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September 28, 2008
my friends, let's get down to brass tacks
Random stuff not worthy of solo blog entries.
There have been lots of recent hits - mostly from Europe - to this blog from people using "Duncan Larkin" as search criteria. Guys, yeah you European guys especially: Duncan doesn't live here, and I'm not privy to any more of his secrets than you are. But if you want to find him, his blog is here.
After three days as a YMCA member, I'm a gym snob. Around here if you join the Y you can go to any Y, and not all Ys are created equal. To me a good Y has: spin bikes with computers that show rpm and time, and you can use them when there's not a spin class going on, and the room has fans or AC or something so you don't make such a big puddle of sweat on the floor; stationary bikes with seats that don't point downhill, and with toeclippy things on the pedals, and not cheek by jowl with some other machine so you fling sweat onto the person next to you, who flings his or her sweat onto you.
Oh, and the adjustable parts of the machines have to be adjustable, so you can adjust them if you need to.
And the people working there should not call you "Miss [firstname]" once they find out your first name, which they inevitably do. I don't know where that came from, whether it's a Southern thing (though Florida's not really the South) or a church thing or an "urban" (PC Eupemism Alert!) thing, but it makes me feel old.
I'm increasingly dismayed by changes I attribute to getting old. I started wearing reading glasses a couple of years ago, but since I read all the time I wear the glasses everywhere, and so now I've become dependent on them. When I don't wear them I just don't see well, especially in less-than-bright light. To add insult to injury, the glasses are no longer strong enough.
I've had extensive dental work over the past few years, and it's affected my speech and facial structure and ability to swallow, and I'm very self-conscious about eating and speaking in public. And don't even get me started about band practice, or playing shows. And the fact that I could be the drummer's mom doesn't help any.
In "Lowlands," Chris Knox sings We can't do what we could; it fills us with self-loathing. I could list more stuff that seems to be malfunctioning, or grinding to a halt, but this entry's beginning to sound like a bitch, and who needs that? I didn't spend the years from 20-45 dreading what might be when I was middle-aged, so I guess I don't need to spend the next 20 years worrying about what it will be like when I'm old.
Right?
Posted by joe positive at September 28, 2008 6:44 PM
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