The Only Leisurologist In The Village

I ended 2009 with some bad visual puns, and I apologize for trying to be funny. Let's start 2010 on the right foot, getting back to a more meaningful writer/reader relationship.

A lot of people make New Year's resolutions, and I'm certainly one of them. It's an optimistic thing to do which fills my life full of hope and false promise. So here goes...

Hear ye! Hear ye! My New Year's resolution is to not make New Year's resolutions.

It's 9:07 a.m. on January 1, and already I've failed in my resolution. You'd think this would make me pessimistic but nothing could be farther from the truth (not even the hint of Mulroney innocence). It's good to get stupid resolutions out of the way...now I can concentrate on having fun, which is the very reason for the leisurologist's existence.

Let's start the New Year by retelling a joke from last year. It's one of my favourites and it's absolutely appropriate to tell it on a day when some of you are contemplating making resolutions. Here goes...

The joke concerns twin boys of five or six. Worried that the boys had developed extreme personalities - one was a total pessimist, the other a total optimist - their parents took them to a psychiatrist (we'll call him Dr.Varty). It was a very windy summer's day outside, and the parents were glad to be inside Dr.Varty's office, away from the howling gale. First Dr.Varty treated the pessimist.

Trying to brighten his outlook, Dr.Varty took him to a room piled to the ceiling with brand-new toys. But instead of yelping with delight, the little boy burst into tears. 'What's the matter?' Dr.Varty asked, baffled. 'Don't you want to play with any of the toys?' 'Yes,' the little boy bawled, 'but if I did I'd only break them.

Next Dr.Varty treated the optimist. Trying to dampen his outlook, Dr.Varty took him to a room piled to the ceiling with horse manure. But instead of wrinkling his nose in disgust, the optimist emitted just the yelp of delight Dr.Varty had been hoping to hear from his brother, the pessimist. Then he clambered to the top of the pile, dropped to his knees, and began gleefully digging out scoop after scoop with his bare hands. 'What do you think you're doing?' Dr.Varty asked, just as baffled by the optimist as he had been by the pessimist. 'With all this manure,' the little boy replied, beaming, 'there must be a pony in here somewhere!'


This story/joke involves optimists and pessimists. I consider myself to be neither...I'm a realist. As a realist, I've got to tell you that this story could never happen, for a number of reasons assuming that I, the leisurologist, am the psychiatrist:

1) being a psychiatrist implies a lengthy commitment to study, which is beyond my attention span these days (as a self proclaimed amateur psychiatrist I've diagnosed myself with AAADD...advanced adult attention deficit disorder).

Hey, I just saw a bird fly past my window. I'm going to put my boots on and go see what it was.

Ian, you've got to finish the blog first. Stay focused.

Sorry.

2) having a job would negate my status as the only leisurologist in the village of Cambridge-Narrows (like Daffyd Thomas except without the gayness or the smashing outfits).

3) do you really think I'd be in the office if it was windy outside??!!??!!

4) I would never have a pony in my office...I don't like horses, even when they're marinated properly.

There goes another bird past my window. Yippee! I think it's an eagle!!

I think we've lost him. See you tomorrow.