Wednesday, May 1, 2013

Miami Potpourri: Ft. Lauderdale Haters, Fat(as usual), Bicycling.

Just wanted to write about a few things on my mind but in reality there may or may not be any coherence to this week's blog post.  As this post is about Miami and being a "man of a certain age" I thought I'd get a few things down that may be good fodder for future blog posts.

"Classy" Ft. Lauderdale......whatever.
Firstly, I read an article somewhere about 37 things that make Miami the best and weirdest place in the U.S.A.  The post was funny, but the comments section wasn't.
What surprised me was that there were so many haters, and most of them from our neighbor just 23 miles up the road: Ft. Lauderdale.  So I wrote a whole page about how Miami was better than Ft. Lauderdale, I discussed it with my friend and she said "why bother, Miamians don't even consider Ft. Lauderdale. I mean does the fabulous prom queen ever think about the blah girls who don't even qualify as nerds? No." I thought about it and she was right, I never think about the place unless I need to go to Ikea. So I dedicate Janice Ian's song, Seventeen to Ft. Lauderdale and it's environs.

"Hello Kirk, we are going to be good friends!"-Bob
Okay, I am a man of a "certain age" and I've decided to "dress my age". Also for some reason my clothes seem to be shrinking.  I'm going to make the move to XL.  It pains me to admit it, but I'm expanding and nothing seems to stop it. No more tight tees stretching across my grossly distended belly. I am going just make friends with the belly and learn to love it. I will not suck it in at parties, at the beach or pool.  It will be a prideful belly that will not shy away at the sight of a hot guy. Nope, no more sucking in the stomach for me!  Don't get me wrong, I am not giving up my healthy lifestyle, it's just at some point you have to admit there are things on your body that can't change without surgery or discomfort.  Hello belly, my name is Kirk.
It doubles as a dress.
I know I may be suffering from a bout of body dysmorphia, but tight clothes are no longer comfortable. I want to wear shirts in the "blouson" tradition that define the middle aged. Under all that fabric there's fat, under that fat, there's a body. Those puffy, oversized shirts from Brooks Brothers which are so comfortable and go great with a 38 waist size pair of Levi's. Just letting go of vanity perhaps there's some dignity in hiding this decaying corpse of a body that once danced on boxes in nightclubs.
Ok, new topic! Bought a bike. You think being the captain of a swim team would be enough (remind me to turn in my Speedo's briefs for Jammers). Not just any bike but a lovely Italian racer made of carbon fiber. The bike shop fitted me for the bike and more tight clothes.  Hopefully I'll be riding hard enough that I won't notice my knees hitting my belly. I am a bit nervous moving up the biking food chain, but it is one place where clothes as tight as sausage casings are de rigueur.