Thursday, April 8, 2010
My secret fantasy
I don't spend a lot of time imagining. I'm not a very imaginative person, have little to no appreciation for fantasy novels or sci-fi or strange hidden worlds with small people who may or may not be winged... I don't even play the lottery. Never have.
And yet, every now and then, my mind steals away to a little dream of mine. The dream used to come to me each time I was planning a move in my old, single days (I used to move quite a lot—apparently I tire easily of living arrangements). Nowadays, this dream usually occurs when I've found a bulky piece of furniture I want from a craigslist seller or in the IKEA as-is room. The happy dream may come to me when I'm yearning to rearrange the living room yet again, and I'm weary of dragging heavy, unyielding items across the floor. It creeps into my mind when I'm eying large yard ornaments or second-hand swingsets for my boy.
What's the dream, you ask? Why, that I'm a big, burly, not necessarily intelligent man with much strength.
A strange fantasy, you think? Well, think of it this way: I despise dependence. I try and try to be independent, self-sufficient, a strong and capable independently functioning unit. And then, I am stopped short by a base need for brutish abilities. Some task arises that I am simply inadequate to perform. I need to lift great weights, or unscrew a screw that's been put in place years ago by a much stronger person. Perhaps I just need to work on something up high, and I realize that the step stool will not even nearly suffice for my measly vertical stretch.
It's a frustrating life for a short, weak person with the agenda of a hulk.
I imagine not only the joys of being able to lift that bale and tote that load, but also the sheer glee of being able to touch ceilings and door-frames without assistance. What heady delight one must feel while hoisting something huge or loosening a tightly turned bolt. How invigorating and empowering it must be to do that sort of thing for oneself, without a single sniveling request, manipulation, or trade-off. Oh, to be the one to whom others must humble themselves when the job requires big and powerful; to be the begged, instead of the begger.
Not to mention the absolute rush I'd get just standing in a crowd and overseeing the tops of heads instead of the less-than-glamorous views of chins and nostrils.
I don't think I'd really need too much in the brains department. Incredible bulk is sort of like beauty, I believe—in the end, when technology fails, it'll be the large, strong men and beautiful women who remain. Unless nuclear clouds erupt and reduce us all to cockroach treats, those two groups will always prosper, because they will always be revered and honored.
The small, feeble idea people? Not a lot of reverence or honor coming our way. Ever. Not that I'm bitter.