Exercising My Right to Chews

I ate fried chicken for lunch yesterday. 

Since I’m Southern to the (chicken) bone, that isn’t all that unusual. What struck me as odd, though, is that the chicken joint I went to – Gus’s World Famous Fried Chicken in Birmingham – is directly under an exercise place. So while I was there chowing down on some hot and spicy yardbird with some light bread on the side, above me began this stomping that was somewhat in unison. Then I started hearing excited but muffled yelling over the stomping. Then the stomping got louder. Then the excited but muffled yelling got even more excited. 

Why I could barely hear myself chew!

And I thought, Could there be two more incongruous ways to spend a lunch hour? I know which team I’m on! Pass the napkins!

I’ve spent a lot of years worrying over my thighs, which leads to worry over my A-double-slinky-letters, which leads to worry over my belly, and so on. And I do try to eat a reasonably healthy diet. But the gene pool works against me, age is creeping up on me, and, frankly, even though #audreywalks365, Audrey doesn’t really like to jump around in a gym while someone hollers at her through a little headset mic – especially when there’s fried chicken right downstairs. 

And I just can’t spend my life obsessing over a bulge here and a dimple there. That’s not healthy for me. I’ve learned that I’ve got to be as happy as I can with what the good Lord gave me and do my best to keep my temple from becoming a house of horrors. 

Which is exactly what will happen if you eat our traditional Southern-fried, sugar-coated diet every day – you’ll be worm food faster than you can say, “Scald that bird!” But the Episcopal Church taught me “all things in moderation.” So I do exercise just not in a gym. I walk every single day and I also ride my bike when it’s not 140 degrees outside. Nothing wrong with trying to be healthy and fit at all. But I’ll also have the two-piece dark meat combo, please. 

And if you like the stomping and muffled yelling, you do you! 

But you gotta admit, whoever thought of putting a chicken joint right beneath a fitness club is probably somewhere having a good old laugh while they wipe their greasy fingers off on their Lululemons

A few more quick things:

  • The story I did for Mobile Bay Magazine about watercolorist Wyatt Waters and his new book, The Watercolor Road, is now online
  • Are you looking for some Halloween inspo? Here’s a story I did about Southern monsters for It’s a Southern Thing. 
  • And I watched the funeral this week for Queen Elizabeth II with great interest and more than a little bit of sadness. I know there are many nuanced issues surrounding the monarch about colonialism (too many to go into here), but I was drawn in by the nation’s great display of mourning as well as the pageantry of the funeral. No one does pageantry like the Brits. And as I watched it all – the cathedrals, the choirs, the horses, the bands, the uniforms, the cars, the Corgis – it still comes down to one thing: a family who’s lost their beloved Grannie. Only this family’s dirty laundry is always on display and they have to grieve in a very, very public way. And that’s probably the saddest part. 
  • Speaking of very public displays of grief, this spider almost stole the show!
  • I did also wonder if the Queen and my own Granny were the last two people to have the “shampoo and set” hairstyle. Since 1940s “pin-up girl” hair has had a resurgence of popularity in the last several years, I’m thinking it’s only a matter of time before getting one’s hair “set” comes roaring back too. What y’all think?
That’s my Granny on the left and the Queen on the right. Also interesting is that in this picture, my Granny is the same age that I am now. Maybe it’s time for me to get my ‘do done.

8 thoughts on “Exercising My Right to Chews

  1. In the 90’s, I went to Gold’s Gym in Roebuck which was located behind Milo’s AND Denney’s. Try getting past those aromas after a workout.

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