It is a band.  It is a user name on Twitter.  It is not in the Scrabble Dictionary.  That I know and share these three facts is testament to my patheticism.

[Apologies to Lacey.  She is sometimes uncomfortable when I “put myself down.”  She knows me better than anyone, but still may not fully appreciate how deeply into my DNA self deprecation has been wired.  It is a reflex.  A useful reflex.   A few carefully placed remarks about my low energy lifestyle go a long way toward  lowering the bar so that I may, from time to time, if the mood strikes, more gracefully shuffle over it.  What was that?  A bar or an expansion joint?  No matter, I am over it and lived to tweet the tale.] [Aside, I’d share with you the origins of the word testament but I learn from the mistakes of others.  I once knew a summer associate at a certain midwestern law firm who did the same in an email to the entire firm.  This at a time when email was new and few popped up on your screen.  The story he shared featured balls that most frequently come in pairs.  He thought it would be funny.  It was, but not in the way he thought.  He didn’t get an offer to join the firm.  Probably a mistake, but who am I?]

Back to patheticism.  Examples?  Have you read any post on this blog?  Seriously.  Pick any one.  I do things like clean bicycles, cook food and walk our dog.  All blog worthy after a day like today when I (a) cut Frida’s walk short because of light rain, (b) made for the fourth time the same granola recipe–but this time added CINNAMON that I bought already ground and know not its origin (Ta-Dah!), (c) gathered a collection of 11mm wrenches (combo box/open end, socket driver and ratchet) to loan to a friend suffering from a complete lack of 11mm wrenches and (d) moved so little Siri asked if I was ok.

What’s up with this post?  Or at least why now?  I’ll blame it on the weather.  It is changing here.  Looks like I am between the high output summer time, filled with lawn care, gardens care, bicycling to get groceries and general getting out and about often, and the great darkness that is winter.  It sucks.  What sucks worse than winter?  Waiting for it!  Until winter arrives there is no snow to shovel.  See, shoveling will be my principal form of exercise in the coming months.  I like it, but until the snow arrives I should take out the rollers and consider doing a few burpees.  AAHHKK!  The thought of it!  Exercise for exercise sake!  How does Lacey do it?  Three times a week she disappears into the basement for an hour or more of intense aerobic exercise.  That or a run.  I am so impressed.  Dearest Lacey, what is your secret?  She invites me to join her most every time.  My answer is always the same.  Thanks, but no.  When will I learn?  When will she stop asking?  Please, oh please, do not stop asking!

Athleticism and dynamism are words.  Oh sure.  Everyone wants to talk about high energy states of being (Donald! Trump!) so of course these words were added to the dictionary long ago, but maybe it is time to talk about those times, or even years, when you are simply not feeling it.  I say the time for patheticism has arrived.  Period, no exclamation point.  I hope the band and tweeter will forgive me for jumping, ahem, I mean schlumping, aboard their wagon.

I wonder how many of the words/ideas I just wrote are to be found in the greatest of all books the name of which shall not be spoken?  I read it so long ago.  I still have it.  I should probably reread it.  Concepts therefrom pop into my head most every day.  Might be due to the stamp I had made in college that to this day I place on all important correspondence.jrbd

P.S.  Omnivore food writers should stop sharing rationalizations for eating animals.  That they know they are undertaking an indelicate ethical dance highlights the fact that what they are doing, and promoting, is wrong.  Besides, vegan gravy is the new bacon so you are cordially invited to leave the pigs be.


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