Can You Be A Heterosexual Male and Take Zumba Classes?

After much thought, I’ve come up with the same answer to the question of, “can you be a heterosexual male and be married?” Maybe.

What launched me into this line of philosophical inquiry, you ask? Dale’s choreography to this song. Take a minute to get in the “mood” before I describe the “fitness” routine for you.

Now, imagine “castanet” hands high above your hands, walk forward, right foot, left foot, in time with the music, swish your hips right left, four steps then, at the end thrust your hips fast to the right like you’re Miss America in the swimsuit competition (or knocking your best friend off the end of the cafeteria table in the fifth grade). Oh HELL NO, I’m not doing that. not ever. You gotta draw a line somewhere.

Hey, don’t get me wrong. I like pink shirts, manicures and pedicures, a fine Beaujolais and a great art gallery as much as the next metro sexual. I’ve had gay friends since college, and I hope they can get married in all 50 states so they can be as miserable as the rest of us, BUT, – you gotta draw a line somewhere.

Comedians have been “joking” about sexless marriages since vaudeville. Or Pompeii, depending on how you interpret their brothel art. Or joking about marriages, period. Its all about having balls. Or none at all. It’s all about drawing a line somewhere. That’s why some guys will cook, or clean, or shop, or whatever, but when it comes to laundry, for example, they put the whites with the colored clothes, turn the hot water heater up to 240, add some bleach, lye and sulfuric acid to the tide, get them out of the washer, put them in the dryer on extra hot, dry them through 4 cycles and and wait for their honey to take out her all white disintegrated Barbie sized clothes: then say, “OMG, I can’t imagine what happened to those clothes!” And look very penitent when told, “you’re not EVER allowed to wash clothes again”. GRIN.

The amount of new songs and new routines each class is never ending. I feel like I’ve been sentenced to Dante’s first circle of hell, Limbo. (who ever liked dancing THAT at parties in the 60’s either), of endless line dancing and cheerleader routines. Reminded me today of when my daughter joined Girl Scouts. So I had to join Girl Scouts. THAT was interesting. Went to my first meeting and felt like they were looking at me like Anthony Hopkins, in the Silence of the Lambs. At the END of the movie. This is more than convention- line dancing Karma. I must have bludgeoned a court jester in 1502. Robbed and Killed a minstrel in 1287. And I look around the room, and everyone else is doing it, like they were driving a car. Even Sheninqua, who’s on class 11, is sliding comfortably in. Although, I did point out to her that the latest ‘new’ song, which has every arm flap known to man, made me think of the old shake weight commercial. (P.S. I’m saving this rant for another blog, but the Lantino mix of Ice ice Baby has GOT TO GO. Why not try Emimem’s, “Shake that ass for me”. Ok, maybe not a good substitute, bit ICE ICE BABY has got to go. WOW

But then, like a good relationship, it’s making me healthier and faster. Stronger. Slimmer. I sleep better. It nags me silently in my head when I read the menu or go to the grocery store And, it’s very accepting that I ‘m a happy/grumpy grouchy/joyful old pervert. So, I guess you CAN be heterosexual and be married. Or take Zumba classes. But you gotta know where to draw the line.

“Drawing lines since Etch-a-Sketch 1963”

Zumba and the Aftermath of Las Vegas

I backed into a car this morning on the way to Zumba. At 8:30 am. In the drivethru. At Starbucks. “Why did you back up”, you ask? That’s what she said, when she got out of her car, but in quite a more hostile tone.

Some answers which immediately raced through my mind were:
1 “I was in a hurry, and thought I could get my coffee faster if I went though the line in reverse.”
2. “You looked a little testy to me and I wanted to poke the bear”
3. “I just put a deposit down on a new lexus and I wanted to see if those low speed crashworthiness ratings were REALLY accurate”
4. “I thought if you STARTED your day with a little fender bender, your husband was much more likely to get lucky tonight, and he’d thank me

I picked silence. See, I just got off a plane from 4 days in Las Vegas Wenesday night at midnight and I am still officially in “Las Vegas Recovery Mode”. Ok, so here’s what really happened (not that I’m gonna sound ANY less stupid by being honest, but hey, I have to admit, my own idiocy amazes even me sometimes,

So I was running a little late this morning due to the Las Vegas jet lag, hang over, time change, “what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas” thing when I got to stsrbucks for my Zumba coffee. Was sitting in line when I looked at the clock and saw it was 8:45 and realized the line was long enough, if I waited for coffee, I’d be late for class. At this drive through, which is connected to a “tire King” (I know, don’t ask, I’ve wondered myself if a hazardous chemical factory wasn’t available for them to connect to) there is room for the drive through line, and one “pass thru line” between the cars waiting, and a few diagonal parking spaces for folks to go inside to get coffee or lubed. I was thinking about backing out and leaving when a women pulled up next to me and decided she couldn’t squeeze thru because the 4 feet on either side of her car and the one in front of me and the parked car next to her was not an adequate target zone to squeeze her car. I looked in the rear view mirror and there was no one behind me. Miss “I can’t drive a car down the idle of an airport runway” was still parked next to me. Still no one behind me. I’m mentally writing my blog on southern driving tips for immigrant drivers from elsewhere (those blinker things are like holiday lights, the left lane is for tourism and turning left at your ultimate designation anywhere within 200 miles, etc) when she FINALLY moves. My Italian road rage is in full hung over bloom when I take one more look in the rear view mirror, slam it in reverse and KABLAM!!!!

……So, I get back in the car wondering just how DID I miss that big ASS LUXUS sitting behind me in line when I looked THREE TIMES. so I look again and see my rear window is completely and totally fogged over. Like by brain. So, I actually couldn’t see AVYTHING. OMG. This is the stupidest thing you’ve ever done. Well, ok, portably not. There was Gilbert’s golf clubs and fishing poles. (Please, Gilbert, don’t tell those stories). In fact, I rely on my GOOD friends NOT to tell those stories.

There is an upside to all of this. At 8:45. You have enough time to have a wreck, exchange insurance informations, drivers licenses, take car pictures, and STILL get to Zumba Class on time. (so, I could have gotten my coffee after all) 2. I had her laughing by the time we left. (Pretty good for 10 minutes considering she was a little testy when she got out of the car). 3. After a 4 day bender in Vegas, the detox from yoga class the FIRST day back AND from ZUMBA class the THIRD day back gives you a rebuzz. Dale says this is called “tequila sweat” in the industry. I have not seen this benefit of exercising while hungover anywhere, and I can confirm it is a unique and mellow high that the exercise community should promote with more enthusiasm. So, if you’re finding your motivation for your exercise regimen waning, try your next class, run, gym workout hungover.

“We all live in a Yellow Submarine”.