By Jim Hagarty
If I could only be half as smart
As the guys in the coffee shop.
I’d probably own a yacht by now
And hang with the cream of the crop.
Cause those guys seem to know everything
And they make me feel like a dunce.
I wish I could be as smart as them,
Not all the time, only once.
And once would be all it would take, I think
For me to hit it big.
I’d put all that wisdom to perfect use
And then be dancing a jig.
I’d set out to buy that coffee shop
And put up the price of each cup.
And charge those guys a wisdom tax
When they noticed the price had gone up.
If I was as smart as the guys in the shop
But I know I will never be.
It’s a dream I have, just a foolish dream,
That I know I will never see.
So I listen instead to the smart guys talk
And wonder just how it could be,
That God gave the brainpower to those guys,
And there was none left over for me.
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Author: Jim Hagarty
I am a 72-year-old retired journalist, busy recovering from a lifelong career as an unretired journalist. This year marks a half century of my scratching out little fables about life. My interests include genealogy, humour and music. I live in a little blue shack in Canada and spend most of my time trying to stay out of trouble. I am not that good at it. I also spent years teaching journalism. Poor state of journalism today: My fault. I have a family I don't deserve, a dog that adores me, and two cars the junk yard refuses to accept. My prized possessions include my old guitar and a razor my Dad gave me when I was 14 and which I still use when I bother to shave. Oh, and my great-great-grandfather's blackthorn stick he brought from Ireland in the 1850s. I have only one opinion but it is a good one: People take too many showers.
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