Comfortably Numb

I vaguely recall a tale of my father's, from a period of time when he was a police officer in a small town in southwest New Mexico. He still is there, living the life of a comfortably-retired civil servant. The term above was not exactly the last words spoken during a cuff and stuff episode outside of a hometown watering hole...there was one more word there.

The chapeau in question above only reinforces something I find rather strange. How is it that athletes in the pool or on the bike can wear Spandex, but if the average Joe Paper Lunch Bag decides to wear the same type attire his masculinity is called into question? How much of that 1980's-big-hair-glam-rock influenced this attitude? I realize it's not a universal thing, only an American thing. My European friends see nothing wrong with Speedos, Lycra bike shorts or tight-fitting attire when working out. As for me, I'd rather have you mocking me behind my back as I'm blasting down the road on my triathlon bike at 20-something miles per hour, rather than meet your seal of approval and have to deal with chafing and other discomfort. So there.
Find a need and fill it. Sounds like my day job. Unfortunately, the recommended intervention (while worthwhile) seems a little too big. Then again, I remember seeing a Dave Matthews Band video a couple of years ago; the protagonist got up in the morning and went out into the world, giving a hug to everyone he encountered. Looked a little too silly at first. However, after long stretches of short chats with my wife (She tends to buy into this kind of solution set; I tend to raise the b.s. flag after five minutes.) this might be an idea whose time has come.

There are certain questions that should never be answered. Some calculations should never be made. However, the best one I've heard, for want of a better term, would be best called beer mileage. A friend looked at the calorie content of the typical 12-ounce American beer and figured it to average right around 100 calories, more or less. So, in order to burn off 100 calories, she figured the average person would have to run at least one mile. So, running a ten-kilometer (6.213712 miles) race would burn off the calories taken in by a six-pack of American beer. I guess, if you took this analogy further, you could say a 12-pack would equal a half-marathon's worth of running, and a case of beer would require you to get out and do a marathon. Of course, the catch is doing the mileage before the intake. Yes, you have to earn your beer, friends. You get to be comfortably numb after you do the work.
It doesn't work as well the other way around; drink the beer, then do the distance. I've seen what folks look like trying to run after doing a beer. Twice. One can per quarter mile. Not a pretty sight.