Humor Yoga Zumba

Yoga Zumba and the Paroxysmal Back Spasm Part I

I know, I know, in a previous blog I wrote if you don’t want to sound old, don’t complain about your aches pains and ailments. But, you know, the exception that proves the rule and all. Anyway, since law school, thirty years ago, I’ve had these crippling back spasms periodically on just my lower left side. For a long time, I thought, rationally, that they MUST be caused by picking something up the wrong way, or over exertion (me? HA!), or twisting or turning wrong. It took years to figure out that stress, anxiety and mental illness had to play a factor. And being a fat ass. That had to play a factor too. Anyway, after getting them every year or two, and having to be almost lifted into the car to get to the chiropractor so I could get fixed enough so I could crawl to the bathroom on my own, I figured out if I would see the guy every few months on my own, I could mostly avoid these unpleasant spasms, which, for the most part, has been an effective plan.

So, Friday, I get one of these crippling paroxysmal back spasms. I love that word “paroxysmal”. Mainly because its so hard to spell and also because I can’t pronounce it. Now, I’d like to tell you that I did this in some intense twist in yoga class, or by really pushing myself in a forward fold in pyramid pose, or by really pushing myself in Zumba class, but noooooo, I did it driving. Yes, driving. On my fat ass. In my comfy Volvo.

On Friday, my usual day off, I got a massage, saw the chiro boy and was on the way to Yoga class, when the Volvo, flashes in red, “Power System Failure; URGENT” with a red triangle, with an exclamation point, and a voice exclaims; “Danger Danger Mr. Robinson!” The route to Yoga class is also the route to the Volvo dealer and it’s only 3:30 so no problem, detour to the dealer, but then I have this vision of being stuck on the Arthur Ravenel Bridge, the main bridge between Downtown Charleston and Mount Pleasant SC, and being on the 5 pm news, as THAT FAT GUY in the red Volvo who snarled traffic on a FRIDAY happy hour because he couldn’t keep his fancy ass car running.

I get to the dealer and Amy asks what I’m doing there. I’m completely drenched in sweat as the air conditioner stopped working when the red danger danger message stopped flashing so I explained all the messages which flashed, IN RED and said, “Either the alternator/AC belt has broken. or its the apocalypse, or aliens or coming” but my messages are usually yellow, this is the only time in 14 years a Volvo has given me a red message so I was sure the Volvo was going to explode. She got me a loaner car, told me she’d call me Monday and sends me on my way. As I went to get in the loaner car, I realized I couldn’t move. I realized in the midst of all that error message, I must have gripped the steering wheel,and tensed up, like a little girl who was going to have her first car wreck. How embarrassing. But wait, it gets worse.

So, I go home figuring it will be gone by morning. I wake up Saturday morning in time for Zumba class , and it is not pretty. Generally speaking, if you have to crawl off a couch by rolling over to plant one knee on the floor then the other knee on the floor then gradually pushing yourself up while writhing in pain, Zumba class is probably not a good idea, no matter what your brain is telling you otherwise. But, I went anyway. Macho, Macho Man. I want to be, a macho man. (You automatically know something is bad judgment when Village People lyrics are playing in your head. Automatically) I did however, practice some creative profanity during the class that I had not before experienced which I would not have believed possible. Trust me. Pain will enable you to combine curse words in ways you had never thought possible.

I went home and found my stash of flexeril muscle relaxers which I had wished for years ago and which had been left on my front porch by the pharmacopeia fairy in an plain pill bottle with a simple dymo label which said “flexeril”. (and you guys thought practicing the law of attraction didn’t work) Oh, here’s hint number two which I picked up in tonight’s Zumba Class – do NOT go to Zumba on Flexerils…. More of that in Part II of this piece.

In desperation, I emailed my massage goddess and pleaded my case, (I also told her the whole car/little girl story on the theory that she’d be laughing so hard and peeing herself that she’d have to see me Monday, which apparently worked, and I got an appointment). Much to my surprise, and further embarrassment, I learned, after all these thirty years, that my problem is NOT in my lower back, but my pirformis muscle, which, I had never heard of before.

However, to save you some google time, I will just tell you, that from where she was touching my ass, I said, “so when they say ‘that was so scary it made my asshole pucker – this is the muscle that does it’ I guessed from her hysterical laughter that was an affirmative”. She then said something about it wrapping around the sciatic nerve and causing all the pain, blah blah blah. To be continued…… Zumba on Flexeril and Karma for the Electric Slide Part II


Zumba and the Mt Pleasant Senior Center

Dale, the Norse Goddess of Zumba and Tango, suggested I sign up for the Mt Pleasant (Yes, I live in a place called “Mt Pleasant”. Apparently in the 1700’s “Mt Quiver” didn’t get past the Puritans) Senior Center so I could take her Zumba Class Monday through Friday from 8  am to 9 am.  Now, those of you that know me know that is NOT happening on a regular basis, but I did think I could manage that once, maybe even twice a week.  Ok, once a week, so I went by to check it out.  Holy shit, its the Taj Mahal of facilities!  So I went by this week to sign up.  It’s only a $100 for the year.

I took a tour after signing up.  Nice fitness, music, arts and crafts room, café, kinda what you would expect.  Nice lady at the  front desk, ( who, by the way, took my membership application which I printed off as an Adobe PDF and filled out in pen and she then keyed in completely on the computer, because after spending 1.25 million on this senior center, nobody knows how to create a fill in the blank PDF form) gave me a sheet on their classes and events, which had the usual bingo, mahjongg, cribbage, canasta, arts and crafts, yoga, blah, blah blah, when it struck me!

My brothers, who are 10 years older, and in their mid 60’s came of age in the 1960’s.  In another decade, almost all seniors will have come of age in the 60’s or LATER.  We obviously need to update the offerings in senior centers for this new group.  if they expect these Senior Centers to continue to be so busy, they need to cater to the cultural expectations of the age group from the 60’s, 70’s, 80’s.   I have some ideas.  Maybe you have some suggestions of your own.

1.  Marijuana Varietals –  its not just you plain old Sinsemilla anymore!  Planning a trip to Amsterdam, Washington State, or Colorado?  know the difference between ogkush, granddaddypurple, bludream, jackherer, chemdawg, strawberrycough, purpleblueberry, girlscoutcookies, dutchtreat, sonomacoma BEFORE YOU TRAVEL!  Don’t go unprepared. Also, this is prerequisite for the advanced classes in wine pairings and pot; and prescription drugs and pot.

2.  Kama Sutra Seniors –  Topics to be covered include – “Arthritis – yes you CAN!!!”,  “Sometimes Parkinsons is a GOOD thing”,  and we share one outing with “Love may not be free anymore, but its pretty reasonable on the internet” class

3.  Prescription Potluck and Exchange –  Part class, part social event, why not learn while having fun and making new friends.  Bring your favorite Prescription drugs for recreational use.  (However, bring the rest too, because what doesn’t give a side effect for you, might be awesome for someone else, or slammin when mixed with the right drug)  With guest lecturers on recreational usages, best combos.   (Waivers required for this class)  Also,  alcohol may intensify the effect of the drugs, so cocktails will be served.

4.  Motorized mobility frisbee –  Bring you motorized wheelchair, scooter, etc plus a cooler of beer for a fun time of outdoor Frisbee golf.  We don’t keep score, but like the 70’s its all about fresh air and getting drunk.

6.  Succession Planning for Dying Rockers:   Fighting a little depression about your fav rock band dying soon?  Wanting to find a suitable replacement to take their place?  Come to the music room on Friday nights and we’ll help you find a replacement for your favorite rock and roll, heavy metal, blues, beach band, soul, you name it.  So when the Stones finally die, you’ll be ready.

Cant WAIT to take a Zumba class here.

“We all live in a yellow submarine”

Humor Zumba

Zumba class 10 and disturbing developments

I broke out dancing at the pharmacy.  I know.  I didn’t ease you into it.  No introduction.  Just hit you in the face with it.  I go to a small business non chain pharmacy, owned by a female pharmacist.  A lovely drug dealer who walked off the cover of Vogue.  She has all female pharmacy techs.  A Charlie’s Angel’s Drug Dispensary.  What’s not to like?  So, I had phone in a refill on Friday and another on Monday and stopped by there to pick them up but only one was ready.  I was waiting and Maroon 5’s “Move’s Like Jagger” was blaring over the speaker, which you may remember is one of Dale’s favorites on her Zumba playlist, and without even thinking, and with an expected feeling of joy out of nowhere I bust a move, right there in the pharmacy.  The hot, black, pharmacy tech, busts out laughing, and says, “you’re making me uncomfortable”.  I said, “Wow, you’re laughing at me”.  She says, “I’m not laughing at you,”  clearly laughing at me, “but you making me uncomfortable”.   “What about my dancing is making you uncomfortable”, I ask.  “No one dances in a pharmacy”, she says.  “I am”.   After I left, it struck me how at the time, I thought dancing in the pharmacy was ok… which was disturbing.  And then I though about the fact that dancing in the pharmacy WAS disturbing.  Zumba may in fact be a mental illness.

Disturbing development no 2.  I’ve been embarrassed to mention for the last 4 weeks but I am physically incapable of hopping from one foot to another. You know, like a boxer would jump rope but faster. The first time they did this in Zumba, my brain sent the message “hop” to my right foot- nothing.  Then the message “hop” to my left foot – nothing.  Literally. Like paralysis. Except this wasn’t nerve damage. This was old age and fat ass damage. I stood there looking at all these women, easily hopping from right foot to left, in time with this music, playin at 156 RPM, even hopping twice on alternating feet. like some Peter Rabbit, hippity hop thing and I’m staring  at my feet.  Like Dorothy trying to get back to Kansas. After a couple of weeks of wrapping my head around this depressing realization, I decided to embark on my own personal hippity hop rehab. I started with shifting weight from one foot to another to an actual, but very sad, jump from one foot to another which is more ameliorated unfortunately by the gripping pain in my chest such cardio causes me than some previous inability to get my body to respond to signals from my brain

Disturbing development no 3.  I was told today that there is such a thing as Aqua Zumba.

“We all live in a yellow submarine”.