We are not sure quite what it is, but the fifty-something jogger we passed running through Grand View Park this morning lacked a certain something, a je ne sais quoi, if you know what we mean.
It may have simply been his outfit. Black rumpled shorts and a standard blue tee out of the Walmart bargain bin.
No, that wasn’t it. It was a…a…a certain je ne sais quoi.
You could we suppose point to the belabored expression on the jogger’s face, an expression that said clearly, not sure what exactly, not quite ennui, mon cher, but something more in the neighborhood of ambulance, mon Dieu.
But no, it wasn’t that. It was a je ne sais quoi.