It has been a long time since I worried about exercising. Tim Jones has decided to follow m y example. He writes . . .

Put Down Your Dumbbell

Ever since I was young, competing to earn a spot on my high school’s freshman track team, I have regularly exercised. So much so that when I was 35, I even competed in the New York City Marathon. I say I “competed” because that sounds much more impressive than “I jogged and walked” and gives the impression I might have stood a chance of winning. Alas, I came in 5,217 ^th – barely overtaken by the other 5,216 runners ahead of me.

Over the years I have jogged, cycled, used the treadmill, lifted weights, swam and played against my brother John in the Summer Olympics on Play Station 4, all in an effort to lose weight and build muscle tone in pursuit of those impossible-to-achieve six-pack abs. The results could only be described as disappointing, as anyone who’s seen me without a shirt on lately will attest.

That’s why I’m thrilled to announce I am never going to exercise again. Ever! From now on, I will just think about it. That’s because, I just read an incredible report in the Daily Guardian with the following headline:

Scientists discover just IMAGINING exercising can make you stronger, tone your muscles, and delay or stop muscle atrophy!

Talk about a game changer! In a study by Ohio University, researchers concluded that just thinking of exercising can have the same effects as actually hitting the gym.

First thing tomorrow, I’m puttng my elliptical up for sale on Craig’s List. I’m confident I can get $50— just so long as they don’t inspect it too closely or try peddling at any level above 3 (which is when it makes that grinding noise and starts bellowing smoke.) In place of the elliptical, I will move in my plaid La-Z-Boy recliner that my wife has always hated. I guess I’ll no longer need all those dumbbells sittng in my basement. I’ll start using my smart bell instead. Get it? (I’m talking about my brain. It’s a play on words— dumbbell, smart bell? Do I have to spell everything out for you?)

I will begin slowly, so that I don’t strain a mental muscle. I’ll probably start out thinking about exercise only fifteen minutes— which, according to my wife, is about ten minutes more than I currently use my cranium in an average day.

Over time, I will build up to thinking for 30 minutes about exercising, then 45 minutes, and then eventually, after a few months, a full hour. But I don’t want to over-extend myself, lest I pull a temporal lobe or strain a basal ganglia. I need to pace myself if I am going to succeed at my new regimen of mental gymnastics. Then, before long, I will have the physique I have always dreamed of, plus a lot more time to sit in my new recliner and get caught up on past episodes of THE OFFICE.

But I don’t intend to think just about exercise. I intend to expand my cerebration. With this new outlook on life, I’m excited to apply my new cognitive skills to many other activities. Starting next week, if I can stick to my plan, I will start thinking about doing yard work and power washing the driveway. I might even start thinking about helping my wife with making dinner.

Suddenly, I have never felt so motivated to think about helping around the house. I just hope my wife appreciates how much mental energy I have expended thinking about all of this.

As exciting as this breakthrough study is, I want to make sure I don’t abuse my new cranial capacity. For example, I heard about a guy who tried applying this technique to his driving. He was driving 95 mph—a full 40 miles over the posted highway speed limit. A cop pulled him over and the dude tried to explain that he was THINKING about going 55 the entire time. Despite hearing about the study’s remarkable conclusions, the officer still ticketed him. I guess the policeman was not a believer in science.

It’s time for my first workout. They say it’s important to give yourself little rewards along the way in order to keep yourself motivated whenever you begin any new challenging exercise program. That’s why I’m going to reward my mental conditioning session by eating a bowl of Rocky Road ice cream. And no, I’m not just going to think about eating it.

It was bound to happen. Sesame has gone politically correct.

When Sesame Street premiered in November 1969, Kermit the Frog tried to teach young viewers about the letter W.

But then, Cookie Monster interrupted and ate a fourth of the letter, turning the W into an N. Trying to make lemonade out of lemons, Kermit then tried to teach children about the letter N. But Cookie Monster struck again, turning the N into a V and then the V into an I.

Cookie Monster then ate the I and tried to eat Kermit too.

At no point did the exasperated Kermit ask Cookie Monster what race he was.

Sesame Street has come a long way since 1969. On Thanksgiving Day, Sesame Street will introduce a new Muppet to the show, Ji-Young. She will be identified as a 7-yearold Korean American who loves electric guitar and skateboarding.

Of course, Ji-Young is not Korean American— she’s just felt, rubber, and foam, as were all Muppets for decades.

Oscar the Grouch, Grover, snuffle-upagus, count von count, Elmo, Ernie, and Bert—none of these were ever white or black or Latino or Asian. Their “skin” colors are green, blue, brown, purple, orange, red and yellow, but none of them are identified as being a different race or ethnicity than any of the others. There is Rosita, the bilingual Mexican monster first introduced to the cast in 1991, but she isn’t even supposed to be human. Sesame Street’s cast has always been diverse. But it was only this year, with the introduction of two black Muppets and now an Asian Muppet, that human puppets were explicitly given racial identifications.

For the longest time, they were all just residents of a place called Sesame Street. That was enough to bind them into a community. This used to be enough for Americans, too—at least when we were at our best. Yes, we come from different places, but once we are born here in America or immigrate legally, we are all Americans, for whom race and origin are not important. We shared a single identity as inhabitants of the great melting pot.

The view has fallen out of favor. Now, critical race theory demands that we look at each other’s skin color first and judge. Race is the prism through which everything must now be viewed. So, of course, we can’t have a new Muppets that are just from sesame Street. Now, they must be first categorized on the scale of privilege and oppression.

This raises the question: Between frog and pig, who is the oppressed and the oppressor? By Conn Carroll

Last of all, over the years we have received countless Letters to Santa. However, we have never received even one thank you letter to Santa after Christmas. When I read the following it brought a smile to my face . . .

A man who had just won millions in the lottery wrote his first letter to St. Nicholas: “Dear Santa, If there’s anything you want for Christmas, just ask.”