Healthy Skepticism

“I don’t care what your trainer says,” I said. “A healthy lifestyle does not ensure a long life.”

“You know more about this than a professional health consultant. This is what you’re telling me,” he said, not even trying to hide the accompanying sneer.

I’ll admit it: his self-righteous refusal to consider a differing viewpoint irritated me on a fundamental level. He needed to be taught a lesson. I said, “I’ve got ten dollars that says I, someone whose idea of strenuous activity is getting out of bed to go to the bathroom, will live longer than you, with all the time and money you’ve wasted trying to stave off the inevitable.”

He stepped back and looked at me. It took awhile. There’s a lot of me to look at. Finally, he slapped a ten dollar bill on the table with all the force his heavily muscled arm could must. “Show me your money,” he said.

I didn’t actually have ten dollars. But that was OK, because I did have a shovel, the surprisingly sharp edge of which I proceeded to bury in his face.

I like to think even the staunchest believer in the benefits of a healthy lifestyle would have to concede that I’d made my point. But there’s no reasoning with some people.

A

A QUESTION OF DEGREE

Doug petulantly refused to accept what was obvious to the rest of us. “It wasn’t that bad,” he said yet again. Jay, still hunched over, looked up at him, scowling. “I threw up.” “You didn’t really,” said Doug. “Dude!” said Jay, gesturing at the small puddle of vomit seeping into the dirt at his feet. “It wasn’t that bad,” Doug insisted. “It MADE ME THROW UP,” said Jay. Eventually, Doug admitted the fart had been pretty bad. Foley