I don't want to be Paul Newman

We were watching "Cat on a hot tin roof" at the bar, starring Liz Taylor and divine Paul Newman. Dave Johnson asked me all of a sudden: "If you had a choice to be someone else, who would you want to be?" "How much time do I have?" - I asked, knowing that this one is not going to be an easy one. "As much as you want" - said Dave, then returned to the movie and another of his "final cocktails". As I was washing the glasses and putting them away, I started to think. Mother Theresa? Great human being, selfless, helpful - a saint. But she only lived for others - I couldn't, or else I would become bitter. Leszek Kolakowski? Great philosopher, huge mind, exceptional personality, yet humble, very warm and simple at the same time. Nah - even though the million dollars he recently received from the Library of Congress made me think twice - not him, either; He's a bit too old, I like being 30. I also considered John Paul II, then checked negative remebering the obligatory celibate. Albert Einstein? Let's see - a genius, very good sense of humor I heard, little bit odd, but still very down-to earth for a genius. Yes, that's a close call. I was just about to open my mouth with the answer, when I changed my mind and, trying to buy some more time, asked Dave: "You? Who would you want to be?". "Him - he said, pointing at the screen as Paul was getting drunk even though Liz begged him not to - I want to be Paul Newman, always wanted. Look at him: he was gorgeous, talented, had beautiful blue eyes, everybody loved him then. When he got older, people still loved him, and his eyes didn't bleach. He's 80, has more hair on his head now than I had two years ago, and is married to the same woman for 47 years. Now he's making pasta sauces, good ones at that, sells them all over, and gives all the profits to charity. He's the perfect man: has got looks, sense of humor, brains, and heart. I have only brains and slight sense of humor. That's it - I want to be Paul Newman."

Listening to him, I agreed. Paul is the perfect man. And then it dawned on me: why would I want to be a perfect man? Why would I want to be a man in the first place? And who wants to be perfect? Perfect is boring. I like my own laziness, my "don't wannas", my moodiness, my lack of perseverance and my stupid rebellions, I even like my own problems. I cry a lot, laugh a lot more, can't sleep at night, have been down and broke, have been successful. It's a shitty life I have at times, and a beautiful one at the same time (just have to flip the coin). Yes, I had my heart broken, not once, not twice, but it's still beating, and is beating super fast lately, thanks to a certain Him (thank you, my heart, for your inexhaustible healings). So If I had a different life, I would not meet my friends, I would have different parents (for what? Mine are a pain in the ass, but I love them anyway), wouldn't be in New York, wouldn't have known and loved Warsaw. No. I don't want to be Paul Newman. My humble me is enough for me.