HEARING: WNUA commercial-free radio -- Aaron Neville/Everybody Plays the Fool
Mrs. Linklater hasn’t heard this tune in YEARS. Why now? Let us take a moment for some metaphysical reflection on the lyrics
Everybody plays the fool
There’s no guarantee that the one you love is going to love you.
Everybody plays the fool -- sometime
There’s no exception to the rule
Listen baby
It may be factual it may be cruel
I wanna say it again
Everybody plays the fool
I ain’t lyin
Everybody plays the fool
Okay that's enough.
Metaphysics aside, this is going to be one of those entries full of HTML code the first go round, because Mrs. Linklater wants to write offline. Not that she’s complaining, but can’t AOL hire smarter programmers to figure out how to let us cut and paste from Word without all the <<>> crap that shows up?
<o:p></o:p>
See what she means? That's all the code that's left. But it was EVERYWHERE. She erased all the rest.
Isn’t there a button they can devise for your keyboard that makes HTML code invisible for freaking EVER? Like the wiring in your house. Or the plumbing? Of course, every time Mrs. Linklater uploads from Word to her journal and sees all that code appear, she feels like she’s been taking a shower and suddenly the whole world can see through her shower curtain – oh, and, by the way, there’s a tour coming through.
BUT SHE DIGRESSES.
Today is all about Mrs. Linklater’s attempts to stay in shape, now that she has been told by her doctor that short of a body transplant, which will no doubt be available as soon as they crack that part of the DNA code, her workout days are pretty much toast. Burnt.
Okay, she can swim all she wants. But she feels about swimming the way some people feel about their ex-spouses. Hers included. And besides, it's getting cold out and even indoor pool temperatures feel arctic when the weather chills.
But never underestimate Mrs. Linklater’s determination to find a way to overcome her physical adversity. Since her thinking cap fits better after a bag of Cheetos, she’ll be back in a moment.
Nothing like a jolt of orange dye no.14. Houston, we’re good to go.
Mrs. Linklater often works on the computer, in between rounds of solitaire and forwarding jokes, so why not turn the area around her computer chair into a mini gym?
Inspired by this flash of creativity, she has been galvanized into action, albeit slowly. First she went down to the basement and brought up some three-pound hand weights. What? You have a problem with LIGHT weights? Sorry, Mrs. Linklater doesn’t do heavy anymore. No more heavy sauces, heavy make up, heavy water, heavy relationships, heavy thoughts or heavy lifting.
Mrs. Linklater’s delicate condition [which is so NOT pregnant] means that, for her, less is more.
Besides she doesn’t want any weights that are too big, she might sweat. No point leaving salt stains on all her electronic devices, some of which actually serve a purpose.
Needless to say, getting the weights upstairs took a lot out of her. And they sat next to her chair for a month. Like good cheddar, Mrs. Linklater was all about the aging process. Then she realized that while she continued to get older, she was not getting better. So, one morning, she moved the weights from one side of her chair to the other.
No reason to overdo it.
But the other day, inspiration really struck. She tripped over the weights. Damn. So she picked them up to move them someplace else for crying out loud and realized that one of her favorite songs was playing.
Instead of putting the weights up on a shelf, where it could be argued they belonged, she sat in her chair and did three minutes of curls. And three more minutes after that – a commercial free music hour had just started and the songs just kept on coming. Triceps, biceps, shoulder raises, wrist curls -- she was having some fun now.
Now she can be found sitting in her chair doing nine sets of fifteen reps in front of the computer while it uploads a file. Oh, did she mention she discovered she can do this nude? Here was yet another benefit of her home computer gym. [Besides using the weights to hold down paper.] Now there was no need to track down a clean pair of shorts or a shirt or sports bra or socks or shoes anymore. Or find a water bottle. Or locate her gym bag. Or suck in her belly like the old days at her health club. [Oh, and YOU never walked around doing that?]
Before anyone thinks Mrs. Linklater wants to parlay this nude work out venture into some kind of webcam pay per view financial bonanza, let her just say that it did cross her mind. But her children have threatened to put her in a home if she mentions it again.
Her private life aside, Mrs. Linklater has proved that if SHE can work out at her computer, anybody can. All it takes is a good look in the mirror at your burgeoning Jabba the Hut girth and you'll be hooked.
It's the ultimate in multi-tasking synergy. Working, working out. Even the words are similar.
And there's that clothing free component, too.
Mrs. Linklater feels she has brought new meaning to something. When she finds out what that is, you’ll be the first to know.
2 comments:
Mrs. L, what a great idea. Although your children put the kaibosh(sp?) on the web cam, perhaps they would consider the greater good, and let you make a tape-sort of semi-private- to share with those of us for whom the gym is also becoming a distant memory. Margo
Considering that I'm still in the dark ages of dial-up over here, I could become like Ahhnnoold if I pumped iron while waiting for things to download.
just don't get into the 'roids, sweetie. --Albert
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