The Little Inn for the Big Boys
From the Don't Make Waves collection on sale at ebay, item 170858491493
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Laree and I never have a dull moment: writing, recording, editing, publishing; advising, managing, creating, inventing; supporting, advancing, controlling, mending. Add my twitching, scratching, coughing, staring, forgetting and remembering, and there’s little time for anything else. Throughout our action-packed and complex lives, we share everything. Our lives are open books; nothing is hidden, we hold no secrets.
Get this: Neither of us, Laree nor I, has ever had a Big Gulp, the rage of New York City. Soda, in fact, has not crossed our lips since we met over 25 years ago. Keenly aware, are we, of the evils that lurk therein: obesity, tooth decay, hyperactivity, acne, debilitating quick-fix sudden-satisfaction syndrome.
The slug of death, Satan’s potent: We know better.
Still… It is absolutely absurd when powers outside us, outside our inner powers, barge in to govern what or how much we consume (crystal meth an exception). The Big Apple, the Big Gulp and the little law that was… seriously. Soon the Golden State, the Giant Glub and legislation-lite delight… You’ve got to be kidding.
We The People don’t need another law, rule and regulation. Let’s hear it for common sense and self-control and personal care! How about a delicate conversation with the severe offenders: Hello. Anybody in there? That’s your plate, not a trough. That’s your mouth, a miraculous device for smiling, whistling and whispering sweet nothings, a delicate instrument for freedom of speech. It is not a chute to a vast cookie warehouse.
… Laree says I’ll live to regret my wisecracks…
Life’s a gift, not a piece a cake; a challenge, not a slice of pie. Do you not have an ounce of respect, a gram of responsibility, a speck of discipline, a crumb of goodness? Oh! You ate them all. Swell! Here’s a napkin, you have a smidge of gluttony on your chinny chin chin.
… pass me the donuts and gravy… hiccup…
Here’s another all-time record-busting doozy: I have never eaten a Big Mac. How’s them apples? Sounds almost anti-American.
My dietary austerity started when I was 21 and moved from Jersey to California. During the first six weeks on the west coast, I lived in a small warehouse with a refrigerator as the only appliance. Nothing new there, the previous three years I lived in a rented room with a bed and a dresser, a shared toilet down the hall and no refrigerator. I did have a bench, a bar and 300 pounds of weights at the foot of my mattress. Gotta love Secaucus, NJ.
Two eggs in a spot of half-and-half was my breakfast, a can of tuna was my lunch and the iron was my dinner and dessert. Of course there was The Little Inn, the Swedish Smorgasbord across the street from the Dungeon. I had never before experienced a smorgasbord -- all the meatballs and salad I could eat for, like, a $1.29.
Gee, governments could gorge themselves on the all-you-can-eat buffets spread across the nation.
I’m going to the gym while it’s still legal.
The heat is on. The sun’s doing its thing. The blaze is everywhere this Sunday, luring folks to the parks and beaches to frolic and be free. Perf. I’ll slip down Highway 1, slide into the gym and drift away. No one will be there, just me, myself and I, and the oldies from the ’60s echoing in the cool background of my mind.
Getting to the gym matters. What you do counts. How you do it makes all the difference in the world. Passion, rhythm and wisdom, devotion to motion, immediate and lasting focus, and whatever might you can muster ’n apply without damage, harm or destruction. Now you’ve got it. Have fun.
There are days when the thought of a workout is mind-numbing and bone-crushing. Do I hafta?
Once that’s resolved and you’re there, the first set is a respectful clap on the back. The second is a devoted embrace. The third is a lovable bear hug followed by an assuring body slam and the good fight is on. By the end of the swell encounter, better friends than ever, you commit to meet again soon… after some good food and rest and anti-inflammation medications… lots of delicious, nutritious musclebuilding Bomber Blend… some puppy love… prayer.
Leg day for lifters over 70 with compromised bodies and body parts is not the weekly highlight.
This is what I, DD, did dare do, Doctor:
Four tri-sets: Rope-tucks/lat pull-in combo (30/10 reps), leg presses (2.5, 4.5. 6.5, 8.5 plates total; 30, 25, 20, 12 reps), calf thrusts (high reps for searing burn... hisssss)
Four supersets: wrist curls and machine dips (low reps, 8 -12, all my might, which is nothing to brag about, Mama.)
I shall go home and lay on a cool slab till the ME completes his report…
God loves us… Dave
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The former World Gym Santa Cruz is for sale. Here’s the ad Marie, the current owner, is running on Craigslist:
Ever want to own your own gym?
Selling everything you would ever need -- former World Gym needs a new location!
Cybex, Hammer Strength, Body Masters, custom equipment, squat racks, dumbbells, barbells, thick bars, flooring, mirrors, lockers, stereo equipment, Cardio Theater sound equipment, commercial fridge, espresso machine, enough equipment to fill 1,500 sq ft cardio area, weight equipment can fill 6,500 sq feet. Photos here: weightroomsantacruz.com.
$70,000, or best offer. Original value $250,000+
Email: [email protected]
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