In Lake Wobegon, you learned about being All Right. Life is complicated, so think small. You can't live life in raging torrents, you have to take it one day at a
time, and if you need drama, read Dickens. My dad said, "You can't plant corn and date women at the same time. It doesn't work." One thing at a time. The lust
for world domination does not make for the good life. It's the life of the raccoon, a swashbuckling animal who goes screaming into battle one spring night,
races around, wins a mate, carries on a heroic raccoon career, only to be driven from your creekbed the next spring by a young stud who leaves teethmarks in
your butt and takes away your girlfriend, and you lie wounded and weeping in the ditch. Later that night, you crawl out of the sumac and hurl yourself into the
path of oncoming headlights. Your gruesome carcass lies on the hot asphalt to be picked at by crows. Nobody misses you much. Your babies grow up and do
the same thing. Nothing is learned. This is a life for bank robbers. It is not a life for sensible people.
The urge to be top dog is a bad urge. Inevitable tragedy. A sensible person seeks to be at peace, to read books, know the neighbors, take walks, enjoy his
portion, live to be eighty, and wind up fat and happy, although a little wistful when the first coronary walks up and slugs him in the chest. Nobody is meant to
be a star. Charisma is pure fiction, and so is brilliance. It's the dummies who sit on the dais, and it's the smart people who sit in the dark near the exits. That is
the Lake Wobegon view of life.
- Garrison Keillor
