Once, long ago, in a land far, far away from where I live today, I waited with one or more of my siblings in the family sedan while one or more of our parents ran into one or more of the nearby shops to enact one or more unknown transactions.

The memory is a bit fuzzy.

But nearby, there was a GNC store — one of those odd places selling bottle after bottle plastered with statements which have not been evaluated by the FDA, containing vitamin supplements, herbal remedies, essential minerals and other products not intended to diagnose, treat, cure, or prevent any disease, but nonetheless startlingly expensive.

And for some reason, we started trying to come up with what the letters “G.N.C.” might represent, and somehow one of us dug into our Catholic upbringing and came up with “Jesus, Mary & Joseph”. Doesn’t work, you say? Well, try it “Geezus, Nary & Chofus”. Stir in a thick Irish brogue, rasp the voice up a bit, and belt it out with unflappable authority and a strong note of outrage, and you’ve got a truly magnificent exclamation.