Let's put it this way, if you want to be healthy, relaxed, and contented, just watch what a Bisy Backson does and then do the opposite. There's one now, packing back and forth, jingling the loose coins in his pocket, nervously glancing at his watch. He makes you feel tired just looking at him. The chronic Backson always seems to have to be going somewhere, at least on a superficial, physical level. He doesn't go out for walk, though; he doesn't have time. The Bisy Backson is always On The Run, it seems, always:
I married the rarest of creatures, a genuine redneck who was born and raised in the liberal San Francisco Bay Area. I'm a technophile married to a technophobe.