Tuesday, January 15, 2013

The Truth Hurts

Occasionally people tell me that I smell bad.

Chapter 1

A couple of years ago my Dad went on strike during the house remodel project and refused to come back to work until I changed my shirt.  As much as I tried to explain the virtues of living small and the resultant impact on my very limited supply of designated work cloths, a heartfelt "You smell like shit kid, change your fuck'n' cloths or ain't coming back!" cut my soapbox a tad short.

Chapter 2

I teach young children Physical Education for a living. As far as jobs go, it isn't a bad one;  most kids are psyched to run around for a half-hour and I get to wear shorts and a T-shirt to work every day.  I also have more-or-less turned my classroom into my own personal gym and often take advantage of the opportunity to workout on my lunch hour.  I had just finished up my last set of burpees when my buddy Kevin the Librarian waltzed in the gym.  He approached with a smile, but as he neared suddenly stopped short in his tracks as if he had hit and unseen wall.  His brow contorted as he raised his nose high; he took three quick sniffs rolling his head right to left, "Alford, it stinks in here!"

I summoned my inner Conan the Barbarian and retorted, "It is the smell of man, it is the smell of strength, it is the smell of power.  You would know nothing of this smell!"

"No Dude, it smells like a locker room in here."  He called over his shoulder as he turned and walked out.


Chapter 3

Winter mornings come hard to this Cascadian Commuter.  As much as I like riding my bike, the 6 am alarm never wakes me from my slumber at the 47th parallel with much enthusiasm about another spin in the dank drizzle of the Emerald City.  I hit the snooze button three times before I manage to drag my sorry ass out of the rack, get dressed in my commute kit of wool and polypro, eat my habitual cup of homemade yogurt with a dollop of maple syrup and get my life packed up for the day.

As the the winter has grown darker and mornings colder,  I have developed the habit of crawling back into bed with my lovely wife and snuggling in the warmth until the first hints of light grace the streets of my commute.

Yesterday I slipped under the covers, spooned close to Jen and wrapped my arms around her warm body. She groaned lightly half-asleep,  turned her head, kissed my bearded cheek and whispered softly in my ear, "Matt, your cloths really stink bad".

Three strikes and your out brother.

The upside is that Jen washes my bike kit mid-week now and she still thinks I'm cute; truly I am living the dream.

No hay mejor tiempo que el presente!



  1. Wow. Homemade yogurt and Jenny does your laundry! You are Living the dream.

  2. A strong woman with a strong man!! I had a very good laugh reading your blog, but the real reason I was pointed to your blog by Jeff is probably for me to see this quote and memorize it -- "It is the smell of man, it is the smell of strength, it is the smell of power." :) :) (from midori)