I snapped to attention when reading Michelle Slatalla’s article in the Times The endless first chapter. I feared that I was the only one who knew, let alone would admit, that I can’t seem to get past the first five pages of any book I have been trying to read, lately.

Is it a correctable condition? Will I deteriorate into a smiling, nodding, but inarticulate participant at cocktail parties when folks regale each other with the latest literary adventure they are engaged in?

So, I undertook a mini research project, including Slatalla’s questioning of Dr. MaryAnne Wolf, to understand more about what was the reasons behind this current reality. Synthesizing it down to it’s most comprehensible level (like that sentence?) Dr. Wolf said, “We don’t have genes for reading.” (Well, that’s a relief looking at my relatives). “It’s an activity that we invented, and by doing it, we show that our brain has the capacity to go beyond itself…deduction, critical analysis, imagination, contemplation.” The net result, Wolf suggests, is keep trying to reengage, it will happen, you’ll start reading again.

Where was I?

Oh yeah, not focusing. Her suggestion, if you …fell off the reading wagon… pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and start all over again. Does this work for you? Sounds suspiciously like dieting.

So, it must have to do with my simply having TOO MUCH to do and therefore being simply too distracted to focus for any length of time.

Which somehow feels like much less of a character flaw than not reading. So I think I’ll stick with that excuse for now.

I am. I know it.

I read the Times article A FIrm Body, With No Workout Required  and, of course, immediately had to write something. That something is, you have got to be kidding!

So, the concept is that the shoe is designed to be instable (and, here I thought the word was unstable) but no matter…If you wish to remain upright and moving in a forward motion, you will have to tighten your gluts, flex your hamstrings, and use your calves so as to not fall flat on your possibly, if not probably, reconstructed face. And it's not for running, hopping, skipping, jumping…only walking.

Reebok made the claim of its effectiveness after testing this on 5 women. Like one more than 4.  No comment.

An exercise psychologist was asked her opinion about this latest phenomenon. "It will probably result in even more walking……." That's because, I surmise, having been foolish enough to buy the shoes, one would have to justify using them, which then "the implicit and explicit virtues endemic to exercise" kick in.

What will they think of next?

Buy a dog.

It has been correlated that people who have recently purchased a dog have shed weight and toned up. This, of course, only works if you buy a really "pull you down the street kinda big dog", not one of those little yappy things. Put on your "Not Your Daughter's Jeans" and you have now effectively shaped and toned your body into submission. 

Clearly, healthy diet and an exercise program are simply passe. Delusional and foolish. I think I'll try that plan.

Feel compelled to move your own body fat around?  Here’s a pretty easy manuever. Put on a skirt, pants, girdle, or panty hose that is at least one size too small. Voila! Fats been relocated to your midriff.

Not the look you were going for, huh?

Help is on the way. Wanting that very same fat to migrate further north? Well then, get thee to a practitioner of the latest procedure, fat relocation.

This is beyond scary stuff. The Society of Plastic Surgeons “reviewed the limited research on fat grafting to the breast and concluded that it can be considered a safe method of augmentation.” Not sure about you, but ‘limited research’ and ‘drawing a conclusion to proceed’, don’t seem to go together in a sentence that has ramifications on my health and well being.

Let’s consider one of the down sides of this procedure. Fat necrosis. I suppose we all want our fat to die and go away, not however while it is still in our body.

So while the two for one concept is appealing to some, “slim the thighs enhance your chest” oh and, by the way, while you are in the neighborhood, puff up your cheeks and lips (guess that would make it a four ‘fer’) I think, for now,  I’ll take a pass.

Let's see. 

Stretch your mind, stretch your budget. Check. Stretch your imagination, stretch the truth. Check. Stretch your hams, run faster. Uncheck.

Now, weren't you surprised? 

I was. 

I stopped running years ago. Bending over to tie my sneakers, I thought, was sufficient enough to constitute stretching.  Who knew that it actually was as much as I needed to do. Go me.

Or not.

The article How Necessary Is Stretching seemed to provoke, more than clarify, what one should do. Will I be injured if I don't?  Will I be a more efficient athlete if I do? Will I meet and marry the man of my dreams?

More questions than answers, it appeared based on reading the comments that trailed the article.

It seems to me that the whole ritual one does before and after exercising, not knowing whether it is good for you or not, does provoke a "boy, am I a good person" feeling. Earnestness of purpose, seriousness about the intention, prolonging having to begin, are all valid reasons.

It appears that I can handily demonstrate my "flexibility" by being easily swayed to change a plan. Other than that, not so much.

A lovely concept. 

Cooing softly into the ear of a loved one. A good time is right before you both nod off for the night. Let your partner know how happy, contented and serene you are feeling. Often, and over and over, serene and happy.  Coo away, even once they have drifted off. Maybe it would be a good time to mention something you've been wanting. Wanting a lot.

Why?

Because scientists have recently determined that auditory cues prior to sleeping increase memory.

This particular study didn't exactly have the findings that I had hoped for. At least not at this point. 

You see, they are linking getting a good night's sleep to memory making and reinforcing. What's a good nights sleep? Particularly when you are lying there, wide awake, trying to recall where you left your keys. 

I imagine the moral of the story for those of us who are clear that we can't remember anything is to talk, aloud, clearly to ourselves, as we negotiate through our day. "I am now putting my keys on the desk." This would be followed by shaking your keys vigorously. "Tomorrow I need to go to the supermarket." Mooing, clucking and oinking might help prompt what was on your shopping list. The list that, no doubt, you will invariably leave at home.

So, take an Ambien, turn off the light, one last key rattling and oink and rest assured that you might, in the morning, find your keys, to drive your car to your local supermarket, and buy what you need.

And if the aforementioned cooing to your partner worked, find a gift when you return home.