Sloths

Wow, people are lazy these days.

I took a stroll in Central Park (now that the weather has gotten a bit brisk, it's perfect walking weather) and, as always, I started out with a lap around the reservoir (1.58 miles, thank you).

At the north end of it, a couple of tourists were taking pictures over the water, and stopped me as I passed by to ask if I knew where Strawberry Fields, the John Lennon memorial, was. They sounded English, so I guess that made sense.

I told them it was at about 72nd Street on the west side, across from the Dakota, his Central Park West home. We were at approximately 90th Street at this point, so I said it's only about 20 blocks from where we are now, which is a mile.

Well, their faces dropped. You would have thought I had told them it was in another time zone.

I thought it was only Americans, especially those who live outside New York and who drive everywhere, who were lazy. (Although, I have friends who I've seen get out of breath walking to the bus stop. I have one who sometimes calls while walking, and I swear it sounds like an obscene phone call with the panting and the gasping.)

But apparently it's the whole damn world.

Lazy bastards.

So here's a little Lennon since the tourists didn't make it to his memorial.