now your left, now my left, now your left, that's my right

Winter calls for a change in movement.

This year, though I still get outside a little bit, and sometimes run on old ironsides downstairs,

I most often exercise with Nate's mom's old friend Gil,

the swarthy Italian working out in Hawaii in the '80s.

(Brought to me from TV to a VCR to a VHS converted to a DVD as a Christmas present--holy cow, the thoughtful technology!)

Each workout is about 23 minutes short, and Calvin hops on me for weight resistance while I'm doing crunches, just like according to legend Nate and his brother did to their mom. 

I recommend this workout tape to you

but you'll need a VCR and a time machine to get it.

Mr. Exerciser is funnily awkward with his instructions and small talk. 
Sometimes he tries to confuse your directions.
Maybe that's why I like him--you see, just last night Nate and I were confessing our recent awkward conversions with people who could probably be our friends
if we weren't so awkward to talk to.

B-Ball dude: "Nate, you're jumping so high this year!"
Nate: "Er, uh, eee..."


Neighbor and Primary Prez, as afternoon crept into evening at a meeting: "What time does your husband usually get home?"
Me: "Oh it varies--which makes it hard to have dinner ready!"
Her: "Bah, dinner, who needs it."
Me: "Oh, uh, well, we like dinner at our house." DUH.

 (So happy together.)

.