If Justice Antonin Scalia and I did not appear to share certain tendencies toward dietary mischief, he might join me in some good-natured name-calling and concur that I am, in fact, full of “jiggery-pokery” or at least beans.
But, there being no hippies around, I will have to explain.
Dueling with the blues this morning, I donned my fine Larry Mahan summer hat — “Horseman” model — grabbed a water bottle and hit the trail with thoughts of all the wise stuff I had read and watched on fighting cancer during the last couple of weeks.
“Keep moving,” said the pulmonary expert Donna Wilson, RN, MSN, RRT, in a cancercare.org webcast.
“We recommend a variety of different-colored fruits, vegetables and whole grains because different colors mean different phytochemicals,” said Arlene Provisor, clinical nutrition coordinator at the Oschin Institute, in a Los Angeles Times story headlined, “Battling cancer with exercise, nutrition and mental health.”
It all made great sense. So, what did I unthinkingly do after my spin on the BLM acreage still bordering my house?
Scalia could rightly argue that such food preparation goes beyond “pure applesauce” and destroys my “reputation for clear thinking and sober analysis.”
I’m kicking myself for health care obfuscation. And it’s probably true, as Scalia might say, that the “showy profundities” of my blog “are often profoundly incoherent.”
But I do not mean to suggest that Justice Scalia and I always share the same concerns.
Despite all my “argle-bargle,” he apparently has heartburn and I do not.