I have been keeping a personal journal since the 1980s. Today, I am sharing an entry from August of 1996:
Today, Rodney and I were killing some time while
awaiting an answer that would allow us to proceed with our work. As we shuffled
around with nothing better to do, I spotted a weight scale on the floor nearby.
I poked Rodney’s belly. “Let’s see how much we weigh, Fatso.”
I pounced on the scale first, watched the numbers
flutter and wag back and forth until settling on 165—pretty close to my normal.
Rodney, who stands several inches taller and appears well-constructed, jumped
on the scale and watched the numbers fall to almost exactly the same weight.
We both stared at each other, dumbfounded. He’s
definitely bigger than me. Probably, the scale is toast. Shrugging my
shoulders, I said, “I don’t know how to explain it, Pal. I guess good-looking
is heavier than ugly.”
—Mitchell Hegman
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