M.’s been on a roll lately ranting about the spawn of others. The capper is tomorrow. They’re having some kind of fun day at work where folks are bringing their rugrats into daddy’s or mommy’s office.

Games, fun, food and prizes, I gather, in some kind of mangling of “Bring your kid to work day.” It’s a month early to be the real official deal of the day. Still and all, it’s some form of it.

Awesomely, and in some kind of fucked up Bay Area kind of inclusion or reflection of the whole “everyone is special” ethos that seems to have infected the country, his work is acknowledging we aren’t all breeders. So there’s some kind of special bonus gathering of the abstainers, impotents, prophilaxis-loving doers and maybe some gays. The spawnless get their own shindig for “drag your kid in day.”

Loving it.

He’s actually pretty chill with kids. It’s the parents, the breeders themselves, with whom his umbrage is taken. It’s easy to hate on them in these parts. For example, ain’t nothing worse when you’re all up in the wilderness than spying the bright colors and large wheels of an all-terrain jogging stroller coming up the path.

I saw a three-body wide jogging stroller on a bike path yesterday whilst walking to work. Wouldn’t three toddlers at once be exercise enough?

Speaking of exercise, I’m diving in on the whole free pedometer, seven-week, 10,000 step a day, work challenge. I work with fucking freaks, though.

If you listen to the Surgeon General, or more importanly the interweb tubes, you get info like this right here. It says how like your office worker type gets like 1,000 to 3,000 steps a day, which might be a mile, just by strolling to the copier and chatting at the watercooler (In my head, there’s a watercooler, even though I’m not sure I ever worked near one, let alone water that provided a gathering point.)

But, the can-do, overachievers that populate my place of biz don’t do shit in small degrees. Like ever. A casual weekend outing is hiking Half Dome.

Walking to work and back home again, abut 2.7 miles each way, isn’t necessarily putting me in the top 10 for daily totals. I’m getting maybe 17,000 steps a day, and it just ain’t enough to compete.

Makes me miss the snow, wind, sleet and mud of a March in New England, where stepping outdoors is just not desirable.

All this walking gives you a chance to smell the proverbial flowers, though. Although with the seasonal allergies I don’t sniff, I click.