DON'T YOU DIE ON ME, MISTER BANANA HAMMOCK
I'm sure this isn't something the spin class ladies have to worry about.
So a couple weeks ago, I meant to update you on the state of Old Mr. Banana Hammock.
Let me remind you that I currently take a water aerobics ("hydro fit") class three days a week. The class is great and it works me pretty hard (as long as I'm willing to push myself), I just have to deal with being the youngest in the pool, aka "old people soup," by a good 25-30 years.
By the way, Doris was singing her heart out the other day -- head back, EYES CLOSED, belting out "Celebrate." Ceeeeelebrate goood times come on!
Anyway. I had forgotten to mention to you that the old man who swims laps while class is going on NOT ONLY wears a tiny see-through Speedo, but when he manages to lift himself out of the pool (a painstaking process, to be sure), he grabs his cane and his bag of I-don't-know-what before he scuttles his way back to the men's locker room. He is also always wearing a swim cap and goggles.
Please think about this image. Elderly man, stooped over, shuffling along the poolside with a cane, wearing a swim cap and goggles, carrying a nylon "swim bag"(?), in a tiny, thinning flesh-colored bathing suit. And I don't want to be too graphic here, but that bathing suit makes you see things you don't want to see in both directions.
So but. Last week, I showed up to class and there was whispering and murmurs coming from my fellow swimmers, and I hear that someone has DIED. "You know, the old guy who comes to the pool every day and swims laps? He had a hard time walking?"
I assumed I knew exactly who they were talking about, but I couldn't exactly clarify. I mean, is it not the height of impropriety to ask about a dead man's junk?
I stated earlier that I thought Mr. Banana Hammock was about 88. And then I saw that there was an "In Loving Memory" poster up at the other end of the pool, for the man who swam 19 laps EVERY DAY into his 92nd year...
And then I felt very strange. I mean, it's not exactly a horrific tragedy when a 92-year-old man (who was clearly beloved even at his GYM) dies. But it's not really okay to laugh about him, either. And yet there his see-though bathing suit sits, on my blog, for pure comedic effect.
Should I take my posts mentioning a now-dead man's old, accidentally visible butt? WHERE IS EMILY POST WHEN YOU NEED HER?
Let's just say I was rather distracted throughout class. I don't know how one handles blogging the death of a stranger. I certainly have no poignant thoughts to add.
Ex: "I'll really miss trying desperately to avert my gaze from your jiggly, low-hanging fruit as you made your way from the pool to the locker room, sir. May you be in heaven half an hour before the devil knows you're dead."
You're probably thinking I'm heartless now, huh? Well, I'm not. Because the astonishing truth is that Old Mr. Banana Hammock is NOT dead. Apparently the dead man was some OTHER guy who swam into his 92nd year, and our see-through Speedo guy is someone else. Someone very much alive and kicking (literally) AND?
And wearing a new bathing suit! Oh, it's still a tiny little number, but this new one's a nice dark plum tone and totally not see-through. Oh, the joy!
I had to do my best to mask my elation as I discovered in quick succession that this man was neither dead NOR exposing his family jewels to my class anymore!
How could I ever take a spin class when the pool affords such drama?
So a couple weeks ago, I meant to update you on the state of Old Mr. Banana Hammock.
Let me remind you that I currently take a water aerobics ("hydro fit") class three days a week. The class is great and it works me pretty hard (as long as I'm willing to push myself), I just have to deal with being the youngest in the pool, aka "old people soup," by a good 25-30 years.
By the way, Doris was singing her heart out the other day -- head back, EYES CLOSED, belting out "Celebrate." Ceeeeelebrate goood times come on!
Anyway. I had forgotten to mention to you that the old man who swims laps while class is going on NOT ONLY wears a tiny see-through Speedo, but when he manages to lift himself out of the pool (a painstaking process, to be sure), he grabs his cane and his bag of I-don't-know-what before he scuttles his way back to the men's locker room. He is also always wearing a swim cap and goggles.
Please think about this image. Elderly man, stooped over, shuffling along the poolside with a cane, wearing a swim cap and goggles, carrying a nylon "swim bag"(?), in a tiny, thinning flesh-colored bathing suit. And I don't want to be too graphic here, but that bathing suit makes you see things you don't want to see in both directions.
So but. Last week, I showed up to class and there was whispering and murmurs coming from my fellow swimmers, and I hear that someone has DIED. "You know, the old guy who comes to the pool every day and swims laps? He had a hard time walking?"
I assumed I knew exactly who they were talking about, but I couldn't exactly clarify. I mean, is it not the height of impropriety to ask about a dead man's junk?
I stated earlier that I thought Mr. Banana Hammock was about 88. And then I saw that there was an "In Loving Memory" poster up at the other end of the pool, for the man who swam 19 laps EVERY DAY into his 92nd year...
And then I felt very strange. I mean, it's not exactly a horrific tragedy when a 92-year-old man (who was clearly beloved even at his GYM) dies. But it's not really okay to laugh about him, either. And yet there his see-though bathing suit sits, on my blog, for pure comedic effect.
Should I take my posts mentioning a now-dead man's old, accidentally visible butt? WHERE IS EMILY POST WHEN YOU NEED HER?
Let's just say I was rather distracted throughout class. I don't know how one handles blogging the death of a stranger. I certainly have no poignant thoughts to add.
Ex: "I'll really miss trying desperately to avert my gaze from your jiggly, low-hanging fruit as you made your way from the pool to the locker room, sir. May you be in heaven half an hour before the devil knows you're dead."
You're probably thinking I'm heartless now, huh? Well, I'm not. Because the astonishing truth is that Old Mr. Banana Hammock is NOT dead. Apparently the dead man was some OTHER guy who swam into his 92nd year, and our see-through Speedo guy is someone else. Someone very much alive and kicking (literally) AND?
And wearing a new bathing suit! Oh, it's still a tiny little number, but this new one's a nice dark plum tone and totally not see-through. Oh, the joy!
I had to do my best to mask my elation as I discovered in quick succession that this man was neither dead NOR exposing his family jewels to my class anymore!
How could I ever take a spin class when the pool affords such drama?
Oh thank goodness because I was going to make jokes about how he probably read about himself on your blog and died of embarrassment. (OK Not really, but I thought about it.)
ReplyDeleteThat old man must be an x-military man...hats off to him !!!
ReplyDeleteThis is the first time I am reading about a dead man in a humor blog !!!
I'm sorry, but I've had flu this week and the dramatic tension in this post was too much for me. I need a nap now. (Hooray for opacity!)
ReplyDeleteI think most (all?) of your posts are pretty awesome (even about dishwashers...who knew?) but THIS one takes the cake. YAY FOR PLUM SPEEDOS!
ReplyDeleteDeath has a way of making funny things suddenly both inappropriate and therefore even funnier. Even if it wasn't Mr Banana Hammock.
ReplyDeleteGod, I read about old mr banana hammock and laugh so hard I cry. I have spent many a year in the pool and it's always the most unfortunate looking men (or the hairiest ones!) that sport those lovely suits. :)
ReplyDeleteThat. Is awesome.
ReplyDeleteI bet you'd make that old man's day if you complimented him on his new bathing suit.
ReplyDeleteOld people love having young people talk to them. They generally assume young people see them as in the way.
Lived in FL among geezers for four years,
Green
You have far more fun at the gym than I ever did. But then I didn't take hydro fit. I took some cardio dance aerobics class and was the horribly uncoordinated person that other people probably blogged about. lol But I don't care. We did the Thriller dance.
ReplyDeleteI was very relieved to hear that Mr. Banana Hammock is still with us.
ReplyDeleteDon't scare me like that!
I think it's silly to feel bad. Namely, if you're going to make fun of him, stick to your guns. It's your blog, it is a funny situation, just don't mouth your opinion at his funeral. Everyone is entitled to their opinion. That opinion shouldn't change just because he may have died. Maybe you feel bad because you know you're being mean? And when someone dies, you feel like you must atone for your unkindness?
ReplyDeleteEither way, it's all silly. If he had died it's not like you would have changed your mind or erased that beautiful mental picture you have of him, right? So deep down you'd still be laughing.
OMG! I laughed! I froze in etiquette horror! I felt sad! I fretted! I felt annoyed at your dismissive anonymous commenter! It is the whole range of human emotions in one post!
ReplyDeleteI'm hoping when I start aerobic excercise next week that nobody laughs at me. I think my suit is pretty puritan for the YMCA. I did love your posts about this little man, though. I don't think you are as mean as you would like to think you are. Acutally I think you are a pretty darn decent woman. You have given me plenty of things to laugh about at your own expense. The exploding holey panty hose (that actually happened to me the other day and thank God I knew I wasn't the only one on earth who had been through that little bit of weirdness) Why not share your experiences about someone else. Maybe he read your blog and that is why he has a new bathing suit....or maybe he celebrated another birthday. My father in law is 92, but has become not so much fun during the past few months, but I'll remember the fun times with him. And I just have to tell you this...sometimes old men just don't know. Once a gentleman came to my office after playing tennis. He sat across from me, but not up close. His junk was in full view and one part was hanging out. I was pretty damned hard put to find something else to look at. It was sort of like a train wreck happening. He finally noticed and promised to come back when he wasn't so unkempt from playing tennis. I don't think I ever saw him again. But how would I know...I'm not sure I ever saw his face but if they need someone to identify him by his business, well, I could probably do that.
ReplyDeleteOh, my goodness. I can hardly type because I'm laughing so hard at Amber's comment.
ReplyDeleteStill. Sometimes thoughts pop into our heads and it's not wrong to think something, it's what you do with that thought that can be bad. Sharing a story about what is, to us, an anonymous person is not mean or awful. It allows us to laugh with you because the imagery that you write with and the experiences that we've personally had combine and allow us to roll on the floor laughing.
Mr. Banana Hammock (you do capitalize that don't you?) is none the wiser.
Hehe no one ties it all up with a funny bow like you, thank you for the post.
ReplyDeleteMen's junk is funny-looking. Period.
ReplyDeleteYAY!! So glad Banana-man is alive and well! Life IS worth living again.
ReplyDeleteMan I know exactly where you're coming from. I've been writing about an old lady at my gym (who I've dubbed Muriel). This chick is sassy with a capital S.
ReplyDeleteShe's a major dynamo on the elliptical machine and I know she and I compete against each other every time we're in there together.
I'll feel strangely conflicted when she dies. She's got to be at least 70-something but she's got moxie in droves.
I do want to be like her when I hit 70.
Glad to hear The Banana Man is living life in a darker hue on the color wheel.
Do you live in Colorado because I've got the same stooped over, jewel-flasher at my pool. I guess you've got to live wild when you're in your 80's. Thanks for immortalizing your guy for us.
ReplyDelete