Wow! What A Headband!

This blog will be short and painfully sweet. So sweet that your teeth will begin to rot after reading this initial sentence. So short that you will become overwhelmed with an uncontrollable desire to weep like a baby, demanding more literary indulgences.

In fusing the scientific rigor of logic with any sentence that bursts from my mouth, one will likely roll their eyes and feel compelled to correct me in fear that my grossly mistaken take on something could be potentially detrimental to the nobility of owning a college education.

Sure, a lot of the claims I make are based on flexible fact, but I assure you when I say this: The power of the headband will consume you. (And I am NOT enrolled in aerobics class).

The following excerpt is written from the perspective of someone on the outside looking in, at me, while I'm wearing a headband. Yes, this blog is in response to someone who spread vicious rumors about me attending aerobics class.

5:30 p.m., Tuesday

You attend a core workout class at the gym (thinly disguised as an aerobics class). You are accompanying JJ because he has told epic tales of being so sore the next morning that he has considered crying in the corner of a doctor's office.

Stepping into the class, you notice the instructor (who looks like Olivia Newton-John) getting vigorous to "Physical" while wearing a headband and a leotard, and she's not sweating. Why is she not sweating? To answer this question we must reverse it and ask ourselves why JJ is not wearing a headband and a leotard and why he IS sweating?

It's clear why he is sweating. He is watching the illusion of nudity, which is the leotard and the symbolism of discipline: the headband. The instructor is doing all the work for him.

Upon further review, you notice that JJ is among only a few other men in the predominantly female class, certainly the only straight one at that. You have a sneaky suspicion that he is only attending the class to gawk at the lovely collective of female ass, when he suddenly pulls out a headband and slides it over his head. You immediately understand that JJ means business. It's going to be a serious workout.

Your initial impression that it's a low-intensity step class with high spirited gayness begins to fade away as you notice JJ squatting 900 pounds and lunging forward like it were a strongman competition. Any hope of making fun of JJ for attending a class that involved Rockette-like high kicks, hip-pivots and jazz fingers were squandered since such routines were nowhere to be found.

The song "Physical" became synonymous with promise. The guarantee that you will get the shit beat out of you in a hardcore workout. There was even a bench press portion where it appeared that JJ was raising a heavy bar to an unseen God.

But then it comes. Finally. An exercise that is questionable and involves routine and rhythm. YES! This is it! I'll be able to tell everyone that JJ does aerobics! And you glance over at JJ and it's apparent he has reservations about doing the exercise.

If we got inside his head, it probably looked like this: superego asks the id, "What are you doing? Don't make me look stupid," and then the ego and id respond, "Go lift weights, meathead. I am working out like Olivia Newton-John!"

Because he actually began doing the routine. But I suspect only because in his head, he thinks it's a core workout class and not an aerobics class.

Regardless of the class, I must admit, JJ makes it work with the headband. Even the girl next to him seems to agree as she seemingly doesn't care that he keeps sneaking peeks at her ass. I was ill prepared in not bringing my headband (or leotard) and I've come to the conclusion that there's no way I can possibly make fun of JJ as long as he's wearing head accessories that catch sweat.

Yes. To all you who think it's aerobics, I maintain that it's core training class. Unless I forget my headband. Then we might have a problem.

BUT, y'all can certainly make fun of me for wearing folded bandannas. Here's a video of me wishing I was wearing a sweatband, instead of a bandanna. Flight of the Concords styles. Only half of the spontaneous performance could be posted. Apparently YouTube can't handle the full three minutes. This was sad, since the conclusion was the best part. And something tells me I didn't exactly make this blog short.