PICKING UP MEN AT THE GYM

So, this morning at the gym I realized that every time I see my son-in-law, Derick, there I say, "Hey, son-in-law" instead of calling him by name. As I climbed the endless hill on the treadmill I wondered why I do that. Here's what I came up with.

When I was 18 my mother was away from home on a business trip and my uncle Matt, only four years older than I, was graduating from Navy boot camp about 20 miles from my home. Realizing that I was the only family member who could attend because we were in Illinois and the rest of the family was in New Hampshire, I ditched school and went to celebrate with him. After the ceremony I brought Matt back to my house. We made dinner and then late that evening I drove him back to camp.

Now I grew up in the same house as my uncle Matt and being so close to my age he was more like a brother than an uncle to me. And he was one good looking young man, especially decked out in his dress whites with the hat and the whole nine yards. If you doubted it, all you had to do was ask him. Within hours of my mother's return home the nosy neighbor lady across the street was in our driveway telling my mother that I had entertained a sailor while she was away. My mother took great pleasure in telling her, "That sailor is my brother."

I think this incident lurks in the back of my memory and compels me to make certain anyone watching my interaction with Derick at the gym doesn't get the wrong idea. Then again, now that I think of it, nobody hears anything anyone says at the gym because we all have our i-pod ear-buds stuffed in our ears. So, let it be known, if you see me at the gym talking to a good looking young man, I am not trying to pick up men at the gym. I'm just harassing my son-in-law and his friends.