Climb

Climb: (v) to ascend, especially by using the feet and sometimes the hands

Everyone understands the choice but no one discusses it. It is an unspoken piece of information that is decided in the internal workings of every human being.

You have to find out if you would like to go to a gym and sweat four times a week so that when you climb a flight of stairs, you won’t sweat.

There you go. I don’t know why nobody talks about it.

People working out in the gym are not thinking about how they’ll feel when they’re sixty-five or seventy years old. They just want to make sure that if they’re on a date and there’s a half-mile walk to the auditorium, or a two-hour wait standing in line at the restaurant, or four flights of stairs to ascend to reach the destination, that they will be able to do it without looking like they’re flirting with death.

Also, nobody wants to be the one panting the loudest in the bedroom after sex. If you’re a man and it sounds like you’re going to have a heart attack because you made love to your woman, it may just discourage her from trying again.

It is our vanity that presses us on to bench-press.

And for those who think to themselves, what do I care if it takes forty-two seconds for me to recover my breath after climbing a flight of stairs?–well, you will never catch those individuals stomping, dancing or doing a Pilate.

Do people live longer because they are aerobically able to climb without much difficulty? There’s no evidence for that. They just look prettier and healthier doing it.

Don’t get me wrong. There’s much to be said for reaching the top of a mountain with your clothes undrenched.

But unless it is a major concern, or you’re just bound and determined to convey that your tight pecs, flat abs and muscular legs make you more sexy, I think you will probably join the ranks of those who file away from the gymnasium.

 

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Chutzpah

Chutzpah: (n) shameless audacity; impudence.

One man’s impudence is another man’s courage.

I’m sure the bus driver thought Rosa Parks was very impudent when she refused to move to the back of the bus during the civil rights
conflict in Alabama.

Many of my teachers thought I was impudent when I questioned practices I felt were faulty, but were still part of the “scholastic logic.”

We live in a generation where your cause is meaningless to me and my cause is sanctioned by the will of God.

Yet I would never use the word “chutzpah.” It’s not because I’m anti-Semetic (which most people under the age of twenty would define as having something against cement.)

It’s just that I find the introduction of impudence, strife or vanity only complicate my possibilities instead of enhancing them. We are a race that promotes self-esteem while greatly enamored with humility.

I realize it is possible to be too humble, but it’s a risk each one of us should take.

Because when two impudent people stand on the field of play, hurling insults at one another, boasting of their prowess, the whistle does eventually blow, beginning the game. At that point, it becomes obvious who is better trained, who has a more ingenious plan and who will endure.

One great gift you can give to yourself is to shut up, impart your gift, and see how it rates amidst the cascading efforts of others.

 

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Chef

Chef: (n) professional cook

“Vanity, vanity, kitchen is thy name.”

You may note that I have altered the adage.

It does not matter if it’s a man or woman–if you start talking about cooking, the reaction falls into two categories:

  1. “I don’t cook, I will never cook, I will not touch a pan. Serve me.”
  2. “I’m such a good cook, people think I should start my own restaurant.”

Folks get very nasty about their ability to stir sugar in with spice to make something nice. They’re convinced they have the best recipe for any delicacy.

This is confirmed by dozens of shows on television, with chefs competing with one another for the honor of being chief cook and bottle washer.

What is it about the human race that causes us to believe that we have a passable ability to serve a meal instead of the overwrought notion that our platter of “pleasables” should be offered to wine and dine kings?

Do you really have the best barbecue sauce in the country?

Is the secret to a great turkey to deep fry it?

Are green beans better with almonds?

Does the extra thirty seconds of whipping the egg whites truly make a better meringue?

Is hot sauce the universal elixir for “delish?”

Even if we can convince all the brothers and sisters of Earth that we are alike, equal and that no one is better than anyone else, after that meeting is over, there will be someone who will insist they should cook the victory meal–because they’re a better chef.

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Burden

j-r-practix-with-border-2

Burden: (n) a load, especially a heavy one.

Being able to define what a burden truly is may be a step toward maturity and a leap in humanity.

We are quick to complain of simple cumbersome circumstances. They are often temporary but we still lodge our formal objection.

Sometimes I don’t understand myself. I am fully aware that the universe does not favor me, yet somehow I anticipate front row seats, flowers at the backstage door and standing ovations for simple tasks.

Vanity is not merely propping up our better features. Vanity is when we believe our features should be sufficient without propping.

What is a burden? Because once we define it, then we certainly know, in the realm of the spirit, our mission is to make it as light as possible.

The burden should be light.

But until we conclude what burdens us, we are apt to invent new definitions for the condition based upon the color of our mood.

For instance, watching the grandchildren one week may be a treasure, but on the following Tuesday may seem to be a burden.

There are times that shopping for a new pair of shoes has the sniff of adventure, and on other occasions, just stinks.

We keep moving the poles, changing the dimensions and re-negotiating our grouchiness.

The true definition of a burden is something which is unexpected but proven to be necessary and therefore needs to be taken in stride as much as possible–so we don’t lose our good cheer.

Yet if we stubbornly insist that life should never sneak up on us, we will constantly be jumping out of our skin at the slightest inkling of evolution.

 

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Bermuda Shorts

Bermuda shorts: (n) casual knee-length short trousers.

Dictionary B

For the sake of lingering pieces of vanity, I would like to say that I am completely unfamiliar with Bermuda shorts, but unfortunately, I was around when they hit the shores from Bermuda, and shortly thereafter, basically disappeared.

Let me tell you something about fashion: fashion is the latest trend available to those who basically look good in anything.

If you have a bulge here and there, misshapen space or a cluttered cloister, you are very unlikely to ever be comfortable or attractive in the latest threads.

Such it was with Bermuda shorts.

They were knee-length, usually had some sort of odd print on them, and they left the rest of your leg exposed.

When I tried them on, it appeared that some sausage had seeped out of the bottom of its casing.

Not to mention the fact that no matter how tall you may be, when you are chubby you appear shorter. Bermuda shorts helped to accentuate this dwarfism.

I didn’t wear them a second time.

Matter of fact, I might have been one of the souls instrumental … in mocking them off the fashion runway.

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Antiperspirant

dictionary with letter A

Antiperspirant: (n) a substance applied to the skin, especially under the arms, to reduce or prevent perspiration.

“Vanity, vanity, all is vanity.”

Of course, if I were editing that statement, I would probably change it to, “Vanity, vanity–gosh-darn, so much is vanity.”

That’s because I’ve been raised, live and function in a very safe era, in which the selection of our thoughts and deeds is so scrutinized that no one really says or accomplishes much.

My exact sentiments on antiperspirant.

Just like the next guy–or most of them–I don’t like to stink. There are levels of odor which come from the human body which are acceptable, but they must fall in the range between putrid and floral. Finding that balance has created great concern and consternation among the masses, and also profit margin for those who amass a fortune playing off of the insecurity.

And even though we’ve been warned from our youth not to “sweat the small stuff,” when we remove all sweat from the human experience, we overheat and possibly explode.

Yes, sweat is how we cool off.

A dog does it by panting. (I am personally grateful that our Creator passed on that for us. If you don’t mind, I will save my panting for the top of that second flight of stairs.)

Instead, we expel water and salt, which mingles with bacteria on our skin to form a concoction which can smell anywhere from “wet towel” to “skunk.”

But if you remove that process from our biology, we suffer. It is the only method the human has for cooling down the old engine before we blow the radiator cap.

So it is possible to let my armpits sweat just enough that my fleshly unit doesn’t dribble the moisture down my legs, while also requesting that this mini-geyser of fluid remain semi-fragrant, without ending up completely against perspiration.

Yes, I think the antiperspirant is a parable of our times.

We want to perspire.

We just refuse to sweat.

 

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