2.11.2008

I think I might be the first person to say this but, teens have no respect.

They also are oblivious to the standard rules of the Library. I am listening to some full-volume-idiotic cell phone conversation right now. It's bleeding through my new Philips noise cancelling earbuds. I'd kick some A** but I am afraid of groups of teens. Alone they are weak and insecure but together they form a powerful superconductor that translates insecure energies into supersonic interference.

Yesterday I spent nine hours at the Los Angeles Athletic Club for the group fitness certification.
As an aside, if anyone is interested in helping me bring my dream of air guitar aerobics to the world, I am looking for investors. I was stoked that it was at the LAAC because I have been dying to see the inside of it but never had the pocket change to pay for the parking garage or the gumption to finagle a tour. The place has some excellent photos of strong men in unitards holding dumbbells, the kind of dumbbells men used before interchangeable weights.

They throw a hundred wanna-be aerobics instructors in the gymnasium (the same one many famous athletes trained in. Many of them probably from my favorite historical moment, the 84 Olympics) This is the kind of gym that has a track above it so the gym members that were there for a Sunday workout were treated to watching 100 ladies and three men practice warm-up and cardio choreography.

For the final test you have to perform a three minute warm-up routine, a four minute cardio routine, and a one minute cool-down. Here is the kicker: everybody, all one hundred plus, is divided into three groups and sectioned off in the same gymnasium. And everyone has to do their routine at the same time. No one is leading. It’s just mayhem. So picture three sets of 35 people doing their own aerobics thing (not just dancing, that would be like a rave) to some really crappy techno music while the towel guy and some older dudes from the LAAC look on from the top track. After that part is over the examiners shout, “now show me a strength exercises for the gluteus maximus, now one for the rhomboid….” And everyone has to simulate movements like they are holding weights or resistance bands.

It was probably one of the most amazing things I have participated in in a long time (and that saying a lot since the day before I had just participated in the shoot for the second episode of TBABC). I wish I could have videotaped the exam part. Framed just so, the whole ordeal would have looked like a perverse internment camp activity. Now I am going to have to go to all the trouble of getting back into the class just for videotaping purposes. I need some more material for my upcoming short film titled “Towel Boy and Group Girl.”

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