February 13: A Theme, Happiness, "The Happiest Person in North America"

These evening, I am going to stick with a theme:  happiness.  Not going to venture into anything dark.  It has been a very good day for me.

So, Saint Marty has a poem he wrote a while ago about a happy man . . .

The Happiest Person In America

by:  Martin Achatz

According to a Gallup poll,

The happiest person in America

Is tall, not Jimmy Stewart tall,

But not Tom Cruise short. He

(Of course a man, women need

Not apply) is Asian-American,

To insure aptitude for math,

Science, I suppose.  He must

Be an observant Jew, Christians

Tending to be too Republican,

Therefore humorless, Muslims

Raising eyebrow threat levels

On airplanes too much to allow

For vacations in Europe, Fiji,

Greece.  No, a Jew, enlightened

Enough to appreciate the writing

Of E. L. Doctorow, but strict

Enough to take Yom Kippur off work.

He should be 65 years of age

At least, ready to collect

Social Security for a few years

Before the money runs out.

Married with children.

His wife should be up

For kosher late night dinners,

Skinny-dips, Tony Bennett songs.

His children, graduates of Brown,

UCLA, make trips home for

Radish and salt at Passover.

He lives in Hawaii, snorkels

Coral reefs in Huaname Bay,

Stops at roadside fruit stands

To buy fresh-cut pineapple.

He has his own business, something

Non-stressful like surf blogger,

Hot air balloon captain, pastry chef,

Earns more than $120,000 a year,

Not enough to attract the attention

Of relatives, but enough to pay

For botox, liposuction, Kindles.

This man is happiest.  Satisfied.

Wakes at dawn to sit lotus,

Watch the Pacific surf, kiss

His wife of forty years before

She goes for her morning jog.

Statistic perfection, as unattainable

As Liz Taylor’s violet eyes,

As peace between Israel, Palestine,

As John Lennon’s no Heaven, no Hell,

One Gallup world, living as one.