HULK NOT SMASH!

     "Do you think he looks good?" I asked my wife.

     "No.  Actually, that looks nasty!" she answered.

     We were looking at a TV commercial, wherein a Black bodybuilder directs traffic.  A recent Yahoo news article featured similarly buffed up dudes, all of whom were sprayed with some kind of bronze-looking insta-tan.

     In answer to the same question, my wife said:  "No, they don't look good either!"

     "But don't you believe in fitness?" I countered.

     "Not when it turns you into a freak!"

     A month ago I set up a college marketing demo, wherein we built an outdoor gym that featured fitness challenges and exertion tests.  The Grand Prize was the opportunity to win a Spring Break vacation with all the amenities, including airfare, hotel and a complimentary bail bond.  The "at least you tried, you wimp!" consolation prizes consisted of the usual T-shirts, cups and samples of a curious fitness elixir.

     "What is this for?" I asked, holding up a tube of thick, pink liquid.

     My co-worker - a guy who looked more like he belonged on a construction site than a magazine cover - said:

     "Those are for body building."

     "Oh."

     I sipped one; it tasted like Cherry-flavored Robitussin and aluminum.

     My son is built like a gazelle and looks like he has zero percent body fat.  Years ago, I had a physique like his, and even dabbled with fitness briefly (VERY briefly).  To a young(er) man, the prospect of having women ogling over one's finely chiseled physique is intriguing.  After all, who wouldn't want to be able to strut into a room with a snap-away policeman's uniform, strip down to a Speedo and gyrate while crazy frauleins stuffed greenbacks into the waist band?  Years ago, I wanted to try this, but I never did:  With my luck, the women would have paid me a dollar to go away.

     I know I will  never regain my former, svelt figure.  And I will never look like those Hulks in the TV commercials.  But then again, nobody is testing me for steroids or taking away my (imaginary) gold medals.  Sometimes it is great to be a real-life, never-changing Clark Kent or an eternal David Banner. 

Always B Positive!