Matt Ryan in Sandy Springs

Well, get a move on then, eh?

I love the very end.

I grew up dancing (ballet and Chinese dance).  I played outside when I was a kid.  I rode the bike, loved roller skating around the neighborhood.  Despised PE class more than math.*  If you know me, you know that I do not like to perspire, something that happens easily and sometimes without provocation.  It’s not that I don’t like to move my limbs, I just don’t like to sweat…

Sweating makes me cranky.  Being hot makes me cranky.  Oddly, neither of these issues were, well, issues when I was a kid.  I hated PE class in elementary school and junior high because we were graded on it.  Unless one wants to participate in competitive sports, shouldn’t you just get a Check or Check Minus for PE?  You showed up and moved your body to the best of your ability for the duration of the class?

I enjoyed kickball (or Danish Rounders as it was called).  Four Square was fun too.  Dodgeball on occasion.  Anything that involved a stop watch, running, and a test of upper body strength, however, was the bane of my existence.

I don’t think sweating began to distress me until I was in college.  Ironically, I took a few dance classes that gave me a new appreciation for the ways in which human bodies slice or serpentine through space.**  Perhaps it was this new awareness of not just how my own body and the bodies of others occupied sat, stood, or gestured that I grew increasingly cognizant of being out of the equilibrium.  Room temperature heart-beating.

No, I wouldn’t have preferred to lounge around instead of recess or PE.  I just didn’t think it was logical or fair to evaluate someone else on their non-athletic prowess.  I could do sit-ups till pigs were sheep and cats were dogs and thoughts were made of lincoln logs, but don’t ever ask me to run because I will just sit down on the ground where I stand and stare at you.

*What irritated me about math class wasn’t that I found it inherently bothersome–I just wasn’t good at it after a certain point.

**One of the reasons why I love televised football and instant replays (slow or not) from various angles.

4 thoughts on “Matt Ryan in Sandy Springs

  1. kevmoore

    When I was at school,(several millenia ago) they used slide rules, and the temptation to bring in a large clunky first generation calculator into class was met with instant detention. We used books full of logarithmic tables and tangemts and stuff. I had not the, nor do I now, the SLIGHTEST idea what they were for and how to use them. They baffle me. Me and maths do not get on. Yet, I can count perfectly well, add on percentages of tax, etc etc do sums in my head. That, to me, unless you’re after Einstein’s gig – should always be enough. Never much for PE either. I wanted to do Tennis, but we had no courts, and they used to make me play rugby on ice cold serrated mud. Character building. Digging the early picture of the low-rider pugs!

    1. sittingpugs Post author

      Real-world arithmetic is certainly more useful than any kind of trig or algebra or even geometry that one may or may not be applying to one’s daily life.

      And now, there’s certainly an “app” for any kind of real-world arithmetic one could possibly need.

      I have trouble counting change. Coins. If I have a decent pile of change, I have to count them out before I make a purchase. If you put me on the spot even if nobody is behind me, I freeze. I forget how to do it.

      So, my ritual is to count up how many dollars I have if there are enough quarters. If not, then I count all the non-pennies. And then I count the pennies…and keep them away from the non-pennies until after the transaction has been made.

      1. kevmoore

        Now that’s interesting…because I do a very similar thing. Only the other day I was buying something for 80 cents, and I counted them out ahead of time so as not to be confronted with it on the spot. -and if I have time before purchases and have a lot of change I automatically shift it about in the palm of my hand and arrange into whole euros….


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