Yes. I answer to “handsome” “debonaire” “intelligent” and a bunch of other grand words you can find in my dictionary. Look at me! I am special! I am unique! I don’t make mistakes! Do you anyone like this? Yeah I thought so. Being perfect is a full time job. It requires that I monitor what people say about me, all.the.time. I mean everything, everybody and everywhere I am mentioned. When I come across any negative reportage, I must answer immediately with 140 characters or less slapping those people down. Whew! That’s a lot of work! Do I have time to eat? Sleep? Sing? Nope. Boasting is an art, believe me. It takes years and years of practice to make it work effectively. It’s a great mask. A beautiful mask. The most beautiful mask of all. Why do I need to impress people all the time? I’m not sure but I think it may be the fact that I secretly know that I am not perfect, that I do make mistakes, that I am wrong sometimes. I guess that makes me human and I can’t have that.

54 Jesus answered: If I were to seek my own glory my glory would be worth nothing; in fact, my glory is conferred by the Father, by the one of whom you say, ‘He is our God,’

55 although you do not know him. But I know him, and if I were to say, ‘I do not know him,’ I should be a liar, as you yourselves are. But I do know him, and I keep his word. (John 8:54-55)

Sic transit gloria mundi comes to mind, yet again. As I get older I can look back at the hard scrabble of trying to live a life of perfection, exalting my accomplishments and pushing my defeats into the shadows. Was it worth the effort? Sometimes but not always. Energies spent accomplishing would have been better spent connecting with others. I don’t get that time back. Perfect? Not a chance. Handsome? Only in old photographs. Debonaire? Only in my mind. Intelligent? Wait, what was the question? It’s too much trouble, and I’m too old to be a god.  I am not better than you, nor worse than you. I am just a shlub enjoying life’s ups and downs. Damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead!

and so it goes…