I’d like to address everyone in the gym who is currently staring at me.

Yes, I am doing those little lifts in which I hold on to the bars and send my feet flying up in the air as though I’m repeatedly slipping on two scoops of ice cream.

And yes, my legs cause a green blur every time I do so because I am wearing green socks.

And yes, a valid interpretation for this might be because I forgot my regulation white gym socks at home and therefore I’m working out in colored socks that I wore with my slacks today.

But that is not necessarily true.

I could be wearing green socks with these leg lifts for many other reasons.

For example, I could be practicing a kind of Kinyasa Buddhist meditation, in which organic energy is funneled through my legs and down through my feetwear.  In this ancient exercise regiment, the color green acts as a conduit for said energy.  And the results are plain.  My focused meditative strategy is burning up my love handles faster than you can say “Keanu Reeves was the best Buddha ever.” Also, I am becoming extremely virile.  Ladies, step on up.

Or I could be tapping into my Irish heritage and using the mystical connections between my green socks and the Motherland.  Invisible leprechauns are helping my legs swing into the air.  And they’re massaging my feet.  And upon my command, they will find all of your mommas and give them a good slap.

Or I could be wearing these socks to protest the United States withdrawing from the Kyoto treaty.  The green of my socks represents the need to seek out alternative energy sources.  And, like, saving the whales, and crap like that.

Look, the point is, mind your own goddamn business. 

You just wish you could do leg lifts with this much grace, poetry, and--yes--this much green.  I’ll tell you who is green.  You are all green.  WITH ENVY.

Ingrates.