The Faux Pas Press #74

18 January 2011

The Faux Pas Press #74

Shit

By Jason Fresh

First, I’m impressed to say, not impressed to say but really depressed to convey, that there are people, talented people out there who will never take a shit. I don’t want to go around telling lies like that Bush character form the movie pictures but I’ve just got to tell it straight – even if it hurts or sometimes appears as though I’m not moving straight but rather gamely forward. Are there people who don’t take shits? Elizabeth has got me convinced that she doesn’t – this is after two years of a rocky marriage. You’d think that sooner or later you’d catch your spouse dropping the deuce.

Second, Runner’s HI is a store in Aiea, HI that my family frequents. We go there on occasion when the only one-piece, fitted track suit that me and the wife share has too deeply saturated in sweat to be dawned for a weekly 7-miler. You can find shorts too short to be worn in public, shoes like those crispy five fingers I see all the kids spewing about, but most importantly, you can find tons of good running company. (Good running company is hard to come by these days. In my dreams, I run laps with Reverend Henry Kane from Poltergeist II: The Other Side. Rather, I run laps around the old sonofabitch, screaming, “Will you stop haunting this spritely soul of mine. Be gone with you. He replies, “Let me in!!” I say, “I’m busy right now. If you hadn’t noticed I’m running laps around your tired ass.”) I mention the store because it has been good to find a dedicated group of friendly, fit people to run with – and out by the Arizona Memorial to boot. What a great run that is – especially when your legs are vital and a great group all pushing you to your best. But what if your best is just shit? Just insurmountable piles (or miles rather) of running shit? I just got to tell it straight – or gamely forward as the case may be. Everybody takes a shit. Everybody.