I wrote the note to you all on New Year's Day, but am only posting it now. I revised it a little, but the reason for my hesitancy was fear. What if I failed at this project? And why post anything at all? Why not just undertake BACA privately? But then I realized that posting here might, at least in the beginning, offer real motivation, if for no other reason than fear of humiliation. So here goes.
Hi everybody,
Happy New Year!
Instead of writing an article off-line tonight and then posting it here--I have several pieces in the works--I thought I'd come on and write you a note.
First, thank all of you so much for taking the time to read this blog. Though many of these articles have appeared in various online outlets, magazines, and newspapers, to post them here always gives me great pleasure. I hope you have enjoyed reading them as much as I have enjoyed writing them.
As some of you know, last year I made a New Year's resolution that--for once!--I actually kept. During the past twelve months, I read Will and Ariel Durant's The Story Of Civilization, all 8,945 pages, excluding all the endnotes.
Hi everybody,
Happy New Year!
Instead of writing an article off-line tonight and then posting it here--I have several pieces in the works--I thought I'd come on and write you a note.
First, thank all of you so much for taking the time to read this blog. Though many of these articles have appeared in various online outlets, magazines, and newspapers, to post them here always gives me great pleasure. I hope you have enjoyed reading them as much as I have enjoyed writing them.
As some of you know, last year I made a New Year's resolution that--for once!--I actually kept. During the past twelve months, I read Will and Ariel Durant's The Story Of Civilization, all 8,945 pages, excluding all the endnotes.
I'd like to write one more article about that undertaking, but that can wait.
So with 2019 now upon us, I wondered what to tackle this year. I considered a year of reading Shakespeare, or Ancient Greek literature, or various Noble Prize authors unfamiliar to me. I thought of reading poetry every day for a year, or the Bible (I've read lots of it and taught various books and passages in my literature classes, but never read the entire Old Testament). Back and forth the ideas flew.
Then I realized that maybe I don't need a reading project. I mean, I love books; I write on average a book review for papers and magazines every week; I visit the library three or four times a week, mostly to work but also to browse the shelves. Did I really need more reading?
Probably not.
But if not literature, then what?
A dozen projects flickered through my imagination. I could improve my Latin or French. I could read art books, visit galleries both locally and in Washington, D.C., and make this my year of studying great artists. I could chip away at my vast ignorance and ineptitude by becoming an amateur in any number of areas: drawing, auto repair, ballroom dancing (hahahahaha), bird-watching, gardening, Italian cooking, even returning to those piano keys I so happily abandoned at the age of 11.
I use the word flickered above deliberately. Like a candle in the darkness, each of these ideas glittered a moment, guttered in the wind, and died.
Then it hit me.
I am in the worst physical shape of my life.
It's pathetic.
Eight years ago, I could do a two minute round in a boxing ring. (Okay, my thirty-year-old opponent took it easy on me.) Today I wouldn't last thirty seconds. Four years ago, I was still going to the Y and could climb a steep hill without breathing hard. Today while climbing that same hill I would be praying that some passerby knew CPR.
I am not a total slug. I avoid sweets, eat healthy foods, and watch my weight. I sleep reasonably well. All to the good, yes? But I have exercised little and have indulged in various habits ill-suited to good health.
So maybe, I told myself, I should aim at getting into shape.
Now is not the best time to undertake such a project. Since Christmas Day, I have been afflicted with an ugly cold, sneezing and coughing, exhausted and worn thin, and wishing I owned stock in Kleenex. Right now I feel about as healthy as an old coon dog shivering on the side of a country road during an ice storm in February.
Saint Francis of Assisi didn't know a thing about hunting raccoons (nor do I), but he did have some opinions about the flesh. He regarded his body as Brother Ass (Ass being a beast of burden rather than that part of the anatomy used for sitting).
It's time, I think, to pay some attention to Brother Ass.
I've got the equipment: vitamins, some weights, sweats, a cast-off treadmill squatting like a behemoth beside my bed, some traffic-free places for walking or jogging. There's even an inexpensive gym ten minutes away by car.
All I need now is willpower. (Always a catch, eh?)
Well, Brother Ass, what do you say? Should we give it shot? We'll muck out your stable, brush your coat, feed you some hay and oats, and trot you around the corral. Let's see if we can be good for each other again.
I felt way more confident about the Durant project than about the Brother Ass Course of Action (BACA), so we'll see how this goes.
To you who have made your New Year's Resolutions, good luck!
Best wishes to all of you, and again thank you and Happy New Year,
Jeff
So with 2019 now upon us, I wondered what to tackle this year. I considered a year of reading Shakespeare, or Ancient Greek literature, or various Noble Prize authors unfamiliar to me. I thought of reading poetry every day for a year, or the Bible (I've read lots of it and taught various books and passages in my literature classes, but never read the entire Old Testament). Back and forth the ideas flew.
Then I realized that maybe I don't need a reading project. I mean, I love books; I write on average a book review for papers and magazines every week; I visit the library three or four times a week, mostly to work but also to browse the shelves. Did I really need more reading?
Probably not.
But if not literature, then what?
A dozen projects flickered through my imagination. I could improve my Latin or French. I could read art books, visit galleries both locally and in Washington, D.C., and make this my year of studying great artists. I could chip away at my vast ignorance and ineptitude by becoming an amateur in any number of areas: drawing, auto repair, ballroom dancing (hahahahaha), bird-watching, gardening, Italian cooking, even returning to those piano keys I so happily abandoned at the age of 11.
I use the word flickered above deliberately. Like a candle in the darkness, each of these ideas glittered a moment, guttered in the wind, and died.
Then it hit me.
I am in the worst physical shape of my life.
It's pathetic.
Eight years ago, I could do a two minute round in a boxing ring. (Okay, my thirty-year-old opponent took it easy on me.) Today I wouldn't last thirty seconds. Four years ago, I was still going to the Y and could climb a steep hill without breathing hard. Today while climbing that same hill I would be praying that some passerby knew CPR.
I am not a total slug. I avoid sweets, eat healthy foods, and watch my weight. I sleep reasonably well. All to the good, yes? But I have exercised little and have indulged in various habits ill-suited to good health.
So maybe, I told myself, I should aim at getting into shape.
Now is not the best time to undertake such a project. Since Christmas Day, I have been afflicted with an ugly cold, sneezing and coughing, exhausted and worn thin, and wishing I owned stock in Kleenex. Right now I feel about as healthy as an old coon dog shivering on the side of a country road during an ice storm in February.
Saint Francis of Assisi didn't know a thing about hunting raccoons (nor do I), but he did have some opinions about the flesh. He regarded his body as Brother Ass (Ass being a beast of burden rather than that part of the anatomy used for sitting).
It's time, I think, to pay some attention to Brother Ass.
I've got the equipment: vitamins, some weights, sweats, a cast-off treadmill squatting like a behemoth beside my bed, some traffic-free places for walking or jogging. There's even an inexpensive gym ten minutes away by car.
All I need now is willpower. (Always a catch, eh?)
Well, Brother Ass, what do you say? Should we give it shot? We'll muck out your stable, brush your coat, feed you some hay and oats, and trot you around the corral. Let's see if we can be good for each other again.
I felt way more confident about the Durant project than about the Brother Ass Course of Action (BACA), so we'll see how this goes.
To you who have made your New Year's Resolutions, good luck!
Best wishes to all of you, and again thank you and Happy New Year,
Jeff
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