Jonathots Daily Blog
(2664)
XV.
I confess so I can heal.
If I deny, I remain sick.
It took a comedian.
Yes, listening to a stand-up joker alerted me to a little piece of hypocrisy which has found root in my heart, and therefore has infiltrated my conversation.
The comic said, “Don’t be sayin’ you got bad knees. You just be fat.”
The whole audience roared with laughter.
Truthfully, I cannot say that I was quite as enthusiastic, but certainly impacted.
When I was twelve years old, I tipped the scales at 300 pounds and have never descended below, and over the decades, I have claimed to have bad knees, even though those joints have afforded me a brief football career, hundreds of tennis games, swimming, setting up equipment in all sorts of difficult environments, thousands of shows performed, nearly a million miles driven and carrying a parcel of kids here there and everywhere.
- I don’t have bad knees.
- I have good knees that were prepared to last a lifetime–if I hadn’t decided to be overweight.
Nobody wants to come across as either weak or a jerk.
One also doesn’t like to appear to be making excuses.
So I shall not do any of the above. I will just say that I am so blessed that my knees have done so well … considering the fact that I’ve asked them to perform their duties with twice as much weight as was recommended by the manufacturer.
The producers of jonathots would humbly request a yearly subscription donation of $10 for this wonderful, inspirational opportunity
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