Just a short post tonight (or rather this morning)…
So, the last gym class that I would have was during my sophomore year in high school. That’s not to say that I wasn’t an active kid. Quite the opposite. Under several different names, Ted Roberts (drums), Mark Moore (bass guitar), Jerry Fontaine (lead guitar/vocals), Wayne Burns (frontman/vocals), myself (keyboards/vocals) and numerous stand-in guests formed a rock band and played occasional gigs at parties, bars, and venues I still haven’t been able to describe. To be honest, almost every one in the band got a workout playing “roadie” duties except for the drummer. It was amazing how much time Mr. Ted could waste dilly-dallying while the rest of us hauled not only our own gear in…but his drum kit, too. I only pick on him because he’s one of my best friends…and he deserves it.
After graduating high-school, I reconnected with my friend Chuck Ransom who had been attending Tennessee Tech in Cookeville, TN. He was back in LaVergne and living just a few houses down the street from me. Chuck and I met in the first grade…and are friends…forever.
Chuck had met a young lady and decided he needed to do some exercising and try to get his body looking a little better than it was. Chuck, just like myself had taken on the sedentary lifestyle both in vocation and home life. Our plan was to work-out with some free weights and run laps around the block. A pretty simple plan for our start. I sat out on an overcast day, cool temperature but not cold…I’m going to “run” around the block. I barely made it to the end of our street. I invented the phrase “sucking dirt” on that day back in 1980-something. We’re talking the distance of no more than ten houses before I simply couldn’t breathe. I didn’t stop. I walked. I walked fast. I walked slow. I considered crawling at one point. I tried running again (dumb idea). I did what it took to make it around our chosen path and back to the refuge of my bedroom. A room that at times I would describe with four-letter words followed by the word hole. But at this moment…it was the Taj Mahal.
Anyone remember the Fat Boys? I’m young. I’m thinking, “I’m overweight, been sitting around too long…I’ll try again.”
I’m nineteen years old (technically still a teenager)…and the genetics of countless generations have begun the transformation. Nineteen and invincible, right?
Just a few more years…we’ll see.