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.