Day Seven – Perfection Can’t Make It: Just Start

I was just sittin’ ‘round waitin’ for Perfection to show up and make my writin’ glow.  You know what I mean?  And I’d been waitin’ quite a spell, let me tell you, so I moved from the office chair to the sofa, and back again.  A few times.

Since I was back at the desk, I thought the least I could do while waitin’ for Perfection to strike was clean out my inbox.  I mean, have you seen that thing lately?  It was lookin’ like a shelter for late night television commercials, or something.  Well, that little job took all of three days.  Then I was lookin’ for something else to take up my time… while I was waitin’, you know?

Anyway, this one day I’m leaned way back in the office chair, just before it reaches that place where it squeaks real scary.  Like the seat’s about to part company with the legs or somethin’.  So, like I said, there I was leanin’ way back, trying to get comfy while waitin’ for Perfection to do that lightnin’ thing.  You know what I mean?

I was boppin’ to some golden oldies on one of those internet music stations… you know you can play all those great old songs no one knows the name of when you call the local radio station.  I mean, no, I do not want to dedicate Shine My Shoes, Woman, I’m Gonna Meet My Honey Tonight to anyone I know, or ever will know.  If Honey Bunny ever caught me even mouthin’ something that stupid I could say ‘fare thee well’ to just about every tooth left in my head.  What’s with these DJs nowadays?  Hasn’t nobody ever heard of Patsy Cline or Roy Orbison?

But I digress.  So anyway, I’m still leanin’ way back there in my desk chair, singin’ along with Gentleman Jim Reeves… when out of the blue… well, I guess it was really out of the green, ‘cause my office is this pukey pale green, not blue… so yeah, out of the green I hear this voice in my head.


I mean to say.  I jerked back so hard in that chair the darn wheels scooted like a greased pig, right ‘cross the floor ‘til they slammed up ‘gainst the edge of the hall rug.  Me and the chair, we come to a screechin’ halt and started tippin’ head first, right into the hallway… big as you please.

Well, I mean to say!  I reached out and grabbed me a death grip on both sides of the doorframe and stopped my fall ‘bout halfway out of the chair.  Which caused a chain reaction when my weight lifted off that squeaky seat, and the wheels took off back toward the desk again.  Wasn’t nothing I could do, but let go with my hands and kiss that ugly carpet runner Bunny’s mama gave us when we got married.

Now I’m all sore and bruised ‘round the kisser by now, and thinkin’ I’ve gone plum crazy while waitin’ for Perfection to arrive.  Real careful-like, I climb back into that chair, get a tight hold onter the edge of the desk, and lean back just a smidge to see what happens.

After a minute or so, I let go of the desk, real easy-like, and go ahead and get back into my waiting position.  Leanin’, you know?  Gradual-like, I close my eyes, then pop ‘em open real fast and look around the whole entire office to see if I can catch the joker what hollered in my ear.

But all I hear is ol’ Quiet and Boring.  Just like before.  So I went back to waiting for that goldarned Perfection.  Which if it didn’t hurry up and do its shiny business, I was just about ready to unsubscribe to that fool thing.  Altogether!  You know what I mean?

So I’m leanin’ back again, and my achin’ eyes are closin’ more than gradual… fact is, they close long enough for Kenny Rogers to sing all about some lady named Ruby who was off doing something she didn’t have no business doing.


Well, let me tell you, Leroy!  I come up out of that chair like a scalded cat, me going one way, that wobbly chair shootin’ off into the closet where I keep all my writin’ supplies.  Yeah, that one what’s storin’ all the shine I couldn’t fit down under the kitchen sink.  But this situation don’t have nothin’ to do with no shine… no siree, bob.  It’s got to do with some big ol’ voice shoutin’ in my head.

“Who’s that?”  I hollered, just as big and fierce as can be.  I shore to shootin’ wanted that joker to know he weren’t messin’ with no flyweight.  You know what I mean?

And this voice, it just thunders. “Cleophus.  Get off your skinny backside and start!”


Not Your Scalded CatRight then and there, I knew plain as day who that joker was.

Jeff Goins, that you messing with my head?  I’m busy here, waiting for P for Perfect, Perfection to show up and make me a star.”

“Cleophus, if I have to come over there and whomp all over your skinny…” 

Whoa, I for shore never ‘spected Jeff could get a good mountain holler on like that.  Good enough, the lamp on the desk started swayin’ back and forth.  That man has got a set of lungs on him.  Bet he could show that new baby how it’s done, alright.

“Hey!  Let’s just leave my backside out of this.  You could get arrested for even knowing I have one.  Besides, what you doin’, scaring me like that?”

“Perfection is not going to visit you, Cleophus.  You’re supposed to search for it all your life.”

“Well, that clears one thing up, don’t it.  Perfection shore ‘nuff is fe-male.  A guy’s got all he can do to write these stories, and he’s still got to court ol’ Perfection.”

“Don’t you have something you should be doing, Cleophus?”

“Oh, yeah.  Guess I best get crackin’ on the writin’ challenge.  What was today’s word again?”

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