I've decided not to "work out" any more. I hear people say that they are going to "train" never asking "for what?" but assuming they are going to enter some contest, some triathlon or road race or whatever. My beautician trained for years. She entered physique competitions. She did well, sometimes, after months of lifting and dieting, and then she'd eat again and look like a normal person. The fellow in the picture was my buddy. He was quite an athlete. He was an NCAA wrestling champion in college. Later he placed second in the state's Golden Gloves competition. He was a record setting power lifter and later became a professional wrestler and was Champion of the WWA in 1984. After that, he won some body building trophies. He was the last owner of the oldest gym in the U.S. and I was the last person working out there. As I did a set, the piece of equipment disappeared into the truck you see above. My buddy is in his fifties in this picture and was still fighting in MMA bouts. One day, I swear, I will tell some stories about the years in that gym.
But I don't want to "work out" any more. I'm giving up. I'll still go to the gym, but I am going to simply exercise. It will be fun and healthy. That's what I've decided.
I got a late start yesterday after receiving a call from one of the factory foremen. He was calling for advice. I'm good at giving advice. I just don't take it very well. But we were on the phone a long time. But the day was nice, and I went for a walk, then to the Club Y to "take some exercise." I wasn't pushing anything hard and I didn't do it for long. Then I went poolside for a brief sun bath. Then it was time to clean up and get some lunch, after which I went to the cafe. When I wrote to tell Sky about my day, she replied, "luxurious." I realized she was right. My days could be like vacation days if I thought about them right. I live in one of the vacation capitals of the world. Why do I not have more fun?
I want to have more fun. I don't have to work, and I am not going to "work" out. I am going to read and write and relax--the new 3 Rs.
It's a nice theory, anyway.
In the afternoon, the cafe was pretty empty. Two young girls strolled in. They were very tall and dressed in what looked like costumes--knee socks and platform shoes, micro-skirts and crop tops. They looked around in that young girl self-conscious way then walked to the Photo Booth. They were making pictures. They were making a lot of them at five dollars a crack. I wanted to see the photos, so I told them I would pay for as many photos as they wanted if I could keep half of them. You are shocked? Of course I didn't, but the thought crossed my mind.
An old, dusty Hyundai pulled into the lot. In the front seats were what appeared to be a mother and a daughter. The daughter looked to be fifteen or sixteen. They sat in the car a long while as the daughter took her time eating some junk food out of a bag looking straight ahead through the windshield. They didn't talk. Neither were smiling. When they eventually got out of the car, the mother was youngish and pretty-ish if she didn't look so miserable. She wore torn jeans and a t-shirt. She was thin. The girl got out the other side, shorter and thicker than the mother. I thought the scene was awkward. Why were they coming to a hipster cafe? What was up with that? So I went over to where they sat and asked them. No I didn't, but I wanted to.
I'm like a peeper, I guess. I'm curious about what people do. I thought both those sketches would be the bones of a good story that I will never write.
What can I say? I'm a man of leisure. That sounds good. I've been fairly depressed, I think, but that idea has cheered me up. I think I'll take a stroll now, then maybe a little exercise. I may lie by the pool for a bit, then clean up and go somewhere for lunch. Tonight I'll have dinner al fresco with the cat. She has been coming around again, both her and her boyfriend.
Well, that's a plan, anyway. God knows what will truly happen. But it is The Holidays now. The streets are full of decorations, more than I have ever seen in my life. I read that this year people are spending more money on Halloween decorations than ever in history. It shows. I must prepare myself, of course, for the holiday gore. It seems that we just did this, doesn't it?
O.K. I have to hurry now. You know. . . I have to start my leisure. The sands of time, etc.