Do you think Fred Flintstone ever made it big? Do you think he owned an expansive place in the Hollyrock Hills, up next to the sign, and hung out with the likes of Dash Riprock, Stoney Curtis, and Ann Margrock?
And, do you think he ever expected to? That’s the big question.
I mean, who was Fred Flintstone, anyway? A neolithic quarry worker with ideas bigger than both his budget and his ability to carry them out.
A guy blessed with a loving family and friends, but cursed with the simple bad luck. The dinosaur got pregnant, the sabretooth tigers got to his supply of bronto burgers. Lightning blew up his F-R-E-D radio station. Stuff like that.
I’ve been thinking about fame and fortune of late, wondering if ever that ship would dock in my harbor. And I’ve come to realize that, like Fred, the answer is probably no.
There was that dreadful Flintstones movie, in which John Goodman as Fred did finally succeed, and was fabulously wealthy. But he was a complete jerk, and as cold and callous as POTUS 45.
Finally, when the plot sorts itself out and we find he was just a dupe, he’s offered a chance at real wealth – a partnership with Mr. Slate.
He turns it down, saying “all my life I wanted to be somebody. When I became somebody, I didn’t like who I was,” and goes back to working in the quarry with Richard Moll.
When I look in the mirror, I’m not sure I see someone who’s going to be rich and famous. I see a guy surrounded by a loving family and friends, but not blessed with the luck or talent to bring fame and fortune to him. He’s probably more like Fred.
But, like Fred, that guys believes there’s always another idea, another scheme, another sure-fire way to make it into the Hollyrock Hills.
So, off to another scheme, this one guaranteed to make it. This time for sure, eh Barney?