Jack Pelham

Pushing through becomes ironic
When stands in his own way.

Being ever the champion of the obvious
I have keenly noticed that people
Are not effectively bothered by things
That do not concern them.

Yes, you may quote me on that.

And you’re welcome!

And in support of this assertion
I invite you to witness how a certain fool
May be beaten all day
With principle and precept
And fact and reason
And sourcing and demonstration
And will not be bothered by it in the least.

But if you want to agitate a wise man
Just pose an important question
He cannot answer off-hand
And witness how we may well
Be up half the night
Digging into it best he can.

You’ll never recognize the fools
For what they are until you’ve seen them
Alongside the wise.

When the man submits his own conclusions
In his list of evidences for the thing
He’s showing you right there
That he doesn’t understand
How it works.

I need to lose 55 pounds to get to 200 pounds, which will be somewhere in the ballpark of a healthy weight for me. And while losing 55 pounds sounds like quite a feat, I am at least encouraged that, as of this morning, I have already lost 100 pounds from my all-time high of 355 (in 2016). It has not been easy, and I expect it to get harder as I go. But for what it’s worth, I do believe I can do it—with help.

I learned it from Opie
In the very first episode
That you can hate Aunt Bea—
Not on account of who she is mind you
But on account of who she is not:
Dear Rose who got married
And simply had to move away.

To the question:
“Did you ever love your camp more than the truth?”
How shall they plead?

My wife tells me—
And I’m inclined to believe it—
That I have strong traits of both
Introversion and extroversion—

I have always loved the land
And am grieved to this day
That I must live smothered
In the soulless city.

And still there lingers the hope
However faint
That somehow
It will be made right
Some time before I die.

But either way
I still hope for a place in
That country not my own
Which shall be better still by far.

When my life here is done
And God and I get to talk it over
Whatever shall he make of all the good
Things I might have loved here
But did not want to love?