An Exercise in Futility 12/04/2020

As far as I can tell there are two schools of thought when it comes to exercise. There’s the “Oh My God, I’d Rather Stick Burning Embers Under My Fingernails” school and there’s the “No Day is Complete Unless I Get My Work Out In” school. I belong to the second (in case you’re wondering, golf in an electric cart counts). I will workout unless the weather outside is particularly terrible. And in that case, I’ve got a gym in walking distance. But then Covid hit. And it turns out my local gym reported a case of Covid. And it turns out, the person who got Covid lives in my building. On my floor. And it turns out, we play golf together every Friday in the nice weather, so now it’s back to exercising outside. My friend, by the way, is recovering nicely. And I hurriedly got a test and it was negative. So unsurprisingly, both of this week’s comics have to do with how to get and stay in shape during the pandemic.

One way is to order one of those treadmills which promise the experience of a gym class (think spin class but on a treadmill) in the privacy of your home. Now I know people love them, but, if you’ve ever taken a gym class, you can find much to hate about them as well. Hell, some of them are even called “boot camps.” No thank you very much. John and I discussed it and we found different things to hate. For me, it was the instructor with the headset and microphone yelling at me over the blaring disco music. Disco music? Who the hell listens to disco music anymore? Apparently, these people do. Or maybe it’s not called disco anymore. Maybe it’s EDM (electronic dance music for you old farts) but whatever, it was a horrible experience I will never repeat. For John, it was the yelling. But screaming, virtual instructors aside, these things are amazing. You can walk, you can hike (can somebody please explain the difference to me?), you can jog or run, you can look at the instructor as she/he implores/induces/screams at you to keep going. Hell, you can even have the virtual instructor take over the machine for you and make the incline harder as they he/she/they ramps up the speed while you watch the sun set over the Cinque Terra instead of watching the screaming virtual instructor. Well, you get the drift.

The other comic this week stems from a story I told John about a sweatshirt I bought when staying in Westwood, CA, to shoot a commercial. Having some free time one day, I roamed the UCLA campus and went into the bookstore and bought a UCLA sweatshirt, which to this day remains one of my favorite sweatshirts to work out in. Except. Except I never attended UCLA, never thought about going there, my kids didn’t go there, my wife didn’t go there, nobody I’m related to went there, and almost every time I wear the damn thing and go out for a walk or jog, someone gives me a thumbs up and yells something about the school, like Go Bruins! And I fail to react because I don’t even realize they’re talking to me until several steps later, at which point they’ve written me off as a complete jerk. So now, it has become the sweatshirt of last resort, unless I can cover it up with a down vest or a parka. Upon hearing this story, John (who loves to laugh at my expense) had already written and done a rough sketch of the comic.

So that’s it for this week as we roar into December and the holiday season. Stay safe and thanks for being such a good and loyal audience. We really appreciate it, and that’s no joke.

Andy and John