The truth about Neil Diamond

ALL TRUTHS ARE EASY TO UNDERSTAND ONCE THEY ARE DISCOVERED; THE POINT IS TO DISCOVER THEM ---GALILEO

So far in 2011, I have had two of the most different weekends it is possible for one person to have.

Two weeks ago, I spent the weekend at a yoga center. I was up before dawn, doing yoga in a room aptly named "the sunrise room", watching the sun rise. I went snowshoeing over a frozen lake, walking around a snow-covered labyrinth, and did 2-3 yoga classes each day. The center was warm enough to bring Caribbean vacations to mind and make me wish I had packed tank tops and shorts rather than fleece. I filled myself with super yummy organic food and left rested and feeling quite good about myself.

By contrast, last weekend was spent in a hotel, halfway between a friend's house and mine to hang out and have fun. We ate large quantities of non-organic pub food and drank to excess. It was cold enough outside to make me wish I had packed an entire fur suit. On Sunday, I slept until almost noon, willing my head to stop pounding. And I left feeling quite poorly about myself.

Yet between these two weekends, it was the second one in which I learned an all encompassing universal truth: everything can be blamed on Neil Diamond. Never knew that before. But now, it's so crystal clear. (and don't worry, I'm pretty sure he'd have no problem with this)

For instance: if Neil Diamond hadn't written such a catchy, singable, hard to forget song, I would never have ordered the seemingly harmless drinks named "Sweet Carolines". It's really Neil's fault that I ended up behaving like a more conservatively dressed Snooki and ate approximately half a bottle of Advil on Sunday.

Are you tired of going out and seeing teenagers with their pants around their thighs and their underwear on full display? Neil's fault. Neil and that catchy, ridiculously singable and hard to get out of your head "Forever in Blue Jeans". I understand that most teenagers don't even know who Neil Diamond is, never mind listen to his music, but it sneaks in subliminally via muzak pumped over the speakers in malls.

Trying to remedy a problem with your cell phone bill and frustrated that you can only talk to people based out of New Delhi? Neil again. If Neil hadn't spent so many years crooning "They come to America, They come to America" over and over, well then, nobody would have noticed. But thanks to Neil, somebody did and decided to just move the jobs to where all those people coming to America originated from.

And what about those agonizing post break up weeks when you search for joy in the bottom of cartons of ice cream and just wish you could punch somebody to make them feel as horrible as you do? Punch Neil Diamond! On some level, it was that "Heartlight" song of his that drove your perfect relationship right off a cliff into finished-ville.

Seriously, man. What is Neil Diamond's problem? Why does he want to make so many people feel bad?

Or maybe it was just a burden thrust upon him. Maybe he's like the Chuck Norris of misfortune. That may be more like it. 'Cause it wasn't a weekend of clearminded bliss, but a little bit of misfortune that made me see the truth about Neil Diamond.