And this time, let's talk about the pear.
The pear... is amazing. On the best day, the pear will knock your socks clear off. On a mediocre day, the pear is a great-tasting fruit. You want to know what I love about the pear? You buy a bag of pears, throw them in the drawer, and if they're not Bruises-if-you-breathe-on-them Bartletts, they last and last. Man, do they last! I would venture to say that a common pear mistake people make is enjoying a pear prematurely, before the pear has reached its full state of glory. But, like I said, a mediocre pear is still good.
Here's the thing about pears. And maybe this says more about the picking and selling and distributing of fruit. But here's the thing, a word of wisdom about pears. An ode, if you will, in the shape of a pear:
The pear, it lieth there
It lies and lies and waits there
And after you've long forgotten it
And the moment you've rediscovered it
Is the moment it's finally reached
its peak of perfect ripedness.
You never knew
What your pear could be.
Until you let it be.
Just let it be.
1. Ok, I swear to you I wrote the ode and then centered it and saw that it was pear-shaped! Isn't that amazing? It was meant to be. The only thing I added was the very last line which is a nice touch, I thought.
2. And guess what? ripedness isn't a word!! I know, isn't that ridiculous? Ridiculous that i thought there was a d in there. But there's something in my body that repels the correct spelling. R-i-p-e-n-e-s-s. It just feels wrong. I love that d, I want that d. Riped definitely isn't a word, you sound like an idiot if you say it. Yet I still can't turn my back on my insides that tell me I want that d. So I'm claiming it. In my ode. My ode to the pear. So there.