Tuesday, November 22, 2011

MASLOW'S HIERARCHY

One of the other pipe-smokers remarked that I could stand to gain some weight.
Politely, I disagreed. I've got pants that fit, and I like my clothes slightly baggy.
But that got me thinking of Maslow's hierarchy of needs, and I realized that some of my personal hierarchy isn't being met.
I blame the world. You guys just aren't working hard enough.


SAVAGE NEEDS

All I really want is a nice comfy armchair, with a small table next to it.
On which there is an ashtray, and a tin of tobacco.
In a room filled with books.
With another armchair nearby.
Holding a small cute brilliant person, reading.

Ideally, there should also be a large supply of good pipe tobacco (and cigars, if she likes a Corona or a Churchill once in a while), plus a large pot of coffee or tea, and privacy in case naughty behaviour were to transpire. That would be nice. The naughty behaviour, that is. The other stuff is also nice, but not quite the same.
Still, I would like all of it.

Oh, plus fresh scones, clotted cream, and fruit preserves, and a long rainy summer twilight. But that hardly qualifies as a need.
A dark November evening, with leaves scudding about outside and a raccoon down in the utility area breaking into the garbage cans would also do very nicely. Perhaps with a cable car full of cold tourists lumbering past the house.
We will make scones, having acquired the preserves and clotted cream already (or substituting butter), and pretend that it's a pleasant summer day.
Might have to cuddle together under a nice warm rug against the cold, but with enough tea and scones, ANYTHING is possible.


Don't have the comfy armchair.
Do have the small table, plus the ashtray, and the tin of pipe tobacco.
I actually possess several hundred tins of pipe tobacco. So the large supply of good pipe tobacco has been taken care of. Abundantly so.
And I also have the books. Lots of them. Haven't succeeded in catching up on my reading in years. Working on that might cut into the time slated for naughty behaviour, except that there isn't any of that.
Nor a second armchair.

See, the key to all of this is the small cute brilliant person.
Without such, many things just won't happen.
No scones, no clotted cream.

I absolutely have to find the small cute brilliant person. Everything else will naturally fall into place once that has been accomplished. I'll acquire cigars if she needs them, and I know how to make a pot of tea.
Abraham Maslow has nothing on me.
He probably wasn't a pipe smoker.
Maybe he didn't drink tea either.


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