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June 22, 2011

RJ Imagination Prayer

So, after that last post on RJ I only have one thing to say:

No, I don't want to be RJ. I want to be more like Tim.

Oh, imagine clever Tim making quip after keen quip as eternal as the truth, while clumsy RJ babbles the words out of bounds, ephemeral and forgotten.

Oh, imagine thoughtful Tim receiving (without asking) the best seats in the opera house for coolly expressing his opinion to an aristocrat, while dispirited RJ, obscured, sits in front of the orchestra with the rabble for his embarrassing ignorance of Puccini.

Oh, imagine workmanlike Tim running miles before dawn in the sand, while lazy RJ waits for the late alarm to engage in futile calisthenics and check out from his hotel just in time.

And imagine, finally, an exhausted RJ going home from Venice early (in defeat, upon a private jet), a baseball cap not nobly crowning but merely covering his bald, well-intentioned head with a slight sideways slant, the better to reject perfection, while persistent Tim flies the very jet, his first solo flight across the Atlantic, having recently received his pilot's license after months of diligence.

I bought in. I'm staying in Venice for as long as the itinerary says to. I'm proving through revealed preference that I want to be more like Tim, as opposed to (and specifically for the purpose of opposing) being like Rj. It's so exhilirating to buy in and--actually the itinerary says we're leaving tomorrow morning anyway never mind.

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