Watching Paint Dry
I've always been an enthusiast for the
Fine game of baseball.
I am quite lonely in this league, or so
it seems, as most of
my associates are keen to liken it to
observing the freshly
splashed whitewash of a skilled painter,
which I suppose is a
fair comparison. Both spectacles are
drawn out, repetitive,
and tend to the esoteric within: each
one who is drawn to
enjoy the fanhood of our pastime has
their own personal
mantras, and standards with which to
judge. Every action,
however agile or daring, is but a flicked
brushstroke, adding
to the tapestry of a solitary game.
We are the judge
and jury, the unblinking eye that haunts
the gladiators, the
roving observers who deftly pinpoint
the flaws in a patch
of perfectly white paint. For, perfection
is unattainable, and
knowledge of this is why we don't watch
paint dry, and why
we watch baseball.
Copyright © Samuel Durant | Year Posted 2014
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