On the left a photo of a ripened russet potato under which
it reads, the potato. On the right a single serving of fries pictured
neatly in a bright red container embossed with a pair of golden arches. Below
that, the word, perfected.
If ya haven’t yet guessed it’s an advertisement for McDonald’s.
In this particular case a roadside billboard strategically placed just a few
hundred yards from one of the chains more than 30,000 fast food restaurants
worldwide. And while it failed to leave me salivating for a No.2 Extra Value
Meal, it did get me to thinkin.
Like you I’ve probably polished off a small truckload of Mickey
D fries over my lifetime, and yea they’re pretty darn tasty, but perfect?
Eh. In fact, I’d venture to say that to an ardent potato farmer the global food
service retail giant has got its potato protocol bass ackwards, and that in his
eyes, a perfect potato is one that remains rustic and raw rather than processed
and packaged.
Then again, a basket of In N Out’s famous animal
fries might sound like the perfect late night carbohydrate to a pack of hungry
thrash metal heads on the heels of an Anthrax reunion concert. For my wife it’s
a cleanly scrubbed spud lightly basted in olive oil baked at 450° for
forty-five minutes and then generously smothered in all the fixins. Personally,
I fancy mashed, by hand, the way Mom used to make em. And of course let’s not
forget those spirited souls out there who I’m sure would defiantly contend that
potato perfection simply cannot exist without the laboratory aid of a fully
functional distiller.
My point: Perfection is personal. It’s highly subjective and
therefore strangely and uniquely different for each and every one of us. I mean
let’s say you and I did happen to agree that Mickey D dishes up the
perfect serving of potato paradise, chances are we’d still squabble over
whether it’s an extra pinch of salt or a heavy-duty dousing of ketchup that
makes em…well, even more perfect. See what I mean? Wait a minute. More perfect? That can’t be…
Or can it?
In just a few short weeks the 2012 Summer Olympic Games will
get under way in London, England. Athletes from around the
globe will gather to compete in their respective events. The common goal: to
bring home the gold. For some that means layin down the fastest lap. For others
it’s lifting the greatest amount of weight. And still for others it’s all about
that, “perfect 10.” Unless of course you’re a gymnast, because last I heard the
longstanding international symbol of excellence had been officially retired
from gymnastics in exchange for an entirely new scoring system, one that, if
I’m not mistaken, resets the bar somewhere around 16 or 17.
Confused? I’ll say.
I mean when’s the last time you heard someone utter, “On a
scale from one to 17”? It’s 10. It’s always been 10. Whether you’re judging an
Olympic event or a drunken backyard belly flop contest, 10 is top dog, the
cream of the crop; the “pinnacle of perfection.” It’s the best of the best, and
you simply can’t do or get any better than that.
Or can you?
Snapple, makers of quality teas and fruit drinks, has long
touted their products as being, “Made from the best stuff on earth,” and yet in
a recent TV add they announced that, “The best stuff just got better.” Well
I’ll be, I guess the best can be
better. I guess maybe there really is no such thing as perfection. Damn, now
they tell me.
Actually, to be “perfectly” honest, I’ve been acutely aware
of this bit of gospel truth for quite some time. You see, as an aspiring
perfectionist myself (keyword aspiring) I’ve spent most of my adult life
struggling with this anal addiction, and while I’ve ultimately caved into the
idea that there’s no such thing as utter perfection (subjective or otherwise) I
continue to harbor an uncontrollable urge to ignore the obvious, and with
nominal success I might add. Why? Because as any true-blue perfectionist will
tell ya there’s always (keyword always) room for improvement, and nowhere
(keyword nowhere) have I found this to be more so than on the long arduous
journey toward self-improvement, a journey on which I personally have made many
a mistake. A journey that over the years has kicked my ass, drowned my spirit,
and put my head into a tailspin more times than I can count. Yet one that’s
also taught me an invaluable lesson or two along the way, such as, sometimes
(keyword sometimes), rather than, “goin for the gold” if you will, get out
there and do some good. In other words, instead of constantly chasing
perfection or making the goal to be the best you can be, just make it a point
to go out there and have a good day.
Now now, hold on my fiery-eyed Perfecticon, before you start
hurling evil cyber missiles my way let me explain. First of all, when I say,
“rather than ‘goin for the gold,’” I mean it purely as a metaphor. Believe me,
I appreciate mammoth ambition and the insane kinda commitment that goes along
with it as much as the next guy. And regardless whether or not it’s achievable,
perfection remains at the top of my list of honorable virtues. But the truth is
a little good goes a long way, and for many of us it just might be that perfect
little something that gets us through yet another far from perfect day.
And secondly, when I say, “Have a good day,” I’m not
referring to some, “Starbucks just added
a brand new flavor of Frappuccino to
their menu,” sorta good. I’m not talkin some superficial candy-coated, “Have a
good day Honey,” kinda day. I’m talkin about a good f**kin day, one that turns
an otherwise average day (the most common among us 9 to 5er’s) into an above
average day; one that on a scale from 1 to (hell feel free to insert any number
you like here) ranks right up there with the best of em. Not perfect, not the
best ever, but good. G.O.O.D. Good.
Still not buyin it, still on the edge of your chair in all
out attack mode ready to fire off a blistering round of virtual nasty bombs?
Well then think about this: When’s the last time you had a perfect day? When’s
the last time you had a great day, a glorious day, a fantastic, awesome, or outta
this world day? Well, as much as I hate to say it, “I thought so,” and that my
stickler friend is what’s so cool about a “good” day. Unlike its killer
counterparts you can have one damn near everyday.
But hey, don’t let the notion of mediocrity fool ya, just
because a good day can land at your feet at any given moment doesn’t mean it’s
just gonna drop in uninvited. You’ve gotta make it happen. (We said go out
there and do some good remember). Which of course shouldn’t be a problem
considering there’s like a bazillion ways to do it. Just a few good moves here
or a couple of good choices there and viola', that routine run-of-the-mill
dime-a-dozen day is suddenly lookin pretty damn good.
Oh, and unlike all those full-flavored not-so-good-for-ya’s
we talked about in the opener, good days are extremely healthy and big time
beneficial to your overall well being. So go ahead, feel free to overly
indulge. No really, it’s “perfectly” all right, because when it comes to a good
day there’s no such thing as too much of a good thing. See ya next time, till
then, keeep it up.
