AND THEN THERE WAS BILLY BLANKS....

Before Miss Dixie and I parted our yoga trial ways, I had a brief fitness affair with Billy Blanks and his Tae Bo 'revolution.' In a moment of weakness and disgust at my so very out of shape muscles, I ordered his three video tape set.

I remember the moment. It was a Saturday morning, I was alone and lounging on the sofa drinking my third or fourth cup of coffee, reading a book with the TV blabbing in the background . There was Billy in his infomercial, with a bevy of toned and energetic folks Tae Bo-ing right along with him. Maybe it was the music, maybe it was that Billy was all oiled and muscular and looked pretty damn good, or maybe I was just shaking so much from the caffeine that my mind had rattled loose...but I watched the whole thing, reached for my credit card and the deal was done.

The tapes arrived and I put them on top of the VCR (this was pre-DVD). I dusted the package regularly, and occasionally moved it to the right or left for variety. Two years of Saturday morning sofa lounging went by. Once in a while, someone would say something like, "Oh, you still have those Tae Bo tapes," to which I would answer, "Uh huh."

Along about the time those tapes celebrated their second birthday in my house, my son, who had yet to fully understand what not to say to the women in his life, came upon me in my usual position...feet up, expending only enough energy to turn the pages of the book in my hand. He walked over to the VCR, picked up the tapes and said, "You have to break the shrink wrap on these things for them to work. Did you know that?"

It is really annoying when your kid is correct. But I decided it was time, ripped off the plastic and read the little instruction sheet I found tucked between the tapes. There was a beginner tape, a more advanced tape, and an instructional tape. My buddy Billy strongly suggested that I begin with the instructional tape. "Watch it all the way through," he stressed, "before attempting the other tapes." I looked at Billy and his buff crew on the cover, looked down at my middle aged self, and decided to take his advice.

I lasted about twenty minutes, but it was an interesting twenty minutes. I learned how to stand, throw a punch straight out without dislocating my shoulder, and kick my leg. All while standing still.

Then Billy turned on the music and coaxed us to start moving, very slowly, very gently. All his buddies were bobbing and punching...Billy was flexing and dancing a little boxing two step...I was panting and sweating, feeling a little nauseous, and convinced that I was born with all my muscles in the wrong place. I had to sit down, drink water, put a cool cloth on my head.

In short, I failed the instruction tape.

No one has mentioned Tae Bo to me since. If they noticed the tapes had disappeared, my family kept it to themselves. I'm sticking to my 'Sweatin' to the Oldies' old and yellowing, videotape. I like the ordinary people huffing and puffing around Richard Simmons. I like that he makes you stop and measure your heart rate so that your family won't find you fit as a fiddle and dead on the carpet. I love all that music from my youth. And I love that in spite of himself, Richard always looks just a little bit pudgy.