Poetic License

Today was a good day.

My son and I went out to grab breakfast at a favorite local restaurant – The Pancake House in Shelby. It’s a simple place, unpretentious, with good food and friendly wait staff. Breakfast for two for less than $20. Take that, McDonalds. After breakfast, I went to the gas pumps at the grocery store and saved 15 cents a gallon using my loyalty card. As fas as I can tell, having that loyalty card doesn’t end up causing spam to hit my email or phone, but it does get me targeted coupons (sometimes) at the checkout, and it saves me on gas and certain grocery items that are on special. I generally save anywhere from $5 to $20 for a weekly run, and in today’s tough economy, I’ll take it.

We went uptown after I filled my tank to check out the local farmer’s market. We loaded up with good-sized yellow squash and fresh, organic lettuce. I think we spent $14, and we have lettuce to last us the week. After the market, we popped over to the YMCA, where I just joined last week as a senior (I’ll take any discounts I can get). I asked for and got a tour of the facilities so I’ll know where I’m going on Monday when I join the water aerobics class. While we were there, Sean asked about prices for him. I hadn’t expected him to want to join, but he did. The last time we went to a gym together was when he was a kid, and we were living in Mount Airy, MD.

At that gym back in the early 2000s, we spent a lot of time in the pool. I learned to swim there, though I never got over my fear of the deep water. I like to put my feet on the bottom when I feel like it. My son and I used to play H-O-R-S-E with a water basketball and the net that was positioned at the side of the pool. We would race each other in the swimlanes. We had a lot of fun there before our family fell completely apart. I think we’ll have an equal amount of fun this time.

It will be good for both of us, and I am looking forward to having something to look forward to every Monday morning. I’ve adjusted my hours at work so that I can go in two hours late, since the shallow water aerobics don’t start until 9:00 AM. Other than Mondays, we’ve decided we’ll choose two other days to go, to either take a yoga class or work out in the wellness room, where all the machines are.

My commitment to getting to the gym – as well as some other changes – has come from my last couple of months of therapy. For a long time, I have said, “I’d love to take a water aerobics class, but they are always held in the morning during my work day, so I can’t go. I’ll do that when I retire.”

When I retire? Will I even be able to do all the things I want to do when I retire? Why not now? Why not take advantage of the energy I do have now to build more strength and energy to keep me going? It’s just one of the wonderful benefits that has come from working with my new therapist. I have learned so much.

I had to laugh when I left the Y, though, because we had to read the rules and agree to them. One of the rules says you can’t use foul language or swear words at the Y. I mean, I knew that already, but if you knew me, you would know that’s going to be a tough one if I – say – run my foot into a post or something. The F bomb comes to me as naturally as breathing. BUT, I know I need to cut out the colorful language. As a kid, I knew better. Mom would wash my mouth out with soap (literally) if she heard me say what she considered to be a bad word. Even my father, with all his anger issues, would twist a sort-of word around the insinuation of a swear word: Gol-dern-it! What the hell does that mean? I mean, I know, but it’s so silly. Words are just words. Unless you’re using them to belittle, manipulate, or hurt someone, they are just words. But as I type this, it occurs to me that some words are not just words. Racial, homophobic, and xenophobic slurs are just wrong – I guess unless we are saying them to our own ilk in a teasing manner.

So I’ll curb the potty mouth when I go to the gym. I’ll do my best, goshdarnit.

We have a storm blowing in right now at my house. The electricity in the air, the coolness, the roar of it! We need it, as I have come to say so often in my older years. Today was brutally hot. I didn’t go to our Pride picnic, mainly because of the heat, but also I much prefer the street festival we’ll have in October. At today’s picnic, there was supposed to be potluck-style food. I think heat plus potluck food can result in food poisoning, and my stomach has been a little delicate lately. But I did miss out on the fellowship. I might join the local group, though, to be their scribe. They are advertising for one. I’ve reached out.

Lots of changes are happening in my life. It’s all good. It’s all taking me in a new and better direction.

Now go enjoy the rest of your weekend, pickleheads!

Namaste,
Jude