Dirk Benedict came over on Sunday, mid-afternoon. He didn’t take haste in coming, for our time together is leisurely. In answering his knock, I opened the door to find that dashing man upon my verandah. Standing tall and full of life, he sent vibrations near and far.
With bloody maries already at hand I invited him to sit. Oh did we wile away the time, sipping at our cocktails; discussing Aristophanes and macroeconomics. Dirk Benedict, I say, is a masterful economist. with command of theory, practical experience and a rapacious imagination. Later we happily switched to sangria.
I gently bade him enter now, for a fine repast I had awaiting. His eyes were twinkling as he dug right in. His mane is cherubic when he’s eating rye toast and fried ham, and almost laughing at his eggs benedict. Dirk Benedict enjoys that jape, no matter how many times it’s done.
The second-most exciting part of the day was the two hours we spent conducting laboratory experiments and litmi tests on diverse substances. We found the pH of meringue and also of toad secretions. Then we cobbled together from spare parts about the manor a function able Sterling Engine. It hummed and along with it did Dirk Benedict hum, that man who takes pride in his work.
Walking out into the orchard, we strolled between the apricot blossoms. His laugh is strong and hearty, coming from the shadow of his baseball cap. What elegance he displayed in discussing grafting! How often he could point to a sapling and expound upon its possibilities!
The most wondrous Dirk Benedict moment of the day was the minutes spent at my baby grand piano. Dirk Benedict displayed his talents, with Für Elise and The Moonlight Sonata. For that last he did not need an orchestra! His tenor timbre filled in all the accompanying symphonic parts with soft “das” and powerful “dums” and a “tinkle, tinkle, tinkle” of the string section. One could imagine Beethoven doing much the same thing, as both men, so similar in stature. His favorite part is when I sit at the stool to tickle the ivories while his wonderful pipes belt out such old favorites as “Rock of Ages” and “Nearer My God to Thee.”
The man does love a fine cigar, we shared Petróns on the verandah again and sipped armagnac in our chairs. Dirk Benedict opened my eyes to whole new worlds through theoretical physics. I had no idea! The worlds and universes, time and space, that brain of his ran on and on. He is a wistful man indeed, with eyes like spectacles.
Finally, though, Dirk Benedict had to leave and so I gave goodbye in joyful melancholy. From the fine, fine brunch, to the orchard stroll, we’d had a loving time together. Hoping hopes he returns quite soon, to share my humble manse with me. This is why I always say, Dirk Benedict is cool.