About four to five mornings a week, I drag myself out of bed, get on my bike, and go to the Gym. I love lifting weights and working out. When I was fighting crime, one had to stay in shape to keep up with the bad guys. You also had to have a lot of endurance to put up with the idiotic directives and endless cascade of bullshit coming down from ”Admin”. So, like the guys in prison, many of whom can thank me for being there, I felt I needed to keep up with the clientele.
Now I gotta clear up some things for all you folks that may think being a Probation Officer was in anyway exciting or interesting. When I told people what I did for a living, they’d say something like: “How interesting” or “You must like working with people,” No, I didn’t like working with people, I liked screwin’ with people or why would I be in a racket where all I did all day was tell folks what to do, and threaten them with jail if they didn’t?? AND, to set the record straight; because I hate the confusion of terms. Probation means supervision BEFORE prison: parole means supervision AFTER prison. Jail, is a county facility. Prison is a State Penitentiary, commonly know as “The Pen”, “Big House”, or my favorite, “The Joint”. I would always snicker at that term because it was ‘loaded’ with double meanings.
Back to the Gym. When people ask me if I workout; I usually say “Ain’t it obvious?” Well apparently it’s not, or they wouldn’t be asking. When they ask me “Where”, I reply “The Gym”. “The gym?”, they reply, and I tell them the name of my gym is The Gym. Pretty simple, but sometimes people can’t comprehend that and an Abbott and Costello “Who’s on First” routine ensues, and it’s down hill from here. If they’d over medicated themselves (which sometimes accidentally happens to me) a “Niagara Falls” routine would follow.
I started liftin’ weights when I was sixteen years old, and got myself a Health-Ways 110 lb barbell set. I did every exercise in the small training booklet that came with it. Just like the husky guy in the diagrams, I was bench pressing, doing the military press, and tons of curls: wanted them big ‘guns’. [I was unarmed as a P O]. Boy I sure had a lot of testosterone them days. Wonder how many other 60 year old guys rushed out to buy a weight set after getting sand kicked in their faces. That never happened to me after I started “lifting”. And just like the Ad in them matchbook covers….Now I was the sand kicker, not the kickee….Sorry guys.
I didn’t keep lifting throughout the years. I stopped in college after I first learned about the joint. Or else, I would have been massive, awesome like Arnold, and in really good shape. Now I’m like Arnold. No job, and physically deteriorating; I don’t die my hair. But I started liftin’ again, fifteen years ago, and am now still in my prime.
So I go to the GYM just about every morning and workout.
My/The Gym is not a meat-market like a lot of “fitness clubs”. But an older gym, with even older clientele. Which is good if ya just want to stay in shape and want to get more out of Social Security than you ever paid in. Most of the folks there are friendly and into just staying fit. There’s tons of doctors, lawyers, and even a judge working out there. Some of these guys you even get to know pretty well.
Take my Tea Party Buddie, Mick. I sure like to yank his chain with some progressive stuff like, “Old Sarah sure got her tits caught in a wringer with that blood libel shit”. Well having arrived at the Gym with a big dose of Rush Limbaugh already under his belt, he’s ready to rant and usually responds with “You liberals always……” and then goes on with the latest GOP talking points or O’Riley rant. He thinks I’m serious. I’m really just screwin’ with him ( old habits die hard), and pushing every conservative button I know to see him squirm. Although we actually share a lot of fiscally conservative views, when it comes to religion, the intercourse takes on new heights of delight. He accuses me of not believing in God. To which I respond, “Yes I do, I go to church and worship Her every Sunday”. Mick goes ballistic and is usually so shell-shocked, that he stops liftin’ and has to go right home and turn on Fox News…..Don’t exercise much when he’s around, but my funny bone sure gets a good work-out.
So, not only does The Gym, keep me physically awesome, but mentally as well. Some of my best rants get their start in The Gym.