Hold the Pablum, Please

Don’t judge US!

To boot, the very next night we accompanied friends to the Long Branch Saloon for burgers — beef! — and fries. I was told the buns were homemade. So there. Took a statin before bed to tie the score: Atherosclerosis 1, Me 1.

I would love to be able to report to you that our lives are busy and excitement filled. You know the kind of report I speak of. All of us have at least one cloyingly cheerful acquaintance who once annually goes burbling on about the husband’s recent promotion, the family’s ensuing relocation to Wherever, the effortless progress of the children (two is a sweet number — imagine Noah & Sophie) passing their grades. Both of whom are gifted. Which anymore only means they handed in their homework on time. And don’t forget the gratuitous pic of the family cat. Missives of this kind typically arrive around Christmas time. This is done on purpose, to leverage the gratefulness inherent in the season and sucker you into believing just how “magical their year has been!” Moreover, anticipating that certain readers will nevertheless remain skeptical of any report of year-long felicity, photographs are frequently included as evidence. (On the backside, to save paper. This is also done with intention. Staying connected need not mean despoiling Our Earth!). Hardcore types may go so far as to hire a professional photographer to capture the evidence: “Here we all are in a snowball fight in Aspen!”

Pablum. Utter pablum.

Having said that, it is probably not too early for me to begin penning the once annual “Nibblet.” Now in its fifth consecutive year. And it’s free! I changed the name; it used to be called The Nibbles. Care for a stroll down memory lane? 2011. Pablum free!