I know that the following will seem like a silly bit of prose, but beneath that silliness is something to considered.  When do we fail to take responsibility?  When does our arrogance and self-righteousness color and detract from our qualities?  When does “not my responsibility” blind us to the needs of others?  Just thinkin’.

I’m Simply Grand!

Don’t look at me I’m not to blame I didn’t rain out your silly game.  I didn’t bring the clouds so grey, and cause the thunder to pound away and dampen down your Saturday!

Don’t look at me I’m not the cause, I’m not known to have any flaws. I didn’t get grease on your white dress. I didn’t make your hair a mess. I didn’t cause that bad  grade. I didn’t cause the goof you made. And those extra pounds, I’m here to say I didn’t make you bulge that way!

Don’t look at me, I’m much too bright. My opinions are always right! I didn’t bake a cake that fell; my culinary dishes are always swell. It wasn’t me that stained the rugs. I didn’t encourage fast breeding bugs. I don’t recall raising my voice or ever making a bad choice.

Don’t look at me, why, I’m simply grand! I’m always there to lend a hand. I didn’t dig holes in the yard or put the neighbors on their guard, or cause the dogs to bark and bark, or blow a fuse when it was dark.

Don’t look at me my moods are fair, even with the burdens I must bear. I’m always cheerful, bright and gay. I’ll probably always be that way.

So don’t blame me if your world should sour. Think of me as an eternal flower. And during the course of a grouchy day, just pause and consider how I got this way. And then you will think — by golly gee, I could be perfect, just like he!

Now don’t get me wrong, I have my faults, I haven’t learned to dance the waltz, I don’t know how to fix my car or hit a golf ball very far. I haven’t yet written a book or got a cutthroat on a hook, and I have never sheared a ewe or climbed the summit of K2. So, you see, I’m just like you.  So above average!

I am sure you don’t think me a bore, but modesty prevents me from saying more.

The End

For What It’s Worth.


From the Escott archives, Circa 1971, updated 2016.