Robert (gurdonark) wrote,

if I were perfect

"The usual call of the Eastern Meadowlark is a clear, whistled see you see-yeer".--Georgia state parks website

I imagine, sometimes, living as if I identified birds by their call, and cataloged beetles for a hobby. I'd live in a small town, where I'd either be the town doctor or the town science teacher. I'd serve on the church building maintenance committee, because I'd be so handy that I could carpenter up grace. I'd be a dab hand not only at chess, but also at bridge, backgammon, and whist. I'd own a lot of tweed. I'd attend historical society meetings, and have a regular poetry circle. Sometimes I would fly fish with hand-tied flies. I'd cut my own firewood, and sketch pictures of the woodlands to hang upon my walls. I'd drive a 1965 Chevrolet Impala, impeccably maintained, but I'd only put 3,000 miles a year on it. I'd walk, a lot. I'd carry a pipe I didn't really smoke. I'd use the internet to complete an informal "Lives of the Saints". I'd read the Harvard Classics Library, volume by volume. I'd help out at the community college, running the planetarium show. I'd be in charge of the town food bank. I'd have a quiet "how y'all doin'?" or "howdy" for everyone I passed. I'd lead "no kill" butterfly expeditions. I'd vacation in the mountains, spotting marmots and rock rabbits, with money I saved by shopping carefully for breakfast cereal. I would seldom utter a discoraging word. I'd know fifteen psalms by heart, but never recite them out loud. I'd be on a first name basis with the folks at the independent book store. When trouble came, I'd face it with serenity. When serenity came, I'd face it with studied nonchalance. I'd be a kinder husband, a more loyal friend, and an affable stranger. I could be pretty good, if only I were more perfect.

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