Whoops

Dear Jozee,

A slip of wrist, a double carriage return (excuse my antiquatedness, make that a double "enter", which given the subject line that I previously wrote may appear to be a double "entendre" - no french, or pun intended) and you get a couple of mysterious blank emails from a (not so) secret admirer.

I was given this my in the hope that I would engage in a priestly vocation (perhaps you're, by this time, wishing I had) but, to the disappointment of many, I did not. And while few would consider me saintly, former lovers have, at least at times, considered me yummy! Perhaps those who chose my name were quite prescient afterall.

I chose to use the name here at Matchsticks in part because I didn't have to add a numerical appendage to it, as was so with other choices I had in mind, and also because of the romantic cache french seems to hold for females, which is why I'm here. Ooops, don't misunderstand me, I'm not in search of a harem, just one (female) will do. Based on past experience (which, I must add, to prevent any further misunderstanding to the contrary, was never more than one at a time) one is plenty! Especially if that One is of the caliber, that I intuit from your smile and your prose, that you posses.

Speaking of your prose, it, and your your continual editing and refinement of it in your profile, belies your protestation that you are, "ne pas intellectual," as you say. Do you doubt your intellectual prowess, Jozee? Is a ghost writer penning your potent prose? You needn't feel alone. Self doubts come with the spacesuit (be it male or female) that both allows us to Be on this paradisical planet and to overcome those doubts, for once and for eternity, while we're here. I have them. Your prose hit so squarely on one of mine that I've struggled with for some time, that besides provoking fruitful contemplation, moved me to allude to it in my last note, albeit covertly, in rhyme. Contemplation - a legal pyro activity if ever there was one. Yajna - sacrificial fire in the smithy of one's soul, where the dross of doubt disappears leaving the gold of goodness. There ought to be a law - not allowing such pyro activities, but insisting on them.

It's not so much intellectual brawn that I seek, which though you deny, you clearly possess; but common sense, intuition, and artistry, which you lay claim to, explicitly. Not to mention tongue in cheek existential humor and optimism.

You have my blessings if you want to throw your doubts about your intellect in your chiminea, Jozee, just make sure you don't mix any of your fine mind in with the fuel, okay?

Lucky Pete