The Pursuit of Perfection

Ponita asked: “Where do I find one like you up here?” (Whoa! People “like me” aren’t all THAT marvelous to associate with...trust me on this).

Rahm Emanuel, Obama’s Chief-of-Staff answers: “We will not let the pursuit of the perfect stand in the way of achievable goals”.

I ponder.

An acquaintance of many years once fell in love with a lad. He was a tradesman. I never met him and I can’t recall his craft. Let’s call him a carpenter (‘cuz the imagery is just too righteous...hammerin’, nailin’, erectin’, etc., etc.). Yeppers, let’s make him a carpenter.

And she? She was a scholar. “Best in Class” from first grade through twelfth. She was gonna matriculate with a degree in business administration, dontcha know. She was...exceptional.

He loved her. She loved him. He proposed. She declined.

OK, allow me this: I don’t know the full story. I don’t know the in’s and out’s. All I know is what I heard: that she passed on a man who loved her.

She figured she could do/deserved better. She was a scholar. A woman of substance. She was smokin' hot. She was not one to sell herself short.

The carpenter lad was sent packin’. He eventually found another. Created a family. Lived...well...however he lived. I don’t know his story. Just his fate.

She? She dated quite a few well-educated, well-heeled professionals. She searched far and wide, did whatever she needed to do to probe her and their desires. Sadly, nothin’ much came from that. She courted wealth, fine pedigree and sculpted cheekbones. She actually found ample exemplars of all that. She experienced a full three decades of all that.

But she found neither love nor devotion. She never again revelled in loyalty, honesty or raw sweat.

She had assiduously attended to her explorations.

She ended up hopelessly longing for a pair of honest, calloused hands.

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