THE MENTAL IMAGE OF A MANHATTAN

In one of the Simpsons episodes Bart mixes cocktails for Fat Tony and the boys downstairs in the Legitimate Businessmen's Club. Which had me occasionally drinking that cocktail for a few years because I was intrigued and charmed. I don't drink anymore -- might interact badly with my medication -- but if I did, this evening is when I would have a Manhattan.

When I came home, my legs hurt. Yesterday upon my return everything was oojah-cum-spiff. And naturally I'm blaming the SF Marathon, which I didn't run (so that's not it) as well as the weather. Which was twelve degrees warmer than yesterday. And that might have been it.


It is mildly problematic that the body is aging faster than the man. In my mind I am still Bart Simpson. And on a dare I might skateboard a marathon (despite not skateboarding), but the body would object. And probably demand that Manhattan merely at the thought of it.

Can I select a Milhouse to do the Marathon instead?
Preferably in slightly cooler weather too.


As I often do when coming home I fixed myself a nice strong coffee. Perked me right up.
I'm ready to fight off the luftwaffe right now.



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