I’ve studied the Renaissance in some detail when I was in college, but I’m definitely no “Renaissance man.” I know about a few things moderately well but have virtually no breadth of knowledge. And before you think I’m trying to impress you with the few things I do know, I’ll just point out that these “skills” are rather dubious. After all, I’m including wiping my arse, something I figured I should learn to do before I hit thirty. Another idiosyncratic skill I possess is the ability, or nasty habit really, of eating the chocolate around the peanut of a peanut M&M until only the peanut is left and eventually working up to a handful of peanuts. That’s what I bring to the table. If you were adrift at sea or stranded on a deserted island, if your vehicle broke down in the barren outback of western Australia or you got lost in the forest of British Columbia, I wouldn’t be the guy you want to have around.
A friend of mine can do many things well and has a base knowledge of even more things, or at least has the mind and resourcefulness to figure it out. I do not. I envy his abilities, which—let's face it—stem from a combination of genetics and experience. I am an ignoramus, know nothing about nothing, and am ill-equipped to face new challenges. Oh well. I know how to wipe my ass.
