Yesterday at the gym while I was working out, I heard a series of fierce grunts. When I turned around, I saw a Rocky Balboa lookalike furiously but methodically pounding the punching bag stand. His relentless assault lasted for a few minutes. He never lost control; he never faltered. He had perfect form. On the back of his light weight jacket was inscribed the word savage, a bit of a misnomer. His hits were certainly savage, but he also had a lot of savvy.
Nearby I saw an athletic young lady who resembled a fleshed out Barbie doll: she had an exquisitely proportioned and well-coordinated body, adorned with luxurious blonde hair, flashy blue tights, creamy pink sports bra, and spotless blue and pink running shoes. She did some reps on a weight machine (standing and bending in slow motion) with grace and finesse.
If I were to set up a dating app, I’d pair Barbie and the boxer—they complement and complete each other. They’d make a Jim-dandy couple.
Sometimes it’s the Little Things that Count
Today, while waiting in the car for my wife to mail a package at Safeway, I noticed that a gorgeous fully intact one-inch leaf had lodged in a crevice on one of my windshield wipers. The light purple leaf was bisected by a few dark purplish veins. Despite 30 per hour winds, the leaf remained in place for about an awesome minute. The nineteenth-century British Romantic poet William Wordsworth wrote a frequently anthologized poem beginning with “My heart leaps up as I behold a rainbow in the sky;” I feel the same way when I witness the many mammoth rainbows in Hawaii. But my heart also leaps up when I behold a leaf, as it did today as I communed with such a tiny yet vivid bit of nature.
The most severely anorexic person I had ever encountered walking about was a high-heeled, black-clad, forlorn-looking young lady in Paris a few years ago. I was so shocked that I took a picture of the woman just before she disappeared in the crowd—which was very easy for her to do. Yesterday, I saw a young lady who also was excruciatingly thin and appeared equally disheartened. Because her legs were so flimsy, she wobbled from the grocery store to her car. At one point, she almost slid onto the sidewalk. If she was inebriated, a thimble full of alcohol would have been sufficient to disable her.
As I did with the woman in Paris, I felt both horror and pity. What could possibly have caused them to become almost cartoonish stick figures? Could it have been a genetic disease, a dysfunctional malaise, or a catastrophe of some kind? I hoped that the woman in Paris found a way to replenish her deteriorating body. I pray that the woman in Honolulu can also find a way to attain a life-enhancing nourishing weight.