The art of hemming and hawing.

I'm good at determining what's on someone's mind. On his/her desire. Do they want to do something? Or not? The moment they hem and haw, it's apparent. They don't. Oh, I could still convince 'em. Do it. But generally, that doesn't have the desired effect. They just go about it in a half-hearted fashion. It could be anything, from going to a concert to losing weight. Trivial stuff. Big stuff. Most times, I don't foist my ways on others. Only on myself. I'm the determined sort. If I'm gonna do it, I do it. I may decide when I get up I'm gonna walk 20 miles today. Or bike for 50 miles. Chances are, it's gonna get done. When I returned from Italy last time, I decided I was gonna lose weight. No matter what. And I did. Fourteen pounds, and counting. I'm as trim and fit and svelte as I've ever been. And I'm determined to keep it that way. Watching my diet. A light breakfast. Often skipping lunch. Or just having a tomato. Or an apple. But having a decent supper. Savored. Eaten slowly. Never less than an hour. And during the day, I work out. Hardly ever less than 10 miles of brisk walking. I see other people. All over. In Minnesota. In Sardinia. Determined, too. To stay sedentary. To stay overweight. Often, they tell me, it's temporary. They'll get around to doing something about it. Yes, they hem and haw. --Jim Broede