Mayflies. Toddlers. Tree swallows. Apologies--isn't it interesting that
the best and most genuine ones are short and to the point? The longer
they go, the less honest they are, and the more they turn into insincere
performances; see any politician's press conference ostensibly
apologizing for his misbehavior, with his poor grim simmering spouse
alongside for the photo op. But the brief admission of idiocy---that's
delicious. My bad spoken clearly on the basketball court. The
Mass that cuts to the chase and doesn't sprawl into performance art and
endless self-absorbed homily. The quick wit, the bushtit, the postcard.
The shorter saints like Teresa of Avila. The brief ride in the car and
the short plane flight. The chapbook, the brief line at the bank, the
hilarious thirty-second film clip. Young people only as tall as your
knee, who generally see the world with fresher eyes and an admirable
lack of agenda. Small cups of strong coffee. Small boys with short hair
whose heads in the right light look exactly like peaches. Brief phone
calls and electronic-mail missives that get to the point without undue
blather and verbal fencing. Small sharp astonishing poems. Novellas.
Pencil stubs. Tree frogs. Sandals. Brief heartfelt prayers. Like this
one. And so: amen.
Brian Doyle
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