Wrinkly Bits
A Blog by Gail Cushman
In the past few months, I’ve noticed that the word “perfect” has become a buzz word among those who work with the public no matter if it is in a restaurant, a doctor’s office, or post office. For example, I took a package into a post office for mailing, and handed it to the clerk. “Perfect,” she said. Perfect? Was the package perfect or did I hand it off to her perfectly. Is there a perfect or imperfect way to hand off a package or letter to the post office clerk? I’d like to know, so that I can adjust my level of perfection, I mean should I pass it gently or go in for a Joe Namath pass? Or play kick the can with it? What would an imperfect hand-off look like?
Another example, I signed a “Permission to see the doctor” form and when I finished, the admin assistant said, “Perfect” which came out more like, “Purrrr-fec,” with an accent on the “fec,” without the “t” sound. The last time I checked, the accent was on the first syllable. There you go again, Gail, thinking like an English teacher. The same day, the waiter at the local restaurant said, “Perfect,” when I ordered a hamburger with fries. If I had ordered a hamburger without fries or fries without a hamburger, would it also be perfect? Or is perfect limited to hamburgers with fries? Is there some order to what is “perfect.” If there is, I am doing so much perfectly, and my mother would be proud.
I remember the movie “The Perfect Storm,” a true story about a storm when all the bad weather came together in one violent moment, sinking the boat, the Andrea Gail, off the coast of Eastern Canada. Everything meteorologic including waves, wind, water, lightening, and a sail worthy, but not storm worthy boat collide, taking six fishermen to their death. Perfect storm, but not a perfect ending for the fishermen and their families.
The true definition of perfect is “as good as it can possibly to be,” so can an order of a hamburger with fries be perfect, as good as they could possibly be? Although a burger and fries often hit the spot, I don’t see them as perfect. On the other hand, prime rib, medium rare (cooked correctly) comes close to as good as it can possibly be, and Edgar’s Bar may rate a perfect standing in their meat menu, but I just don’t see a normal fast-food burger and fries as perfect. Some are better than others.
There are a lot of words that can replace the word perfect, and perhaps after people read my blog, they will look to a new vocabulary word: excellent, superb, great, wonderful choice, and comin’ right up. Perfect? I doubt it.
I asked the Cowboy to tell me something that was perfect and he quickly answered back, “the Leatherman multi-tool.” It seems to be the perfect tool, ready and waiting for almost anything. I am not sure how it could be improved, although putting a wine bottle opener might help. The Cowboy added with a boyish grin, “Prada Perfume, that’s perfect, you should wear it more often.” I’ll think about that.
I understand baseball’s “perfect game”, a perfect season for football, and a perfect choice. There are lots of opportunities to use the word perfect in our society, just not as often as it’s used. The words perfect crime, perfect timing, perfect example, and perfect fit all seem logical, but perfect stranger, what would that be and what about an imperfect stranger. And a perfect world? Hardly.
You see what I’m saying, it’s an overused term. But right now, it’s a perfect time to end this perfectly inane story.
Gail Cushman is a novelist and blog writer who lives in Columbus, Montana. Check out her website at gailcushman.com
Gail Cushman, Author
