I'm a Swinger

Our arms do swing when we walk, don't they? After parking the car in the morning, it becomes necessary for me to walk through a park on the way to my office. I found out that I could technically park in the lot, but I don't want to be uppity. The lot is reserved for the "special people" - you know, the VIP's. I found out that I DO qualify because of my position, but just can't bring myself to do it. I guess one needs to live the part, to park there, and I refuse to see that I am "better" than anyone else even if I am. ;)

But I digress (which should be the name of this blog, in retrospect), I was talking about the need for our arms to swing as we walk. For some reason, it fascinated me this morning as I strolled through the park. We don't choose to swing them, they just do it on their own like our hands are just dead weights at the end of a rope. I noticed today that the hand that was holding my umbrella (folded up as it was not yet raining), swung more than the empty handed arm. Yep, the dead weight theory. I wondered if I could tell the sex of an unborn baby if I dangled that umbrella over a pregnant abdomen. I looked around for a prego, but did not see one so I continued on toward the building with one arm swing wildly and the other just with its normal movement.

An episode of "Seinfeld" came to mind. Two characters, both hostile, were non arm-swingers as they walked (or in Racquel Welch's case, danced). These characters were made fun of. "Well," I thought as my arms were swinging to beat the band, "at least I won't be ridiculed for that."



1 comment:

Emily Suess said...

It always comes back to Seinfeld.