The Value of a “Walter Mitty” Adventure In Life

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Pretense is very important.  Without it, we would not be human, for being human entails assuming a persona; and without one of “them there thingies” we would not have culture. We live in a beautiful world and imagination, and the respect for “pretense” that it offers can help us see the beauty even when the mundane or sordid stares at us.  It offers a very nice escape here and there. 

Here I want to share a poem by Grant Quackenbush that I just ran across from “Rattle,” a poetry blog that sends me a daily link: 
 
AMERICAN DREAM 
 
I like to pretend I’m a billionaire. 
It takes the edge off being broke. 
When I wake up in my shoebox room 
which I share with a family of rats 
(I hear them at night 
playing Scrabble in the walls) 
I say: I choose to live this way. I like rats. 
When I go to work and the boss 
tells me to move faster or I’m fired 
I think: I could buy this shitty company 
and sell it to China if I wanted. 
Lah di dah dee, trah lah lah. 
Sam Walton, founder of Wal-Mart, 
drove a 1979 Ford pickup. 
Henry Ford lived modestly in Michigan. 
Look Ma! I’m Henry Ford 
living modestly in Brooklyn! 
I’m wiping my ass with wads of cash! 
I’m the richest schmuck in America! 
And no one knows it but me. 

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