I am enjoying knitting the lace on the edge of Hiawatha (I am now slightly past halfway on the long edge).

I think knitting lace is good for the brain - I don't mean "good for" in that narrow, Puritanical sense that it seems so many things have taken on. Even chocolate is seen as being "good for" you now.

(But it must be the darkest of dark chocolate. And you must not eat more than a certain prescribed amount in a day).

I suppose you could argue that lace knitting is "good for" you because it helps maintain the brain connections - that it fights against Alzheimers, or brain-decay, or whatever.

But you know what? I am growing a little tired of being told that things I enjoy are "okay" to enjoy because they are "good for" me for some utilitarian sense.

Knitting prevents Alzheimers.
Ditto for crossword puzzles.
Reading helps keep your brain sharp and improves your vocabulary.
Tea is full of antioxidants (but again, the proscription: no milk, no sugar in it. I don't normally take milk in my tea but there are a few teas that taste very nice indeed with a little milk added to them)
Chocolate has antioxidants (but again: only dark chocolate. And I suppose caramel fillings are right out)
Quilting is good for your motor skills
Berries prevent cancer.

And on, and on.

Oh, don't get me wrong - I don't MIND that drinking tea is good for me; there is something reassuring in knowing that what I might regard as my "vices" are actually pretty virtuous.

But I also don't like the idea that anything we enjoy should be enjoyed IN THE LIGHT OF the fact that it's also good for you - there's that funny little Puritanical quirk, that weird health-obsessed quality of our times, that whispers to us, "It's really okay to enjoy this; it's lowering your cholesterol."

If it didn't, or if, in fact, it raised one's cholesterol, would it then be forbidden to enjoy?

(Even butter has been partly rehabilitated in the age of Trans Fat fears)

I don't know. I guess I'm not explaining it very well. It's just - can't we just enjoy something for once because it is ENJOYABLE, not because it carries all of these side benefits?

When I say knitting lace is 'good for' me, I mean it makes me happy. It puts me in a good place. I don't care much if it's somehow strengthening the fibers of my neurons, or sorting out my neurotransmitters, or if it's somehow staving off the formation of plaques and tangles.

But often, when people see me do the things I do - or hear me talk about them - that's the first thing they mention:

"Tea is, like, really really good for you"

not

"Is that tea good? What does it taste like? How does it compare to Earl Grey?"

Or they say:

"Knitting is the new yoga!" (a phrase I have come to hate with the passion of a thousand flaming suns. Except, apparently, crochet is the new yoga now. And macrame will be the new yoga next month.)

instead of

"What are you making? Is that wool? What kind of sheep did it come from?"

I guess you can see a little of my prejudices in those statements. When I do something, when I get interested in something, I get interested in the minutiae. I want to know what breed of sheep my wool came from (one thing I'd love, had I but world enough and time? To knit a sweater from the wool of every different breed of wool sheep out there, just to see the differences.) Often my purchases of yarn are driven in part by "Hey, that's a new fiber I've never tried before!"

And it's the same with tea - I have at least 30 of those tiny little "sample" canisters from Adagio Tea because I'm so intrigued by the different flavors and appearances of different teas.

I really don't care so much what the tea is doing to my arteries or my digestion - all I care is it is interesting, and it tastes good, and I often feel better after drinking a cup of it.

I guess what I'm saying is - look at my list above. All of those things are aimed at either slowing one's path to the grave or staving off disability. And although those are admirable goals, I suppose, they are not the only goals we should have in life.

I want to be able to enjoy something simply because it is enjoyable, without the little utilitarian whisper of "...and it's good for you, too."

Because, the problem comes - when you exalt the preservation of the body over other goals, something is lost.

Why not read because it's a fun escape? Because it's entertaining? Because, if you must have a purpose for it, it helps you understand the human condition a little better?

I would argue that's a more fulfilling use of reading than the flat and cold "prevents Alzheimers"

The other thing is - the health benefits of things are so slippery and so changeable. Look at coffee - depending on what stories have been out in the news, coffee is either the New Health Savior or it is the Demon Incarnate.

And that's a problem - if you base your enjoyment on a thing of what it can do for you, you run the risk of having your legs knocked out from under you, so to speak.

Show of hands: how many of you were kind of disappointed when that study came out that suggested eating lots of fiber DIDN'T protect against colon cancer?

Yeah, me too.
How many of you stopped pretending to enjoy the really harsh, twig-infested bread you'd been eating, and gone back to, if not "white" bread, a milder whole grain?

Yeah, me too.

The other problem with setting things up as the New Health Savior is that then people of a certain persuasion tend to look at other people who do not partake of that New Health Savior as somehow having given over to sloth - as somehow choosing, wilfully, to neglect their "duty" to force their lifespan beyond the threescore and ten:

"What do you mean, you don't drink red wine?"

"I don't LIKE red wine. It tastes bad to me."

"But red wine is, like, really really good for your heart."

I will observe that this can take on more insidious and annoying forms, forms I have observed, being a person of slightly greater girth than what is generally considered "healthy" in our society. (The link between body size and health is another rant for another time). It does not matter that I work out an hour most days. It does not matter that I generally eat moderately. It does not matter that I do not smoke, that I floss regularly, that I wear my seat belt. There are still people who see me - size 16 - buying a pint of ice cream and they immediately label me as some kind of dietary wrong-thinker, someone who, by virtue (?) of her size, should NOT BE EATING ICE CREAM.

And that's the dark flip side of the "oh, it's so good for you" argument - the idea that everyone could be thin and healthy and live to be 120 IF THEY JUST CARED ENOUGH TO TRY. No, that's not the case. Not everyone can be thin, not without a massive effort. And even then, maybe not, depending on how insanely you define "thin." Not everyone can be healthy - there are genetic diseases, there are problems that develop even in the most health conscious person. And not everyone is going to live to be 120.

I've often jokingly said that if I went through life, depriving myself of things that tasted good and eating things I didn't care for* and I got hit by a bus, I'd try to strike a deal with God so I'd be able to come back and haunt those who insisted that we all follow restrictive diets so we can "live to be 120."

(*Broccoli. I do not care how good it is for you, I cannot bring myself to eat broccoli. Life is not long enough for me to put up with how it tastes to me. Even the length of life people would argue that I'd have if I ate broccoli at every meal)

Don't get me wrong - I'm not saying to give up exercising and eat fried chicken all the time and start smoking. But I think there's a problem here, and it's partly that people are so quick to label someone who doesn't abide by the same regime as they do as being somehow a slacker.

And I see that as kind of an outgrowth of the "this is good for you, so you're free to enjoy it!" movement. Is it not better to say "You enjoy this - and that is good" and not feel the need to amend it with "...and it's good for you"?

Enjoyment is a good thing. I tend to side with (Episcopal priest and author) Robert Farrar Capon in his arguments in favor of enjoyment. Capon is known for saying that stuff is okay, being happy over a good meal or a good piece of art or a warm fire or a good bath is NOT sinful (as the old time Puritans used to believe, and, as it seems to me now, some of the neo-Puritans in our midst would like to believe). God must like "stuff," Capon says - He made such a lot of it.

And I think there is something fundamentally good in enjoying good things. It is, I think, saying a sort of "thank you" to whatever force you believe brought that thing into being. And I think enjoyment is enough, without saddling the thing with the responsibility of keeping me from death (which, ultimately, is the fate of every human being, whether we like it or not). Rather than trying to stave off death, why don't we just enjoy while we're here? Because, if we enjoy something enough, we get to step "out of time" for a moment ("flow," as that Czech writer whose name I can neither spell nor pronounce calls it) and have a little taste of the eternal.

That, to me, is worth more than having an extra hour to spend on the treadmill.

Enjoyment - enjoyment untrammeled by the whole worry of whether something is "good for you" and if you've corrupted it's "goodness" by, say, putting milk in your tea - should be an end in itself.

And, you know? I think, honestly, I enjoyed chocolate more when it was considered more "forbidden."