Drum Rolls of Fat

I know I should work out. You know it. The Carthaginians know it. But the thing is, I don't want to. It is famously boring. You drive to the gym for the privilege of walking in place. Then you drive home. Does that make any sense at all? Or maybe you go to a class to have someone in better shape than you earn money by telling you to move. Gosh, I'd move for free if I ended up somewhere else, like a Dunkin Donuts. So anyway, exercise is dumb. That's a true fact.

But I know I should work out. I get winded booting up the computer, and my caloric intake has to be written in scientific notation. I'm a prime candidate for a headstone that says "Come on...was this really a surprise?"

So what's a lazy guy to do? I think I have it. I do have a passion -- music. I like to play music. During my life, I have taken lessons and I am pretty decent at a couple of instruments, but no one ever got thin playing the recorder. I do know that when I used to play drums, I could play for hours, work up a good sweat and still not eat everything that wasn't nailed down. And now, as an old man, I still have the itch to play, but who has the facilities in a house? Expensive drums, a nice stereo, a soundproofed sub-basement, back-up singers. The basics. So I have a plan.

I am going to be a rock god.

No that's not it.

I am going to start a gym which is a series of soundproofed cubicles. In each, there is an instrument (though I don't know how anyone can get thin playing bass). You suit up -- wearing ankle and wrist weights, and you play. The music is loud and private and you get a heckuva work out. True, I don't know if this would work for anything besides drums, but who cares about the rest of you. I don't recall starting this post saying YOU need to work out. All I need is a snappy title like "Musical slimitude" or "Rock and Tone up" or something like that. You get the idea. So that's my idea.

Meanwhile, all this typing has made me hungry.