I wasn’t raised with a heavy religious presence in my house. Sunday school was more like Saturday school and my instructor wasn’t a stuffy nun or a preacher’s daughter in law. It was Fat Albert.
With every episode of Fat Albert I became a better person.
Albert and his Junkyard Gang, or for lack of a better word… disciples, would always have just the right thing to say when a moral-testing situation arose. But usually it was Fat Albert himself who dispensed the wisdom.
A bully would be messing with someone at school and Fat albert would usually show up on the scene and lay down the law and everyone would be cool and it only took 30 minutes. A disabled cousin of a neighbor was having a hard time fitting in…until Fat Albert and the crew (Dumb Donald, Bill, Rudy, Russell, Mush Mouth, Bucky, Weird Harold) would step up and make sure everything was cool. Thirty minutes.
I sometimes worried about Fat Albert, how he was always bailing out everyone else and putting the neighborhood on his shoulders. I worried he would crack and lose his shit… but he never did. (I was expecting one episode where Fat Albert would just blow up and refuse to help everyone else and scream “It’s My Time!.” But he never lost his shit. He was the rock of the neighborhood.
When I find myself in a moral-testing situation I ask WWFAD, and I come out of the predicament with a clear conscious and a dozen donuts… and a pizza… and a double bacon cheeseburger… and a…