One of my favorite writers, Garrison Keillor, wrote about the same thing. I am sort of astounded and appalled to admit that I have favorite authors. Not that I am ashamed to be associated with Garrison Keillor or the works he has produced, but I just never would have imagined that I would be able to sit down and pick out a favorite. I guess I never realized that I became an adult, or I just suddenly am not as close to being a kid as I used to be, because it was always adults who had favorite authors, prententious adults at that, but I can't deny it. I hope that I am not pretentious but I have to admit that I have favorite authors. And Garrison Keillor is one of them. And he once wrote the greatest story ever. Didn't you know that? Oh yeah. He relates the tale of the greatest story ever written in his book Leaving Home of how he wrote the story, and was so excited about it that he wanted to finish it on the train on the way to a vacation to the Pacific Northwest but then he promptly left the story, along with the rest of his briefcase, in a public restroom in the Portland bus station. After searching high and low, retracing his steps and the whole nine yards, he finally gave up and continued on his way with his vacation. But that story tainted his whole experience. He attempted to recreate the story on some index cards but it never came back, just fleeting, disjointed glances that never seemed to make sense. And he was haunted by that story. It poked its head out from behind the crevices of his mind time and time again but never showed itself fully. And that's how it has been with me.
I haven't been able to reconstruct even a tiny portion of the greatest post ever written. Eh, the greatest post never written. That would probably be more appropriate. And it most likely never will be written, because, true to form, the harder I search for that lost piece of greatness the father away it is. I understand this. It's like when you are trying SO HARD to think of the name of that movie that Alyssa Milano gets all naked and dirty in to you can talk to your buddy about how awesome it was but the more you think about it, the harder you throw yourself at it, and more you scrunch your brow, the more elusive it becomes. Yeah, that's what it's like with the greatest post never written. The more I look for it the farther away it is. And the worst part? It tricks me. I can see little bits of it flash past the back of my eyes every once in a while, which makes me think that I can jump in there and wrestle it out, but then I get into the hard thinking and I get nowhere. I also tried the opposite tactic, just forgetting about it and trying to move on, but that didn't work either. It won't let me. It just keeps taunting me at every turn.
So I apologize to you, Company. You deserve the best post ever written, you really do. And please believe me, I really wanted to be the one to bring it to you. But unfortunately it's gone. My desktop (and not, I don't have a real desktop, I am talking about the one on the Chester A. Arthur Memorial Apple G4 Laptop, it littered with notes about post ideas I have had. Most of them are terrible. Yet when the greatest post in the history of posts comes to me I neglect to write it down and now it's gone and is probably being dry-humped into submission somewhere on a blog that you will never read. The thought shames me. I guess that I will have to come up with something better than that could ever have been. How does that sound?