Men's Privilege

Remind me why middle-aged men think they own the place? 

Case in point. The tram this afternoon. A 109 tram, on Collins Street. it's busy. Not hideous can't get on the tram busy, but busy enough. 

There is a man, sitting on the seat next to the aisle. The seat next to him is vacant. 

"Excuse me," I motion towards the seat. Two young men are sitting in the opposite two seats. 

The man looks up from his phone and looks at me as if I'm something he's stepped in at the dog park. 

"Excuse me," I repeat, a little more forcefully.

He doesn't move. 

The two young men make some room, and I take the seat by the window - I mean, it's a vacant seat on a busy tram. The absolute audacity of me wanting to take a free seat on a busy tram next to a middle-aged. He made it known that my presence on the next seat was unwelcome. 

MAAAATE! IT'S PUBLIC FUCKING TRANSPORT!

I sit in the seat. I refuse to make myself small. I can make myself small, but in this case, with this tosser, I refuse to bundle myself into a ball to make room for his arse on my side of the seat. 

I don't go into knees and elbows mode, but I sit quietly.

I could do one of the following: 

• Make a loud, personal phone call
• Play music on the phone, not through the headphones
• Play a game with the noise on
• Try and find something smelly to eat.
• File my nails
• Produce eggy farts

Or any number of other antisocial ways that you can irritate the shit out of people when you're on the tram. 

No, I just sat there, with my bag on my lap, quietly seething.

At the stop before mine, I made a move to stand . 

"Excuse me."

He grunted. 

The young men again made some room. 

I was tempted to dong him with my backpack. 

I didn't. But I did think about it. 

I just don't get why middle-aged men don't have to play by the rules the rest of us have to. 

Today's song: 

Hello, Gym

 First night in the new gym. There were feelings of trepidation and grief. After, I remain hopeful. 

One of the issues of going to the same gym for nearly 20 years is that you know where everything is, how everything works and what to expect. You also have to remember that it's not the same place. 

Jay was at the old gym today as it closed its doors at midday. I said my goodbyes yesterday. 

Onwards, I say. 

And yes, things are different. The machines have different set ups, things are in strange places. There are few bouncy medicine balls, but heaps of dead balls. (I hate dead balls). The feel of the machines are a bit different - of course they are. The leg press bench isn't as padded, the lat pull down machine felt a bit strange. There are fewer mats. Stuff, which will work itself out with a few sessions. 

It also felt busier than the old place but considering they've taken on a lot of people from the old gym, it's to be expected. 

I saw a few familiar places around the place. Another trainer from the old place was showing around a client. We smiled at each other. Familiar faces are gold. 

And after a 45-minute session with Cleo, I have the sense that this place will be okay. I love that they have reformer beds with inbuilt video lessons - I'd like to try Pilates but can't be bothered with the expense. I like that they have yoga at 8 pm on a Saturday morning. I like that their cardio room looks over Victoria Street. 

After this session, I went two doors down to meet up with my boxing trainer, for another half an hour of punishment. 

This was our third session boxing. I'm getting back into the swing of things. I love this interval training lark. Okay, after a 45-minutes of weights, it might not have been the most sensible thing to have done, but I lasted well. Sure, my arms felt like they were going to drop off at the end of the session, my legs a little wobbly, but I did it. 

An hour and a half and 500 calories later, I stumbled home. 

I think I'll sleep tonight. 

Today's song:

Goodbye, Gym

 Let me introduce you to some friends of mine. 

This is my favourite leg press. 

This is one of the TRX bands and the cardio area. 

These are the ski ergs. 

This is the 'easy' leg press and the leg extension machines - they come as a pair. 

This is my favourite lat pull down machine. My favourite bar, with the V grip has been stolen. I loved that bar. 

This is the good chest press. There are other chest press machines, but this one is the best.

And this is the sled track and the battle ropes.

And this is the studio where they hold classes. I contemplated going to BodyCombat this morning, but there was about 40 people in the room. But I did say goodbye to the instructors, who I've known for years. Until around two years ago I was in here most Sunday mornings - but the heat, the crowds and the noise all did my head in a bit too much. 

I think about the great people I've met here. My trainers over the years. Ricardo (Pinochet), Ivan, Dave, Mani, and now Jack, who've all helped keep me on track. 

There's the guys on the front desk. Nic, whose been on the desk for an age, is currently in Edinburgh Comedy Festival, taking her one woman show about being a receptionist at the gym to the world. (She's awesome). 

I think of the many friends I've made here. 

I love the community spirit of this place. That people regularly stop for a chat, say hello, egg you on. There's the people who've become actual friends outside of the gym.

At midday tomorrow, this all ends. They're closing down. 

I didn't know I was going to feel so emotional, but this place has been and extension of home for nearly 20 years. It's safe and convenient - and the parking is good. 

Sure, I have a new gym to go to - where they have all these machines, and it's 5 minutes' walk from the front door and quite a few people will be going to the new gym because the alternatives to go to the fancy gym off Church Street are not palatable (Too many posers, shit parking and you get stuck behind a tram two journey's out of three.)

It's the end of an era. 

I'm sad. 

Today's song:

Sunday Stealing: They Say It's Your Birthday.

It's interesting that Sunday Stealing put this up as this week's questions, as it was, indeed, my birthday this week. 

It wasn't a 'big' birthday, but it's been a pleasant week. Lots of gentle socialising, and a bit of down time. I couldn't ask for more. 

Anyway, here goes this week's questions. 

First, what is your birthday (month/day)?

19 August. 

Now, go to Wikipedia and list:

1) Four historic events 

According to Wikipedia:

1) In 1561 Mary, Queen of Scots returned to Scotland after 13 years in France. 

2) In 1944, France was liberated from Germany with the help of Allied Troops. 

3) In 1960, Russia sends two dogs, Belka and Strelka into space as part of the Sputnik program. 

4) In 2004, Google first lists on the NASDAQ.

2) Three births

I share my birthday with some pretty cool people: 

• John Dryden
• Madame du Barry
• Coco Chanel (1883)
• Ogden Nash (1902) (Candy is dandy, but liquor is quicker)
• Gene Roddenberry (1921) Creator of Star Trek
• Bill Clinton (1946)
• Matthew Perry (Chandler from Friends) (1969)
• Missy Higgins (Australian singer) (1983)

3) Two deaths

Groucho Marx (1977) and Otto Frank, Anne Frank's father, died on 19 August.  

1) One holiday or observance 

Allegedly, August 19 is World Humanitarian Day. It's not a day I've ever celebrated or know about

Today's song: 

Night in

 The fourth day of birthday week saw me do something out of the ordinary. I had somebody come over to my place!

Although not a big deal, it is a big deal - as it has been impressed on me that the fact that I don't 'entertain' is a bit strange. 

Okay, I don't have the set up to host a dinner party without a lot of movement, cleaning, arranging furniture and the like - but I can have people over to watch a movie. 

Last night, Alice and I had a movie night. We went down the pub for dinner, then we watched The Sheep Detectives - a film I love, and Alice really wanted to see. The Sheep Detectives is on Amazon Prime. 

Alice was told to bring some cow's milk for a cup of tea, because I only have almond milk in the fridge. We put the world to rights over dinner and settled in for a movie after, tucking Alice up in a blanket. 

Old friends are great. They don't mind if you keep falling asleep on the couch after going boxing at lunch time. 

After The Sheep Detectives, I introduced her to Ted Lasso - because she was rather taken with Ronnie and Reggie, the twin blackfaced sheep voiced by Brett Goldstein. She had not heard about Roy Kent. Alice, being from England, would LOVE Roy Kent. I LOVE Roy Kent. 

But it was very nice to have somebody over. 

I should do it more often. 

Today's song: 

The Cheese Grater

I went into the session fortified on Chinese takeaway and came out feeling like my psyche had been flayed with a cheese grater. 

On the good side of things, after the session, I wasn't in tears, curled up in the foetal position, but it does feel like things have shifted and I'm a bit raw.

Every second Thursday is shrink night. 

Tonight, I got shrunk. 

We covered a lot of ground. I'm not up to talking about most of it. I've got to process this in another way. She made the interesting observation that I possibly write because it's a good way to process my emotions and other things I don't understand.

I told her about going to a party on the weekend, where, after having a minor internal freak out where the main party was happening, ended up in the shed with a couple of other neurodivergents until the kids turned up and made noise. I was happy. I was with my tribe. 

I hypothosised that I probably smoked in my twenties because it got me away from noisy environments. Once again, I'm much better in a place where there's room to move, fresh air and fewer people. I gave up smoking over 15 years ago. 

We talked a bit about the horrors of internet dating in your 50s and the dreadfully uninspiring nature of middle-aged men. 

And I told her that I had two opportunities to go out on Saturday. A friend's choir at Hamer Hall or another friend's partners jazz album launch. I related that the last time I was at the bar I had some very cool chats with various people. Then, I said I'd probably stay at home with the cat and work on my blankets. 

Gently, she said that maybe the jazz club might be a good place to practice the art of talking to people. You're not going to meet anybody in your lounge room sniffing your cat's paws. If worse comes to worst, I could always bum a smoke off somebody and feel comfortable standing outside with the pariahs. 

I asked if I could treat myself to a bowl of ice cream after the session, She reckoned that was a good idea. 

I've bought the ticket to the jazz club. I've enjoyed the ice cream.

I'm upright and not crying, as the Dutch say, even if I am a little bit emotionally raw. 

It's a process.

I'll sign off. The cat wants his chair back. His claws are making mincemeat of my leg. 

Grated from two ways. Great!

Today's song:

Day Off

It's my birthday. 

I don't get the day off work, but I do get the day off blogging. 

But the post goes up regardless. 

Happy birthday to me.

Today's song: