Sunday, January 17, 2016

I really must, I think, get dressed with more people






We do, we do. We all re-
turn to the gym after al-
most any indulgence, to
repair some oversight or
other. In my "case," not
that the condition is ex-
actly clinical, I often
resort to the gym to re-
store mental balance, es-
pecially after being out
for any length of time - 
and although I'm sure I'm 
not alone in this motiva-
tion, I don't imagine my
imbalance to be the same
as anyone else's, much
less the same for me, ev-
ery time I return.







Now, the assets of the
gym are such that they
afford a diversity of
restorations; and even
on the mental side, can
be seen to fall into a
variety of classes --
there's an audible side,
to be considered; the
notoriously laborious
side, the sociable and
the sensory, even the
negotiable dispensary,
of various pharmaceuti-
cals. Then there are
the sights common to
every locker room since
the discovery of perspir-
ation, having to do with
getting undressed and al-
so getting dressed again.





It's here, I sense, that
I've lost my way, or pos-
sibly just forgotten some-
thing. Don't we all tend
to our shirtcuffs almost
first, in undressing, and
almost invariably last, in
putting the shirt back on?
Is this just some bizarre
cadence of custom in my own
conduct, possibly rippling
through as some cascade of
side effects? It seems to
me, the gym is the likely
forum for arbitrating my
impression, that there's
something peculiar about
this picture. But if I am
not unnatural in my hand-
ling of a shirt, this man
can neither be dressing,
nor undressing. What, then
explains the shirt?




































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