Out of the Crooked Timber of Humanity, No Straight Thing Was Ever Made

A quote by Kant. I take it to speak to our inherent imperfections and limitations as humans. But really it came to me when my osteopath was straddling my back and kneeding my vertebrae like an Italian peasant would dough. Or a prophet from the book of Leviticus, extracting some Old Testament style justice from my spine.

Five minutes earlier he had told me my back was slightly crooked and it was wrenching my muscles so one side of me was preceptibly lower than the other. I felt like my posture had been worsening, but I thought this had more to do with the last two elections and the intervening four years.

"Yup, your whole body points out to the left. It's crooked. See the nipple line?"

Nipple line! I laughed out loud. But that I'm not straight? That I lean to the left? No revelations here.

He didnt scribble any muscle relaxants for me though. Back to icing myself with a frozen bottle of Stoli, I guess. Speaking of prescription drugs and vodka, for the first time in three years I have New Year's plans worth mentioning. Mac has invited us aparachiks to his place in NYC. I'll pick up the Jess in Detroit and we'll fly over together. We each bought one way tickets, so I hope the TSA does not intrepret our destination, lack of return flight, and transparent 'hatred of freedom' as evidence that we're freelancing for al-Qaeda.

Last time I flew to Minnesota I was selected for a random baggage search. When the mouth-breathing lady with wooden stick poked my clothes aside and found four books on Afghanistan, religious fundamentalism and political Islam, her eyes met mine. She didn't lift her head or close her mouth. 'Sir, take off your shoes please...' She said.

But between now and a New Year's reunion of the college diaspora, there is that other great secular holiday: Christmas. Typically I love X-mas in Minneapolis. The family. The city. The lefse and cardamom bread. This year though may be asphyxiating. If my uncle insists on playing the Red State-talk-radio-evangelical martyr in our Blue State family, I'm not going to give an inch. I'll be as condescending, elitist and didactic in my leftist manifestos as I have wanting to be with him for years. That or I'll drive to Byerly's and stick my head in the olive bar. No sneeze gaurd will be able to stop me.