Extra Crispy
Sep. 22nd, 2008 03:09 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
penfield"Football is a mistake. It combines the two worst elements of American life: Violence and committee meetings."
- George F. Will
Today, while burning untold calories on the eliptical machine in my apartment's fitness center, I saw something I had never seen before.
A young man, by my guess 18 or 19 years old, came into the gym attired in such a way as to skirt the line between urban-casual and workout wear. Without stretching, he hopped aboard a stationary bicycle and turned on the television. (Each cardiovascular exercise machine in our fitness center is equipped with an individually mounted television set, complete with cable lineup.)
And he just sat there. For something like fifteen minutes straight, he just sat there and watched television. My guess is that he was watching the early afternoon football game. (I recalled a similar-looking person watching the Redskins game on one of the gym's wall-mounted televisions the previous week, while sitting on the bench of a nautilus machine.)
Speculating further, I imagined that he was taking advantage of television or cable service to which he was not entitled at home. Or perhaps his parental authority figure was somehow preventing him from watching the game on his family television. Or maybe just being in the gym made him feel a little less guilty about watching television in the first place.
After those 15 minutes, he left his post at the exercise bike. When he returned about ten minutes later, he had with him a bucket of fried chicken. He got back on the bike and started chowing down. I think I saw him start to peddle once, but it may simply have been an inadvertent demonstration of sympathetic physical solidarity with an operative Redskins player.
At first, I resented this young man. Not only was he monopolizing fitness center equipment for his own shiftless purposes, his conspicuous consumption was a bald-faced mockery of physical fitness itself.
But when my heavy-handed disdain subsided, I realized that he represented something larger and more important. This young man was the living, breathing, chewing embodiment of American freedom.
The football game is a perfect example of not only our 20th century military-technological struggle, but also our thirst for entertainment that glorifies teamwork, violence and hero worship. The bucket of chicken represents our indulgent, even decadent carnivorous appetites. The unused exercise equipment represents the bountiful opportunity that is all around us -- indeed, under our own feet. And the choice to combine all of these elements speaks to good old fashioned American ingeniuity, opportunism and know-how.
It was practically perfect in its majesty and sadness. I could not have imagined it better if I had been writing a National Lampoon movie.
And so, I salute you, fried-chicken eating football watching exercise bike sitter. Without a word, you speak to that which makes America great: the illusion of hard work.
- George F. Will
Today, while burning untold calories on the eliptical machine in my apartment's fitness center, I saw something I had never seen before.
A young man, by my guess 18 or 19 years old, came into the gym attired in such a way as to skirt the line between urban-casual and workout wear. Without stretching, he hopped aboard a stationary bicycle and turned on the television. (Each cardiovascular exercise machine in our fitness center is equipped with an individually mounted television set, complete with cable lineup.)
And he just sat there. For something like fifteen minutes straight, he just sat there and watched television. My guess is that he was watching the early afternoon football game. (I recalled a similar-looking person watching the Redskins game on one of the gym's wall-mounted televisions the previous week, while sitting on the bench of a nautilus machine.)
Speculating further, I imagined that he was taking advantage of television or cable service to which he was not entitled at home. Or perhaps his parental authority figure was somehow preventing him from watching the game on his family television. Or maybe just being in the gym made him feel a little less guilty about watching television in the first place.
After those 15 minutes, he left his post at the exercise bike. When he returned about ten minutes later, he had with him a bucket of fried chicken. He got back on the bike and started chowing down. I think I saw him start to peddle once, but it may simply have been an inadvertent demonstration of sympathetic physical solidarity with an operative Redskins player.
At first, I resented this young man. Not only was he monopolizing fitness center equipment for his own shiftless purposes, his conspicuous consumption was a bald-faced mockery of physical fitness itself.
But when my heavy-handed disdain subsided, I realized that he represented something larger and more important. This young man was the living, breathing, chewing embodiment of American freedom.
The football game is a perfect example of not only our 20th century military-technological struggle, but also our thirst for entertainment that glorifies teamwork, violence and hero worship. The bucket of chicken represents our indulgent, even decadent carnivorous appetites. The unused exercise equipment represents the bountiful opportunity that is all around us -- indeed, under our own feet. And the choice to combine all of these elements speaks to good old fashioned American ingeniuity, opportunism and know-how.
It was practically perfect in its majesty and sadness. I could not have imagined it better if I had been writing a National Lampoon movie.
And so, I salute you, fried-chicken eating football watching exercise bike sitter. Without a word, you speak to that which makes America great: the illusion of hard work.
