy-one-inch Zacchaeus who is, of course,

More likely to provoke the attention of predatory individuals.

 

Now, when I look in the mirror, I see nothing that suggests

That I was ever a mountain, or anyone other than Zacchaeus.

 

I suspect that young people conclude the same about me,

And that is an outrage �" and even an ignominious scandal

 

Because I like talking with young people

And have interesting things to say to them.

 

But there is a standard one must measure up to

If one is to project a believable air of sage wisdom,

 

And I believe I have fallen below that line.

 

Conversely, my much-criticized adolescence

May have been the tallest period of my life.

 

I transitioned from the ideals and wondrous visions of make-believe

To the nasty reality of knowing what grown-ups really think of each other.

 

It was by far the most astounding revelation of my life.

 

Yet, I had a rebellious new body that demanded my attention,

And in every instance had ambitions of its own.

 

What I was taught at home became the subject of scorn

For grinning, malicious half-wits who may have been

Only a bit smarter or “cooler” than I was.

 

And what I had come to revere was scorned

By the prurient repartee of my overseers

At Henry’s De Luxe Hamburgers

 

And many other adults who were thought to be

Good role models for a lower working-class kid.

 

I was on my own, and it was up to me,

Even though I lacked the resources

And particularly the inclination

To make reasonable decisions.

 

Many sought to make a fool of me,

But many more were made happy

To see me make a fool of myself.

 

But I had something that the world envied

To the point of pitiable existential madness:

 

The ability to live from moment to moment,

Oblivious to my mortality or anyone else’s.

 

I could jump over fences and run cruel gauntlets

With astounding indifference to the fiendish gaze

Of all those who had already failed the test.

 

And I could fall in love several times

During any given week or summer daydream.

 

I was a nincompoop, but I could do anything

Faster, better, and more joyously than I can today �"

I was me when I liked being me more than I presently do.