Et tu, Morgan?

Photo: Danny Moloshok/AP

Last week -- on the heels of the besmirchment of family values poster-boy, John Edwards’ long-term and (at least publicly) happy marriage after his admission to having had an adulterous affair -- came the distressing news that Morgan Freeman was allegedly having one, too.

My response: “Oh, say it isn’t so, Morgan...say it isn’t soooo!!!”

But, alas, it appears -- from his wife’s filing for divorce with the claim that he’s been fooling around for years -- that Morgan Freeman is, indeed, among the ranks of the "long-term-marriage besmirchers." Twenty-four years of vowing “till death do us part” gone right into the crapper. And at 71 years old, just when he was so close to the finish-line.

Callously, the media has been making references to the Edwardses' closeness to the finish line as well, with their relentless bellowing about Elizabeth's "terminal" breast cancer. The greatest offender is that holier-than-thou hypocrite, Geraldo, who never let his multiple marriages put a damper on his legendary trolling for pussy.

WTF?!!!?

No wonder so many women who’ve had late-life divorces say they’d never get married again. What would be the upside?

Obviously, advanced age is no “you’re old enough to know better” insurance against infidelity. But if you marry him and he gets sick, you’re the one who’s going be stuck taking care of him. And don’t expect to be rewarded for it when he croaks, either. What’s left on his pension and in his IRA will probably go to the first wife...with what’s left going to his kids and their spawn. Speaking of which, imagine all the arguments you’d have about whose kids to spend the holidays with...sure to throw a wrench into even a short-span happily-ever-after.

And unless the marriage lasts for ten years or more, you won’t even be able to collect on his social security. And you’ve fucked up being able to collect on benefits from your previous husband by marrying this guy! And btw, how does one go about deciding which marital partner to spend eternity next to?

Having been married twice (getting my ten years in each time), I don’t anticipate getting married a third time. But I am entranced with the notion of finding a soul-mate to take that “walk into the sunset” with. I just don’t want to marry him...or have to take care of him. Traveling, dining, dancing; going to movies, plays, concerts...and great sex, are my agenda. And when the time comes, I want my ashes mixed with a big bag of nutrient-enriched mulch so that I may become potting soil for all my remaining friends' flowerbeds. The grandkids will get the cash.

Meanwhile, back to Morgan Freeman...

He probably wouldn’t remember this, but we met years ago, backstage at the Public Theatre where he was appearing in Corialanus. His performance was brilliant...and I am a sucker for brilliance. There was a mild flirtation, but (sigh) I was married at the time.

I have been a fan of Morgan’s ever since...with an oddly proprietary pride in the world’s discovery of the talent I recognized early-on...and as an actress, a major desire to work with him someday. Wild fantasies notwithstanding, the possibility of a real-life romance never occurred to me because he was "happily married" whenever I was available...and I’m not an OPP (Other People’s Property) kinda girl (my abhorrence to “man-poaching” being subject matter for a future blog).

It appears, however, that my ersatz "Boo" is going to be back on the market soon.

So, Morgan, before we take our respective walks into the sunset, waddaya think? Dinner and a movie?

I’ll drive.

I Spit in the Wind...

Crap!!! A couple hours after posting my “community property....success is the best revenge” diss on my ex-husband and his “Internet Ho” (now his wife) hook-up, I got a notice in the mail from the IRS!

Good Christians & Karma Believers might see that as righteous come-uppance for my not being more loving & forgiving. To which I say, if that’s the case, then why aren’t my adulterous ex and his “thou shalt not covet/thou shalt not steal”-transgressing bitch covered in warts?

Feeling worthy of grace and absolution for doing the Tammy Wynette-thing and “standing by my man” for as long as I did, I repent not. But if that isn’t good enough, Dear Lord...then bring on the locusts.

Btw, here are some of the folks who have stood by ME!

Welcome to My World...

Edge of Night head writer, Henry Slesar, once said to me, “I love making you suffer, because you suffer so well.”

And oh, how I suffered!

As feisty, young attorney, “DiDi Bannister” -- which I played on that ABC soap opera from 1981 till it went off the air in 1985 -- I endured the tribulations of a torrid love triangle with police detective “Calvin Stoner” & his wife, “Starr;” was brainwashed and carted off to an insane asylum in a straight-jacket; held hostage at knife-point; reunited with my estranged brother only to then have to help him beat a murder rap… and on and on…and on.

My real life had its share of drama, as well...

For starters, one of my co-workers was charged with murder! (O.J. Simpson, whose wife I played on the HBO series, FIRST & 10). Then another one suffered a fatal heart attack on the job right in front of me (Redd Foxx, whose daughter I played on the CBS sitcom, The Royal Family.)

Then, on a gig not long after that, I experienced a severe allergic reaction which required me to take steroids on a regular basis if I wanted to keep my job. (A response to the facial prosthetics used to simulate the gruesome-looking "Martin's Syndrome" (Named best "Bad Storyline" that year by SOAP OPERA WEEKLY!) on the NBC soap, Sunset Beach.

Even more drama ensued when I turned forty-five.

For starters, my acting career was "downsized" due to a case of early-onset ageism (which hits most women in Hollywood when they turn forty or so), causing me to lose my health insurance. Shortly thereafter I became an empty-nester, when my last kid went off to college and my husband flew the coop with an ex-girlfriend he hooked up with on the Internet.* (I know, it's such a cliche.)

Along the way, my dad died and my mother was diagnosed with cancer and suffered a stroke, requiring me to move two thousand miles across-country to become her caregiver. Sadly, she died just nine months later.

Except for the requisite "kidnapped baby" storyline, you might say that my life has been a soap opera.

Then again, as "Life" goes, I think that's pretty much the norm.

For the record, as a certified hypnotherapist, I happen to have a credential in “advice-giving,” but I don’t plan on doling out too much advice here...preferring, instead, to engage in more of a "heal myself" kinda conversation.

To give you some background...

When I started my practice in 2003, I saw a pattern of mid-life depression in women who'd been “hypnotized” by the media into believing that they lost value as they got older. I even bought into that idea, myself.

But when I started working with these women and giving them positive suggestions under hypnosis about what was possible in their lives, my own beliefs began to change as well -- so much so that it eventually made it impossible for me to keep “talking the talk” without “walking my walk!”

So, I discontinued my practice and resumed my acting and writing careers with a vengeance. And now I'm getting ready to open Off-Broadway in "MOIST!" (www.moistonstage.com) -- a show I co-wrote, which celebrates the sexual vibrancy, vitality and viability of the "seasoned" women!!! And oh, baby, I'm not just walkin' my talk, I'm struttin' it!!!

...which brings me to my next "walk your talk" conundrum.

What the hell am I going to do about my sex life?

Stay tuned...

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* For the record, I'm working my ass off for "MOIST!" to be a HUGE f------ financial bonanza.

I was married in California, a community property state...but post-divorce, everything I make off this show is ALL MINE!!!

Aaaaahhh, yes, success is the best revenge!

"On with the show!!!" (Just click below...)