Do The Math
Mornings begin with math.
It’s a brand new day. This is not only a statement of the obvious; it is a promise, it is a second chance, it is the countless possibilities that might happen.
I look at the clock. It is 6:07. I am behind, as this basic math leaves me with only 83 minutes before I have to leave for work. 6 and 7 is thirteen, which is supposedly an unlucky number, but my mother was born on the thirteenth. There is also the 13th Floor Elevators. I was trapped in an elevator with my dog this weekend for 15 minutes. Fifteen minutes of fame, except when trapped and waiting for some disembodied voice from Texas to save you, which doesn’t feel like the best plan. Unfortunately, it is the only plan. We were released from our panic hell in 15 minutes, which is a very short time, and a very long time. Try to tell my panicked self that in an elevator.
The trio. The Mother, The Father, The Itty Bitty Baby. We had one good one. My mother and father had 7 good ones, plus one that didn’t make it. Did “one” ever have a name? It was a miscarriage, so perhaps not. Were there hopes and dreams for “ one” ? Was “ one” to be the first born son or daughter?
Four is spooked. Four is unlucky. Four sounds like death in Chinese. We live on the Penthouse floor, because the builders and realtors did not want a 4th floor. They built four floors, but it was unlucky to call it such. So we live in the Penthouse. It is still four floors down to the pavement.
I am number 5 son. I was born on the first month of the year, on the 24th day in 1958. That makes me 64. In January I will be 65. Dog willing. Our dog is almost 15, which is “long” for a dog. How long? Oh, she’s about 15 inches long. No, long in years, not ears. With her hair cut short and her ears cut long…. Wait. They cut ears? Actually yes, many dogs had their ears cut, or docked as the groomers call it. When we get a hair cut, we say we are having our ears lowered. I always heard that as having our ears, Lord- when I was a child. Thank God for ears.
6: 07. The day has started, and as I succinctly put it in the song WTFM ( Walking Talking Fertile Man) by my band The Judys, “ I wake up. Hit the alarm. Get out of bed. I stretch my arms. I take a piss, I take a pull, I take a shower, then I dress to kill.” Except the games has changed. After I take a #1, which sometimes progresses to #2, and have checked my Facebook, or FateBook, to see if I am still alive, socially speaking, to confirm that I was not cancelled in my sleep, to check on my friends to see that they are all alive and kicking, I now have to do my exercises.
Here is another exercise in math. There were 7 in my family (Mom, Dad, 5 boys and 2 girls.) Mom and Dad are gone and so it my first brother Pat. My Dad died of congestive heart failure at 83, just before his 84th birthday. My Mother died at 96, having outlived my father by 13 unlucky years, and her own Mother by 12 years. My Nana always said she was 85, but came up short by a few months. The truth vs. The Myth. Coming up short is not acceptable in my family. We go for the long game. My parents were married for 62 years, hell they are still married, really, that never changed. My wife and I have been together for 43 years, depending on how one calculates it. I have 43 minutes left now to finish this before I go to work. I still have to make my lunch, get dressed, have a shower before getting dressed, as having it after getting dressed makes for a damp and cold day.
My exercise routine is 30 minutes long. There are 10 exercises of 30 seconds in length, with 30 seconds of marching ( note they call it marching, not walking….hmmm) , then it repeats with a few stretching exercises and a cool down. I do these in the 2nd bedroom, no longer a bedroom since our one good daughter moved out, on a carpet that is 3x5 feet. It is a small rug really, but the point of telling this detail, is that one does not need a lot of space to do these exercises. I listen on my headphones to a video I have been watching and practicing for almost 10 months. The workout video is led by an Australian with two women as students or sidekicks, one on each side of him. One is large sized ( Big Boned as my Mother would have said- a fat broad as my Father would have said) - I know, we don’t say those kinds of words anymore, thankfully. No need to fat shame. The point of having the two extra women is to appeal to the female demographic, and the difference in sizes is to emphasize the aspirational.
Anybody can do this. Exercise I mean. Intentional exercise, I further delineate. Everyone who wakes up moves at some point. If you don’t move….let’s not go there. Yet. I do these exercises since having my bypass. Triple-O bypass, as I jokingly say. My anniversary of this operation is coming up on October 14. Today is October 3, so 11 days. We are three days out of September, the 9 th month, 30 days hath and so on. JUST IN: If you jam so on together, you get soon.
Ten fingers, ten toes. At least I was a healthy baby. Years ago, in another time and centuries back, my ancestors traded their cardiovascular system for good hair. That is the myth. I am the mythster. I now have only 24 minutes to get ready. How I wish I worked less, so I could write more. My word count is thwarted by my so-called needs for money. You know, money, dollars. I have a brother who lived in Texas. No money, dollars. Yes, Dallas Texas. An old Marx Brothers routine. Routines. That is what this is all about. Routines. Nothing up the sleeve. Presto. Heavens to Murgatroyd! Exit Stage Left.
