I’ll always remember a scene in one of the last episodes of Seinfeld where Jerry tells George to quit complaining.  (Grumpy George is tired of waiting for his 15 minutes of fame.)  Jerry says, “At least you have your health.”  George responds, “Health’s not good enough. I want more than health. Health’s not doing it for me anymore. I’m sick of health.” 

Back when it aired in the late 1990s, I was in my thirties. I remember laughing and thinking George had a point.  I mean, it’s nice to be healthy and all, but is this all there is?  Will I ever be rich?  Or famous?  Even for 15 minutes, like Andy Warhol had promised?

It’s funny how a couple of decades can change your attitude.  Now, I’m never “sick of health.”  I understand how fortunate I am to have it.  With so many friends and acquaintances my own age hit with truly serious diagnoses, from that nasty bitch Cancer to crippling clinical depression, I (almost) never take my own health for granted.

Yeah, my knee hurts sometimes, but I can still take a long walk outside or ride my bike to the next town.  I know I’m lucky.

Here’s to continued (or a return to) good health for all this Christmas.

Wassail (noun): an early English toast to someone’s health