‘My New Workout Buddy’

I had a great workout yesterday. Normally I’d spend forty-five minutes on the treadmill and all the while watching some ridiculous television rerun.  I’ve been doing my workouts every other day for the last year and a half but as time goes by it becoming more of a boring task than a healthy approach to my life. On top of that I’m tired of hearing myself bitching and complaining about it endlessly. I’ve discovered over the years that I have the uncanny ability to annoy even myself and not just others.

With the upcoming cutting of my TV umbilical cord I’ve begun taking steps to prepare myself for what I’m sure will be a certain amount of withdrawal from my life-long television addiction.  It will difficult I’m sure but absolutely necessary.

‘I’d judge that as a 9.5’

I’ve turned away from my exercising in front of the television to embracing an old love . . . music. I’ve never considered turning to music  on the treadmill because I’ve always loved music and hated mandatory exercise. Mixing the two seemed somehow wrong. I was forced to rethink my entire approach to these things because cable television is making me insane.

I’ve had an IPod full of thousands of songs for years but have used it sparingly.  I’ve always disliked wearing ear buds because the accompanying loss of hearing of my surroundings makes me wary and uncomfortable. Yesterday I jumped on the treadmill, put in my ear buds, and turned on my IPod. The silence of the world was replaced for the first twenty minutes by those politically incorrect Dixie Chicks who pissed me off years ago as they did a large segment of the country. I still love their music but detest their political naiveté.

‘President Bush’s Fav’s’

The next twenty-five minutes were consumed by the late darling of the British Isles, Amy Winehouse.  I love her brash lyrics and low and sexy sound.  She made the remaining time fly by and I actually found myself totally entranced by her music and my memories of her. It was wonderful.

I guess I accomplished three things yesterday.  I kicked my TV habit, I had a kick-ass workout, and I began a new love affair with my IPod and Ms. Winehouse.

To quote one of Amy’s lyrics, "Where is my moral parallel?". My answer is the same as hers . . ."I have none."

FADE TO BLACK