Sooooooo....
I'm at the gym.
Trying to get my workout out of the way to make way for...I don't know. Saturday stuff.
I don't own an IPOD or Shuffle or Shuffle off to Buffalo pod. I read the stupid Close Captioning. Deal.
Since we're both up at the crack of (10) and she's off cardio-kicking imaginary opponents and saying "Woo"! with the rest of the class.
I've finished my lifty mc-liftersons and have retired to the treadmill. Now, to para-phrase Mr. Leary I kinda do feel like a hamster in a wheel on the treadmill. I haven't owned a walkman (LUDDITE ALERT!) in ages. The last thing I had resembling sound producing head-gear was this wireless headset that looked like you were answering phones in the 50's and was the size of Princess Leia's hair in "Star Wars". Not fun. And it gave me a headache AND it'd bump channels every few blocks.
So I run silent. Adrift in my imagination. A bad place to be. Except I've discovered a few things about my club...
If I book it out of work, when I do. And if traffic is conducive- I can make it to stretch out, work my tummy, and watch "Jeopardy" on the treadmill villa Close Captioning. A fine pursuit, to be sure. You don't need sound. You watch the questions pop up, mutter the answer to yourself and either (A) curse inwardly if you get it wrong...stupid MENSA teen's...or (B) Try and time your prrt's in the vain hope that there is no one on the treadmill behind you.
What?
So on a Saturday A.M. I figure 'toons are all I need to let the world go and watch mindless 2-D animation whilst I program my routine for the next 3.2 miles. I've timed it PERFECTLY with NBC's newest venture: 3-2-1 PENGUIN!!! (It's like "3-2-1 Contact", right? Show's y'all my frame of reference)
The NEXT thing I know, is they're quoting the bible ("Remember what the good book says!") and the normal non-anthropomorphic character's are spouting ("Get ready for church, dear" and "Did you want to say our prayer's together?")
What?
I'm dubious I would've caught it if I hadn't been reading the text via close captioning. I thought "Where is the exploding coyote being pushed off the cliff by that rascally road-runner?" The doofy lisping hunter with the wily wabbit? Spider-man, and his AMAZING friends" Which is to say I have some amazing friends too, and can empathize with the wall-crawler.)
Then V-Tales came on. And besides being the bastard step-child of El Muppet-ino (Seriously. How MANY drugs must one be on to have vegetables give parables, wear clothes, and perform normal human tasks sans hands. And really, turn on the CC option on your TV and read the intro-song. It's drugs, people. People using drugs and eating vegan. Check it out.)
Although I felt warmly toward the asparagus with the yellow cardigan. I thought to myself: I wonder if his pee smells funny, or if the novelty is lost. Ponder, folks.
Anyway, I miss my blow'em up cartoons in lieu of this stupid Bob Ross inspired "happy" crappy. I don't wanna be a grumpy old man, but a world with grape soda caving in the walls ( "3-2-1 Penguins" distinguishing plot point) is nothing compared to "Thundarr", "Plastic Man", Super Friends", "Godzilla and Gadzookey" or cripes...even "Gummi Bears".
Ish.
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