So now that I have the time to write to you each day (or so as the case may be), Iâ€™ve been thinking about what interesting parts of my life that I should share with you, my surrogate coworkers. Iâ€™ve decided that Iâ€™ll start with the things we might talk about at the water cooler, like what we did last night, the Lost Season Finale, or how mad we are that it doesnâ€™t look like Eli Stone is coming back.
As you may or may not know, I attend Jazzercise with a girlfriend twice a week. Yes, Jazzercise still exists, and no, Iâ€™m not at all embarrassed to share my hobby with you, because itâ€™s awesome and you know that youâ€™re secretly jealous.
This week in my Monday night class my girlfriend brought her husband along for the fitness of it all. While Jazzercise is not necessarily a gender specific activity, it is not one that, at least in my experiences, is often frequented by the fellas.
So we donâ€™t embarrass her husband, letâ€™s call him Jason. As Jason was attempting to get comfortable in a room with a dozen or so women in different stages of fitness wearing snug fitting and brightly colored lycra costumes, the dance music began. It was time to stretch and warm up. I saw him look confusedly around the room as the women started marching and stretching in unison. When he searched frantically for the instructorâ€™s feet to figure out where to put his own, I held in my giggle, because, well, thatâ€™s no way to welcome a new-comer to your class! Throughout the class Jason stumbled over his own feet in an attempt to do the grapevine, and high-kicks, and then threw it into high gear when Vanessa Hudgens came on the boom box with â€œCome Back to Meâ€ for the ever-important chest-thrusts. While I watched him bouncing along with the 30-something gaggle of women in exasperation and exhaustion, I gathered that he wasnâ€™t necessarily there for his own manly urge to dance and perhaps there was a greater motivator. This was clearly a gift he was giving to his wife and I was genuinely moved that he would do that for her.
My girlfriend certainly didnâ€™t insist that Jason come along with her, but in support of her hobby, he found himself well outside his comfort zone and doing the triplet leg pumps in the back of a recreation room until 8:45pm. If thatâ€™s not love, I donâ€™t know what is.
People do selfless things for their loved ones all the time and those sorts of activities never quite get the recognition they deserve.
Do you remember when Eli Stone took back the aneurism from his brother because he wanted him to have a better life â€“ that he placed a higher value on his brotherâ€™s life and happiness than on his own? Of course you donâ€™tâ€¦ no one was watching Eli Stone except me apparently. Well, it was a good example of selflessness in a magical television reality. Now that I put it that way, I understand a little more why I might have been the only one watching it.
The news is full of real life horror stories, but I think we should share our bright spots with one another, even though the things we do for each other cannot be quantified or measured. Maybe itâ€™s because we canâ€™t hold up a score card that we donâ€™t keep track, but I think if we gave these selfless moments some good PR thereâ€™d be a whole lot more of them to go around. Just thinking about the things my husband does to make me happy puts a smile on my face, but then again, maybe itâ€™s just the picture in my head of Jason step-ball-changing while pumping his arms enthusiastically to a Katherine McPhee song that is making me giggleâ€¦ itâ€™s hard to know.
Feel free to give me a ring to catch up if you have a moment, in fact swing by if you like. Iâ€™m making a spicy chicken and shrimp pasta tonight and thereâ€™s always plenty for last minute guests!