Jack the Gym Friend

Back in 2009 when I was training for my first triathlon, I met an older gentleman named Jack at the gym.  (By older gentleman, I mean that Jack is in his late 80's.  He's quite proud of the fact that he is still working out when most of his contemporaries are too feeble to do so-- or dead.)  He was usually out in the pool at the same time I was.  Over the next couple of years (before I gave up the swimming due to the messed up shoulder) I got to talk to him quite often.  Jack is extremely gregarious and loves to tell stories about himself and his past.  Nowadays I still cross paths with him on occasion in the gym, and often he'll track me down when he finishes his workout.  Jack is hilarious-- but he is blunt and outspoken and sometimes you have to either swallow a smile or swallow your outrage when you are listening to him.  For example, he complained to me about a month ago that his daughters all have cut their hair short and are just wearing it straight, and it is SO unattractive, he said.  Or a few years back, he wanted to know why his granddaughters are so fat when I have five kids and I manage to stay thin.  Oh my gosh his poor granddaughters!!  Right after the 2012 presidential election he came to tell me how proud he was that the guy he voted for had won and figured that Terence and I would be just as happy too, because since Terence is black of course we must have voted for Obama.  All I could do was smile and nod and try not snort hysterically-- since Terence and I were adamantly not Obama voters.

Sometimes Jack just wants to commiserate with me, since we are both California exiles.  Jack grew up in Long Beach, and his stories of life in Southern California do make you wonder why anyone would have left.  He finds my description of gang-infested schools and strangling taxes and sky-high housing costs strange and appalling. (Jack left California about 70 years ago.)  One of the more entertaining Jack moments was when he came up to talk to me while I was reading a novel on the exercise bike.  He treated me to a long diatribe about how much garbage there is out there to read and how he is an expert on the REAL books that matter-- you know, the classics he taught as a high school english teacher.  I didn't tell him that I write pulpy adventure/fantasy/sci-fi/romance stuff....

Everyone needs a Jack in her life.  Just to keep her humble and remind her that there are people in the world who think very differently.  Plus it's entertaining!!

The other day Jack came to tell me about how distraught he is.  He is also a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and his ward was getting divided.  Lots of change, and he was grumbling about it quite a bit.  "Too many people!" he growled.

I tried not to laugh.  "Too many people coming to church?  Isn't that a good thing?"

"No.  I want to go back to the good old days!  When there was only one ward in a building!"

He was half-joking so it was OK for me to laugh this time.

"When exactly were the good old days, Jack?  When would you go back to?"

He thought for a moment.  "1960," he finally said when a smile.

"You can't go back that far!  I wasn't even born yet!!"

He shrugged.  "But that's when it was good!"

It was funny but it made me think.  I'm not a fan of change.  But I can hardly want the world to go backwards!  Besides the fact that I wouldn't have been born yet, would I want to live in the world of 1960?

Not on your life.  No matter how idyllic it may seem to Jack, who lived through it.  So would I really want to keep things the way they are forever?  There is some appeal to that, I admit.  But some girl yet to be born, 45 years from now, would be appalled at the idea, because it would radically erase everything she loves about her life.

Life is change.  To live is to experience growth and movement and upheaval and things never staying the same.  I just need to remember that and try to go with the flow.

(Just as an aside, I wonder what Jack says about me to others????  Hopefully not that I'm fat and that my hair's unattractive!)


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