A couple of weeks ago I told my team that it was my resolution to be more plodding -- not thoughtful or careful or exact or any of those words of 'precision'. And not devious or conniving or Iago-esque or those words of a 'plot behind your back' nature.
No-no, just more plodding.
But now that I think of it, I'd rather be known as this...
The Prince Regent of Pithiness.
No-no-no, not moaning, complaining, whining or general 'pissiness'.
PITHY as in straight to the point, brief, succinct, not needing three or more attempts at a definition or explanation in order to clarify a point.
But not so arrogant to claim the title of King, Emperor, Heir Apparent or Supreme Ruling Dictator for All Life Eternal.
Oh how I would so like this to be my title...
THE PRINCE REGENT OF PITHINESS.
People would smile and nod in my direction as I walked by. They would offer shy, funny grins of amusement and acknowledgment as we crossed paths, and occasionally I'd stop to tell them a quick story...
Such as the time when my son was 10 years old and we were on holidays and he was asked by a Mexican dressed up as a native warrior if he'd like a picture of a snake around his neck and my son agreed and he then had a huge thick scary snake placed around his neck and I took the photo because I thought it was the man's pet and the snake hissed and I thought "Wow, it's cool how the guy must have de-fanged his snaked because otherwise it would be scary" cuz it was one huge snake and the man lifted the snake off from around my son's neck and he set the snake down and it slithered away towards the jungle and I then realized that the snake was way too big to have fit in the guy's backpack and holy shit that wasn't his pet and I just let this guy put a wild huge thick scary snake around my son's neck!
... and we'd laugh at the quick story and the man on the street would wave and I'd wave and we'd walk off in different directions, both of us feeling enriched by the encounter.
If I was the Prince Regent of Pithiness.
Oh how that would rock my little world.
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