Happiness is a Warm...un...Something

“I need a love to keep me happy,
I need a love to keep me happy.
Baby, baby keep me happy.
Baby, baby keep me happy.”

--Keith Richards of the Rolling Stones.

You know, I am happy, right now.

It’s a feeling of contentment, calmness, assurance and love.

Jen gives me that.

My work gives me that as well, as all seems calm.

Maybe that is the key to happiness; ignore the drama and accept.

Maybe the calm of finding a church where I feel positive attending helps.

Maybe the cats’ relative calming affects helps.

Maybe the idea of not having to fight every fight helps.

Maybe the relative sobriety over the last month helps.

If, I were a betting man, I would say Jen is the biggest contributor.

Somewhere down the line, I have begun to feel more comfortable in my skin, even though I wish to shed some of it. I also have felt the impact of the positive life through my students and my former students who write to me, talk to me, or ask me to view their facebook pages.

Maybe the positive nature with my family has helped. I get along fine with all.

Maybe it is the calming affect of playing George Harrison and Counting Crows as calming affects on the mind has lessoned the load.

Whatever it is, I suggest everyone finds their niche and expands their goodwill to the people who matter in your life.

The positive vibe is surreal.

Something more crabby next week, I promise.

Do The Clothes Make The Man?

“Don’t want to be a fat man,

People would think that I was

Just good fun.”

--Ian Anderson of Jethro Tull from the song "Fat Man" from the album Stand Up, 1970.

I had yet another reminder I need to lose weight this week.

I was deciding on a suit coat to wear the other night when I took Jen out for Valentine’s Day. I have two black ones and one needs to be cleaned. Essentially, and when I am in a hurry, they both look somewhat the same, so I checked the label before I put it on.

To my surprise, the label insulted me.

It read: “48L” skipped a line, and then it said in plain English “portly.”

“Portly?”

Since when does one’s clothes decide to insult the owner?

I felt like Wimpy from Popeye. He’s portly.

I always think of portly people as short, squatty guys wearing derbies or little hats with moustaches.

Yep, Wimpy is the best image I can think of. “I will gladly pay you Tuesday for a hamburger today.” I wonder what job Wimpy had where he was always paid on a Tuesday or a Monday evening. Obviously the job was for a “portly” fellow.

I looked up portly and found this definition at Webster online:

Main Entry:
port·ly
Pronunciation:
\ˈpȯrt-lē\
Function:
adjective
Inflected Form(s):
port·li·er; port·li·est
Etymology:
3port
Date:
15th century
1 : dignified , stately 2 : heavy or rotund of body : stout

Just before the definition was an ad for “portly” suit coats that were 72 L to 58L.

No 48L’s, huh?

Now I will take dignified and stately and I love a good stout beer, but heavy or rotund of body? Nah, I don’t think so.

As Jen told me, I do not need to lose weight as much as I need to “empty the keg on my belly.”

I am not sure if that is better than portly, just for the record.