Saturday, June 9, 2012

Exercise a.k.a. Torture to the masses

A couple of posts ago I wrote about my foray into the hallowed halls of the YMCA. This has nothing against the Y, let me get that disclaimer out there right at the start.  No, this is more about the real life things that happen to an old broad who decides to enter those hallowed halls to become more flexible and flowing (that's a laugh).

I've been at the Y for several months now, and I will admit, I am able to maneuver better than before I joined.  Since that first day I've learned a lot about the "protocols" of today's "Exercise Routines".  In every room at the Y there is some sort of assistant/teacher/facilitator/guru/ whatever.  They have the very best of intentions for all the participants in said class.  However, being a place filled with humans you get these little splinter groups within the classes.  In high school we used to call them, "cliques", but we're all pretty old so I don't think that's the correct terminology...I might be wrong.

Because I'm an observer I've taken to watch some of the actions of these folks. It's pretty interesting.  We're all out of shape. Some are too fat. Some are too skinny. Some have no teeth (no lie). Some bring their assistants with them. Some bring their service dogs with them (I like the service dogs the best).  All of these woman (and I have to talk about the women because it seems to me they are the worst offenders of this, for want of a better word, "clique-ness") can get their "nickers in a twist" in less than a second.  If one of them thinks they're in any way being slighted you can actually see claws forming on the ends of the fingers...I've learned to keep my mouth shut and step away. It's incredible.  These are grown Mothers, Grandmothers and Great-Grandmothers and they still act as though they were in high school...I don't get it.

The locker rooms are a riot.  You see everything there, as you should, it's a locker room. It's also the place where you hear the most outlandish tales and stories.  There's enough things discussed there on a daily basis to write a short book everyday.  The information I've garnered in the last few months has been amazing.  I think I could probably heal all ailments sent my way.  Everyone of the women in that locker room knows some kind of healing for something or other.  That's no joke and I'm thinking about bringing a notebook starting tomorrow to keep some of these little tidbits of information for future reference.

Although, I have to tell you, the women I'm taking about are all of a "certain" age.  They've lived their lives and can do whatever the Hell they want, they've earned the right.  Some of the other women haven't earned their stripes yet but they think they have.  I see the older bunch looking, listening and nodding their heads with a tiny smile hovering on their lips. They know, they know, the younger ones have to go through the Hell fires a bit longer until they've earned their stripes in the army of the "Women of a Certain Age".  If the young ones are lucky they'll get there.

It's a very interesting place "The YMCA"...

to be continued...

OK All Right, I get it, I'm old....

One of my posts regarding the employees of today reminded me of the old folks who used to tell me they walked to school in the snow up hill both ways. At that time I thought they were old and decripit and what the Hell did they know about anything. Now, I find I'm in the same boat as they were so many years ago. I'm the old fool who's complaining about "the kids of today".

I read that post and laughed, for a very short time before realizing most of us as we age come to an understanding about new and different things we see on a daily basis. We don't like change much as we age, but I wonder if that's going to be the case of these younger folks of today. Will the be more adaptable than we were? They've had to do things at warp speed with technology and gadgets we never had to deal with at all.


I understand how difficult it is to accept change, but I also know it must be accepted if we are to live life in this different world than the one we came from. It's difficult at best when we must navigate through all sorts of pages of internet spew and telephone menues only to have a foreign voice on the other end try to understand what we're trying to ask when we don't know quite how to ask whatever it is we want to know.

All of that being said, there is still a void in the marketplace for intelligent life as we know it. People are accepted if they're warm bodies. If they can do some of the work that's a bonus. You rarely find folks these days who are able to do something from start to finish (correctly) without having to make several phone or computer follow-ups to be sure the work is done correctly. It's a challenge at best.

It's too bad they can't all be perfect like me.....

What's with all the changes??

I know it's been an while since I sat down to note the things happening around me, so I have to expect changes, but honestly, I don't get it... Whatever happened to, "If it ain't broken don't fix it"?  It seems that everything, everywhere is in some sort of flux because of changes to systems, navigation, phones, jobs, clothing styles, likes or dislikes of different architecture, you name it I can't keep up.  To tell the truth I'm at the point where I'm going to sit back and watch it all come tumbling down, because that's what happens to all the "new and improved" stuff. It all becomes junk, old and redundant over time.

Nothing becomes ancient as quickly as technology.  I've really given up the chase on technology.  By the time I want to own something that's on the market and I've done my research the item is no longer the state of the art, for that matter, the first time I saw the item it was obsolete already.  The good thing about that is, by the time I finally decide to spring to buy it, it's cheap.  It's old technology.

My desktop computer finally died...I called tech service to ask if they could diagnose the problem, after exhausting all my ideas at a fix.  The young man on the other end of the phone was not from this country (big surprise!).  He was a very nice young man and he and I got along very well. I am quite adept at understanding men speaking with marbles in their mouth.  It was a trial at first, then I remembered to listen as though I was underwater. I'm convinced I have some extra hairs in my ears that perk up to assist me at times like these. I must have developed them after living with Larry for the last 45 years. It's an evolution thing, I'm guessing.

So the computer... Nice little Indian man tries to explain what he thinks is wrong with the computer.  He's telling me all this jargon about USB's, Ethernet cables, junction boxes, routers, modems, you name it in computer-ease and he's spouted it to me... I knew what he was talking about but unfortunately what he was talking about was in a computer that is a "slightly" newer version than mine.

After several minutes where he didn't let me get a word in edgewise, I stopped him and explained what I had.  I distinctly heard...nothing...absolute silence... He must have regained his composure because about 3 minutes later he said to me, "Would you mind repeating your system's specifications again? I don't think I've ever known anyone who is still using that kind on machine.  I must check some very old manuals to check on some things.  Hmm...perhaps I'll need to call my Father for some help...hmm...Please hold ma'am. I'll be right back".  I know I heard him guffaw as he went away from the phone....and I'm sure I heard others in that office laughing like Hell.

He came back shortly and gave me some directions to check some other things on the computer. Don't ask me what I did. I was a robot doing whatever was asked of me...He spoke I did the work...
It was determined that my system had bit the dust...It could be used for some things, but not to get into the Internet without some serious bucks being added to the unit.  The old thing was tossed aside and my newer laptop became the primary information gatherer.  This laptop is over four years old and you know it's old as can be, but to me it's just a baby.

Why must everything be so disposable?  I know the economy needs people to buy, buy, buy, but what about the folks who put themselves in debt because they thing they have to have the newest, best, better things?  How about me, the old fart, who is on a limited income and can't afford to drop thousands on new junk (and you know it's junk)?

Even when you do get new stuff, within a few weeks you're yelled at to buy enhancing stuff for what you bought that you thought was the "newest, best, better".  It's a vicious cycle, a never ending cycle.  It's time to put the brakes on for me.  I'm making some changes in my outlook.  I'm not buying into all this crap. I've had enough of it.

I'll continue to limp along with the technological stuff I have and maybe, if something really does literally break apart, I'll buy a replacement, but it better be cheap, that's all I can say...