The Perfect Life by John Koethe

Youth. Comes hand in hand with happiness, childhood, grandmas who give you their change to spend in the little candy shop just around the block, fighting sleep to FINALLY catch a glimpse Santa, just to find the Oreo´s you left missing…

These are some stereotyped memories, and now you realize, how you probably had this label of infancy. Doesn’t time pass to lunge those dreadful issues at you? So unexpected while you are submerged in this “joyous” phase of your life. “But Mom, EVERYBODY´s going!” Doesn’t it ring a bell? My heads pounding from its clang because lately being young has been a pain in the buttocks.

Aging isn’t all “fun and parties”. Or getting accepted in an Ivy League university and marrying prince charming. That’s what I used to anticipate, but it’s more than that. Nevertheless that’s all we have to think about, we don’t worry about wrinkles and cellulite. Not yet.

The aging makes people so insecure, they under come various procedures just to grab onto their youthful appearance a little more. This world is just too full of vanity, people just don’t realize. Nowadays, people are so shallow, trying to obtain these clichéd however impossible to reach perfect noses/legs/abs/hair/bums/teeth/breasts… and yet the list goes on and on. People are no longer satisfied with themselves, in a world where media urges you to meet these impossible standards, how could anyone? And getting old? Many people´s worst fear! We have these enormous stores with endless (and useless) products to improve ANYTHING you dislike. I mean it when I say anything.

"Where is she getting at?" I wrote this "psalm" on vanity and aging because as far-fetched as it seems, it does relate to the poem. The character in it used to be so happy, considered his life complete, so perfect. She (assuming the narrator´s female) felt she had such level of satisfaction with life, until the realization that time was passing hit her. She became disgusted just like others will when they find themselves under an endless rain of deceptionbecause they refused to accept one of the few things that are certain in life, aging.

Why are people so afraid of becoming old? The elderly used to be respected, aging was simply embraced, it came with wisdom and power. Now, the aged are alone, afraid to be sent to a geriatric. In the poem, loneliness, sickness, and being forgotten is clearly one of the narrator´s fears. These haunt me too. Having children, raising them to get married and leave you forgotten… who would do that to the two people who have cared more for you than for themselves? But it’s happening. Everywhere, all around you. However, nobody realizes, and we just let it go like any other painful memory that is useless and aching to keep. 

“But the human dies and what I take for granted bears a name to be forgotten soon, as the things I know turn into unfamiliar faces.”

Yet, the narrator looks back with deception, seems to have learned from a mistake in the past, most probably a lie and so it seems aging still comes with wisdom. Regretful thoughts flood the poem, (“The fake security of someone in the grip of a delusion”), thus something is missing in her life. The positivity with which the story is introduced is slowly fading away. Other than alone, dying, forgetful and old, the character seems to be handicapped. These deductions can be confirmed with the following excerpts from the text;
- “What feels ample now turns colorless and cold.”

- “As the things I know turn into unfamiliar faces”

- “In a strange room, leaving merely a blank space”

- “Of a perfect life, with closes over”
After reading the poem various times, it doesn’t seem as cheerful as it first did. The poem´s title seems ironic, as the narrator´s life no longer deems perfection, but seems nostalgic instead. Zoethe delivers a person’s life in a few stanzas. These may be projections of his life, without much detail but instead feeling and depth of ideas and thoughts, so intimate they lead me to assume they aren’t his to share, but a friend´s, or even a fictional character´s.