Help save little Jimmy

From a humble, selfish idea a nationwide movement grows. The Old Bag is into it. VelociPete is stocked with meat. I’m giving until it hurts.

Well, that’s what I’m supposed to say, anyway. Truth is, I’m really giving until it feels good.

Join us. It’s not too late.

Cook an animal and uncork a bottle of wine. Ice down some good beer. Whatever you’re into as long as it’s not tofu pretending to be meat, because that’s just perverse. Devote your Saturday night to a vigil in support of fellow blogger Jill and the other self-abusing participants of the Susitna 100.

Act on their behalf. Enjoy what they cannot: fresh, hot food; cold, alcoholic drinks; warmth; sleep.

Savor the fact that you’re in a soft chair instead of humping your overloaded bike across the frozen wastes. Or wish you were out there with 'em, if that’s your thing.

I’ve been tempted to enter that torture-fest but I keep coming up with 10 reasons to stay home—I like to call them my toes. And I'm lazy. My talents have always leaned more toward the area of teasing those with more ambition.

Go ahead, slip off those socks. Put those pink little un-frostbitten toesies a little closer to the fireplace.

Now wiggle 'em.

Take a sip of wine.

Repeat.