Resolve

Just because I have no resolutions of my own doesn’t mean that I don’t have resolutions for other people. And they’re not for celebrities (I’ll leave that to Cindy Adams or someone from the New York Post) or for my own friends or family. No, they’re for “ordinary” people I don’t even know but who I think could really benefit from an overhaul.
This idea came to me while on the treadmill at the gym this afternoon. (By the way, the sauna suit is great! I just covered the big red Bally’s® patch with a name tag that declared “Hello, My Name is Penelope! Happy New Year!” and no one was the wiser!) A guy, probably about 55, passed in front of me (coming from my right, just so you can picture it) on his way to the mat area, and as he did so, he stared at me with what he must have thought was a sexy leonine hunger in his watery eyes. I had nowhere to look, really, but straight at him, but I have this marvelous way of looking right through someone who repulses me. So I did it. He looked back at me as if to say, “Take a good look at me as I pass, young lady. You’re gonna love what you see.”
And then he passed completely. All 5’6″ (my height), 150 pounds (not my weight), shiny spandex shorts and matching tank top of him. All fuzzy reddish thinning hair of him. All white socks pulled up his calves of him. All no “athletic shoes” of him.
That was the kicker. And that was what, aside from the rest of his horrid appearance, made me hate him above all else and got me fantasizing. No, not about the meat ‘n’ potatoes (really all potatoes and no meat, if you really want to know) he had on display, but about the various things he should resolve for 2003.
So, Jackie Mason, Jr., if you’re out there reading this, and you haven’t yet made your list of resolutions, I’ve taken the liberty of doing so. You see, I may have appeared to ignore you at the gym, but that doesn’t mean you made no impression. Here is your list, in no particular order of urgency:

  • You will buy another ensemble to wear at the gym. This isn’t the first time I’ve seen you, and it probably won’t be the last, so if we’re going to be forced to share the same space, the least you could do is make sure I don’t have to see the hideous outline of your crotch. Or your underarms. Something in a nice, looser, breathable fabric (Coolmax® is really neat!) would be a welcome change.

  • You will start wearing acceptable socks. The tall ones you have make you look like a demented schoolgirl. In addition, any socks you do wear in 2003 should be clean. Which brings me to …
  • You will wear athletic shoes while at the gym. How did you do your cardio? Were you wearing Dansk clogs, like the slouchy broad I saw heading toward the elliptical trainers?
  • You will never, ever, under any circumstances — I don’t care if someone’s threatening to gouge out your eyes with a melon-baller or standing over you with a gun to your frizzy head — do a headstand in public again. Especially a headstand where you spread your matted-hairy legs apart in a “V”.

Actually, if you prefer to keep it simple, you can just make one resolution:

  • You will join another gym.

Happy New Year!