Confusing the End with the Means

It used to be that having a tan indicated you spent a decent amount of time doing outdoor activities, such as working outdoors and/or in the garden, going for walks, playing tennis, swimming, etc. The tan was a natural consequence of your activities.

Then it got to the point where people groomed the tan* so they had that look when they actually weren't doing those activities.

It used to be that people did things that they enjoyed doing -- gardening, riding horses, volunteering for charities, etc. -- and the natural consequence was happiness. Then it got to be that people started chasing happiness as the goal instead of the side effect.
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I read about people who say they just want to be a good person, so they go out of their way to do good deeds in the hopes they will become a good person. Again, being a good person is a natural consequence that comes with doing the right thing. You don't do the right thing so that you become a good person; it just sort of happens while you're doing good things.
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We have an awful lot of people nowadays who are at everything ass backwards. Be good for goodness sake. Don't cultivate a tan. Do the activities that you enjoy and that help you grow mentally, emotionally, and physically, and you will end up with happiness as the end effect. ~~GH

*Intentional tanning, of course, led to an unprecedented skin cancer epidemic. There has been a 200% increase in melanoma cases since 1973.

A writer friend of mine died last month two short months after diagnosis (I'm not implying my friend overlooked his health, not at all. Some melanomas don't even have external lesions).

Early detection is a must with that terrible disease. Please do a full body skin exam at least yearly, or have someone else help with places you can't readily examine.

Out At Home

I was a little bit of a jockette in my day. Tomboy. Sportsy. I grew up with brothers and a neighborhood full of boys. I'm about as far from athletic as a person can be these days, but at one time I identified fairly strongly with that lifestyle. I played sandlot football, church league basketball and softball for several years, and competitive tennis for many years. I bowled and played softball for my employer's teams, too. I was a pretty good wrestler in my day, as well. 

My softball position was catcher. Catcher is a rough place to be. You don't get a break; something's always happening at home. Outfielders, basemen, and short stops all have intermittent work. A catcher is active: every time a pitch is thrown, she's moving. Squatting, kneeling, stooping, standing, stretching, returning the ball to the mound, watching for base stealers, trying to catch fouls. 

Once play is initiated, the catcher's still on the job, eyes peeled, waiting to head off that third-base runner. When I played ball, you might throw to a baseman and the runner'd be out. But at home? The runner had to be physically tagged out by the catcher -- me. 

We played some rough gals. They'd just as soon knock me down as get tagged out. I learned that the hard way. (That's not counting the numerous batters who do their dead level best to strike the catcher when they swing those deadly aluminum bats). Somewhere are a couple of photos of me literally backed up between the umpire's spread legs, hugging the chain link fence to avoid being struck by a forceful batter who is stretched out as far as humanly possible, doing her best to hit me. 

So when the pitcher, fielder, shortstop, or baseman throws home to put a batter out, it's not merely a matter of the ball getting home. The catcher has work to do once she makes her catch. 

Why the sports lesson, you ask? I want you thinking when you read this poem I wrote. Because it's not enough that the ball is thrown, or caught. There's still work to be done once it arrives. 

And the punctuation is very intentional. ~~GH

Out At Home

I hurl my signal
Across the miles
Like a desperate throw to home.
It’s wild and it hurts.
So much depends
On that horsehide;
I hope it connects