If I Had But One

If I had but one advice for teenage me it would be, “Your elders are smarter than they talk, steadier than they walk, and more than they do.” At 15 I saw the What, but often they’re long gone, before you finally see the Why. If I had but one chance to rub a genie’s bottle I’d hope I’d have the presence of mind to channel Buzz Lightyear, wish for wishes to infinity and beyond. If I had but one chance to offer free advice people would still throw money at me, hoping it would make me speechless. If I had but one thing to brag on it’d be how seldom I talk about politics. What I don’t know about what I don’t know is not worth knowing. If I had but one chance to be brave, I’d like to be that one-guy, who went against the mob. One time I had a pit bull coming at me, big head, thick shoulders, and I had five seconds to fight or flight; instead I went down to one knee, like I wanted to play and pet him. That’s what ended up happening. I wonder how that would work with people. Dog turned out nice; people often do too. Everybody just wants the anger to go away.

A Toasty Funeral Makes People Wonder Which Direction You’re Going

If I had but one season to pick for my last, I’d surely pick Spring. Nobody wants to go in winter, summer down south is just too hot to get yourself dead in, and we don’t really have a Fall down here, so let it be Spring, but right-there-at-the-end, so I could meet angels knowing that I’d seen azaleas pass the baton to day lilies, and think I’d pulled one over on nature, by departing before we went full Louisiana, because nobody wants to go say-a-few-words over anybody when the gauge says 95. I’m sure heaven is quite the garden, but just in case, let me do earth all the way before I’m earth all the way. If I had but one last conversation, let it be eight cylinders, and all firing, witty, and sharp, no gossip and full of goodwill, with people who know that they’re talking to a mind with a motor that despises driving school zone speeds. If I had but one chance to amend the previous paragraph, let it be, a last conversation where I was the right ear for the right need, 100 words said and only 10 were mine, but they needed to expel the 90 and some of the 10 did some good.

I Want A Woman Just As Tacky As Me

If I had but one movie, I’d be in trouble. If I had but one song, I’d be in serious trouble. If I had but one book, it’d be black, with letters in three colors, black and red, like everybody else’s black book, but in mine there’d be a third color, for the words that hit me, just because I’m me. If I had but one smell, it’s bread baking, or the smell of fresh harvested rice. Or a clean house, especially if I didn’t have to clean it. If I had but one color, it’d be where blue arm wrestles green, and the winner gets the girl in white, but not too white. If I had but one joke it’d have to be a Boudreaux and Thibodeaux joke, but it’d be nice if just once they were both the smart ones, maybe pulling one over on a Bama… If I had but one chance to be in politics I’d vote against me out of sincere patriotism. If I had but one chance to suggest a practical joke in heaven I’d like them to play I Like My Women A Little On The Trashy Side just to see which deacons were tapping their wingtips to “too much lipstick, too much rouge, gets me excited, leaves me feeling confused… ”

I Ain’t Doing Salad In Heaven

If I had but one last meal, let it be red meat. You can vegan yourself to a skinny 99; I’ll take burgers and steaks and beat you to heaven a few years early. If I had but one last thing I wish would be observed about me, it’d be, ‘He’s the only him I’ll ever know.’ If I had but one last morning, I’d like to sleep until I was wide awake, and still beat the sun up. I grew up with roosters, but I’d call it a fair compromise to hear doves coo and a mockingbird, who is thinking, ‘this guy looks like he’s ripe for all-I-got’. If I had but one last sunset, let it be from home… It wasn’t postcard pretty, but it was what I got in my youth, and my heart knows the view. There were pine trees in the way, but they were the pine trees of home… If I had but one hope for heaven it would be that Jesus won’t mind, when we meet, if all I can think to say is, “I had this big speech prepared, but now…”

There’s No You Without The Dumb Stuff

If I had but one excuse for every excuse I ever needed it’d get boiled down to Because I’m Me. If I had but one dollar left of every ten that I spent on stuff that didn’t amount to a hill o’ beans I still wouldn’t be rich, but nor would I need a loan to buy a hill of beans. If I had but a thirty second warning I’d like to spend that in a good, solid hug. No words can out-truth a hug. If I had a chance to do it all over again, you’d think for sure that I’d skip the bad parts, but honest jones, I don’t know who I’d be if not for them. Good times make for fresh paint and fresh flowers, but if you want floor, ceilings, walls and roof, that only gets built in the squeeze. If I had but one chance to advise Young Me I’d just keep my mouth shut. There’s things to say, but if he took my advice then I wouldn’t be me, and I wouldn’t be here, and I’d kinda like to see how the story ends.

This edition of Uncle P’s Bedtime Stories is brought to you by Eighty-one where we hope your Ifs line up with Uncle P’s two favorite words, Grace and Hope. Uncle P’s Bedtime Stories can be found on the Eighty-one Facebook page. Uncle P can be reached at 81creativity@gmail.com.