Something about two guys riding to a work-out facility together in a mini-van didn’t sit well with Redneck Neighbor (I’m linking but a warning: he’s not blogging much these days). So we took his work truck to the gym instead.
I didn’t ask Redneck Neighbor to join me last night. Becky might have – I don’t know – but I did not. I would not introduce someone I like to The Cuban Assassin. A radio programmer who refuses to play my music? Perhaps. An ex-girlfriend who stole my Nirvana CD in high school? Likely. Every critic who said Iron Man was a great movie? Definitely. But not Redneck Neighbor.
This man loans me his lawnmower. His kids spend the night at our house. His trampoline is the place our kids make most of their outside memories these days. His wife makes the best fried everything – and alfredo sauce and banana bread – and shares it with us. He’s taught my son how to run with a football and take a tackle. He’s the guy my wife is most likely to call if something important breaks when I’m out of town. He’s good people.
But I’m glad he came along. For purely selfish reasons I’m glad he came along.
Redneck Neighbor is younger than me, you see, by several years. He is stronger than me: Owns his own set of work-out machines and even uses them from time to time, plays softball, multiple pairs of shorts hang in his closet, he has calf muscles. He is tougher than me: Been through real boot camp, served in the first Gulf war, shoots living things with a bow and arrow for fun. tells his kids to “suck it up” when they face plow down the driveway. So, I figured, Redneck Neighbor will be a better gauge than I of just how tough (or not tough) The Cuban Assassin’s class really is. I mean, if a sissy-boy singer guy spews fish tacos it doesn’t necessarily indicate to all that the work-out is difficult now does it?
At one point last night, while Redneck Neighbor was doing some twisted variation on push-ups, I noticed his entire body was dripping sweat, his face and shaved head were broken out in red blotches from overheating and strain and he was grunting just a little bit. And then I watched as The Cuban Assassin knelt down in front of him and said, as if reading Redneck Neighbor’s mind out loud for the rest of the class, ”Why am I friends with Shaun Groves? What did Shaun Groves get me into?” And he smiled at Redneck Neighbor and Redneck Neighbor did not smile back.
Suddenly I felt a lot better about myself. This work-out thing, I’m relieved to say, really is hard. Even for non-sissy-boy singer guys.
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I’m trying to figure out how Redneck Neighbor can be years younger than you and have served in the FIRST Gulf War. That started in 1990. You were only 17 then. He must’ve been part of the kiddy brigade!
Beth
Hmmm. Maybe I’ve got that wrong then. You’re right, he would have been ten or something. He was in Iraq. I know that much. And we were doing war stuff. I’m not so quick with the math and must have just assumed it was the first Gulf war. There’s no way that’s right though.
I’m sure he’ll show up here sometime today and set the record straight for us.
Apparently musicians and rednecks store their clothing differently. I’m pretty much a red neck and I can say, without reservation, we do not hang shorts in a closet.
From a few pictures in some recent posts, however, it appears you may be confusing “shorts” and “skorts”.
: )
Is that for real, Shaun? I would attend the Cuban Assassin’s class just for his sense of humor. That’s hysterical.
Has nothing to do with being a musician, Seaton, and everything to do with being a little neat-freakish about my closet. My wife’s side is worse: clothes hung in ROYGBIV order. I kid you not.
I’m… I’m … in stunned amazement. Please tell me there are no creases in your jeans.
Time to reconnect is invaluable. Honestly I’m going to try to get us away at least for a couple of days at least once a quarter. I think it would really be great for our marriage.
he Right to Water report is based on over a year’s worth of quantitative and qualitative research conducted in Port-de-Paix, Haiti.
I’m not so quick with the math and must have just assumed it was the first Gulf war. There’s no way that’s right though.
I would attend the Cuban Assassin’s class just for his sense of humor. That’s hysterical.