I am frankly bemused by the excessive media attention paid to the supposed dangers inherent in binge drinking, smoking 40 Marlboro a day, and chomping down on super sized cheeseburgers on a regular basis. Not so very long ago we were digging lumps of coal out of the ground and eating weasels. Why the joys provided by a little affluence should be frowned upon to the extent where one may point at a porker and cry 'you should eat less you fat bastard!' beats me.
Then there are these new fangled gymnasiums, in which one is supposed to enjoy cycling (while going nowhere) next to a fat sweaty Nigel from accounts farting and wheezing his way towards the nirvana of a six pack. Then there are the fat mommas in skin tight Lycra jogging up and down like sea cows on amphetamines. It's all more than a sensitive soul can endure.
The word 'gymnasium' needs to be reclaimed by those of us of a slothful nature. Strolling along with Plato discussing the golden mean between opposing ills, especially when contemplating what type of fried fish would be served with ones olives at luncheon, had its attractions. Admittedly some athletic grunting did go on, but that was strictly the preserve of the meatheads who didn't know their alpha from their omega.
The fable about the tortoise and the hare has always appealed to me. That's right thinking that is, and should be carved in stone above all Health Clubs and gymnasiums.
I didn't get where I am today by needlessly stressing my ligaments and joints.
About Bob Dylan
4 days ago
9 comments:
And would you be strolling along nude, as was the historical practice?
Certainly not. A lot of them Greeks were of the homosexualist persuasion and would jump you in an olive grove given half a chance.
I tried exercise once.
Ended up with a slipped discus.
According to that Wiki article the name comes from the Greek term 'gymnos' meaning naked.
So be grateful that LYCRA was invented before Nigel and the fat mamma came along.
s.i.d
Another woeful pun. I suggest you eat a Marathon (aka Snickers) to get your strength back.
kaz
MJ made a similar point. Wobbling chins are bad enough, watching vast buttocks covered in cellulite wobbling would be purgatory.
Funny, back in the 70s we had ourselves a "marathon" bar, but it was identical to your "curly wurly," not a snickers.
Snicker is what you'd do if you ever saw me huffing and puffing in a gymnasium. Should you ever catch me there, that is.
You could go nude, babe. I'd protect you!
Our Curly Wurly was rubbish. All the chocolate used to flake off as you were eating it and melt on your trousers.
The ancient Greeks didn't have this problem as trousers hadn't been invented then.
We've just joined a gym.
Surprisingly, I'm enjoying it.
I'm not sure why.
*waves at kaz*
you can't really compare 'then' to 'now.' Remember your Symposium. people were originally joined by twos and went about cartwheeling along. then too the vomitorium was in fashion. by this we see that the everyday greek lifestyle combined bulemia and conjoined gymnastics to keep the excess avoirdupois at bay.
*downs another shot*
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