From the Editor in Chief, U.S., PM Edition

Good evening, readers,

Forgive me for not giving you your Monday AM post. The calls and letters are not going unnoticed. I realize that for some of you, [ahem, Ricky Tinkle] Chris Weekly has become akin to a morning shot of java, and without it you just don't feel ready to face the day. But I just couldn't bring it today. I'm so burned out at my "real job." I've been a certifiable malcontent lately around the office. All that really keeps me going is this blog, Perez and DListed and Windows Space Cadet 3-D pinball (on which I have almost attained a score of 7 freaking million!).

But I digress. Chris said something this morning that galvanized me. To do better. And tackle that pile of work I've pushed to the side for a week or so now.

As he was gearing up for yet another work week's daily ride, he noted how his legs were tired and his body in general was sore from both our increasingly uncomfortable spring mattress and the energy exerted over the weekend working on the bathroom. (Yes, we're still working on it. Please, no more questions regarding progress.) I gave him a reassuring look and continued getting myself out the door. Then Chris sighed, pulled himself up off the couch and said, "Well, I gotta look at it like if I didn't ride every day, no way would I get enough riding time in for the week." [Editor's Note: The preceding sentence was paraphrased.]

Later on, it hit me. The wisdom that lie behind that comment. Aside from the fact that he mandates physical activity be a part of his life -- which is admirable in itself -- he perseveres through the fatigue, through the contempt and antipathy for the work week. He gets on his bike and prepares for a 10-mile ride into the city while I plop my fat ass down on the torn leather seat of my '95 Toyota Avalon, turn the heat on to offset the morning chill and set my iPod to drive 2 miles. He exerts while the rest of us coast. He must stay sharp while the rest of us space out. He can only pedal faster while our butts toast like chestnuts atop seat warmers. He shouts "On your left!" while the rest of us flip our blinker.

Turning a negative into a positive. It is Chris's modus operandi in life, and it was my inspiration in launching this publication. The negative being my arguably unhealthy preoccupation with Chris. I think I'll take a page then from Chris Weekly, and do work. At the office. Tomorrow. Not now, of course, as I'm covering Chris watching the Redskins game live! At our place! With selected Friends of Chris and The Brothers Tank! I promise exclusive pics tomorrow, or at least by late evening tomorrow, of the highs, the lows and the intensity that was Redskins v. Iggles.

Til then, my hot dog's ready! Go Skins!