Perfect Days

Just a perfect day
You make me forget myself
I thought I was someone else
Someone good

Oh it’s such a perfect day
I’m glad I spend it with you
Oh such a perfect day
You just keep me hanging on
You just keep me hanging on

Perfect Day – Lou Reed

The other night I was watching the Travel Channel and caught a program about life in Southern Italy. The people got up early, worked very hard, and then in the early afternoon, had a feast and a lot of wine for lunch. Then a little nap and back to finish up a little work before a light supper and more wine. The host of the show asked how often they do that, and the answer made it pretty clear that it is a way of life.

It seems to me that a lot of older cultures are like that. Life is hard and there is work to be done, but every day is to be celebrated, too. It makes me think that we have it all wrong here in America. We work our lives away for material possessions and hope for a perfect day now and then when the company allows us some time for ourselves.

Maybe every day should be perfect, or at least have an element of perfection to it. When food, wine, friends and family are all it takes to make it happen, why does it seem so hard for us to attain?