Passive Aggressive Conversations I Wish I Had: The Weight Room

This begins a new series called "Passive Aggressive Conversations I Wish I Had."  I'd like to note, at the outset, that staying at the office until 10:30 and catching the Rangers score of TEN TO NOTHING on the home influenced this decision in all likelihood.  But I really do think this has staying power, so we'll see where it goes.

[Setting: the Park Cities YMCA.  It's a semi-busy Saturday morning.  A few randars are in the house, but the usual suspects are present: 60% middle aged, half men, half women, the rest a smattering of middle school to high school guys and girls, and a few yuppie types.  The cardio machines are being used, as are the dadgum weights.

Entrat Mabes, walking toward the bench press.  A middle aged man wearing an odd, flesh-constricting Lulu-Lemon "shirt" that be worn in no other physical activity except weight lifting is just standing by the bench press in front of it, leaning on one of the rails.  The bench is adjusted for an incline press, although the actual incline press station has stood unused for the full half-hour that I've been on the treadmill.]



Mabes:  Excuse me . . . do you mind if I work in here?

Moron:  . . . . [He stands in silence, intently watching NCAA Women's Softball on Fox Sports Southwest.]

Mabes:  Pardon me, sir, but, uh, do you mind if I get a set in real quick?

Moron:  Uh . . .

Mabes:  . . . I'll just be real quick . . .

Moron:  Yeah, I'm done; I was just kind of watching TV as I cool down, though . . .

Mabes:  Oh, I--uh . . . I'm sorry.  I wasn't sure that you were done because the weights were still on it, and you were sitting here, but I just couldn't tell if . . .

Moron:  Oh no, all through.

Mabes:  [taking off the clamps and plates so that he can put what he needs on there]  So I can go ahead and take the weights off and put the bench back down now that you're through?

Moron: Sure. [Moron stretches, lazily gets up; he moves over three feet, and slowly, clearly judging the interloper as he puts on the iron, get set, gets the bar up, and gets on with his set.]

Exeunt omnes.

Metaxas

My friend organized a lecture by author/commentator Eric Metaxas at All Saint's Church in Dallas.  First, I had not really heard about Metaxas apart from his Bonhoffer biography.  I was totally unaware until about two days prior to the lecture of his immense groundswell of popularity that had gained momentum in the last year or two.  His speaking at the National Prayer Breakfast, his involvement in a very well-received film (and his authoring the book inspiring it!), more or less creating the Veggie Tales series: all of these things speak to an incredibly adept, multifarious intellect.  The man can think.

And I enjoyed his speech immensely.  He spoke on a topic that is unfortunately applies all to well to my life: rote religion in contrast to an animating, genuine faith.  It's a great topic, and one that everyone needs to hear.  While I admit that this message would convict me, I would also hazard that it should convict many others in the Church.  Metaxas did a good job delivering this truth.

In spite of my enjoying his speech, I don't know how much I buy into his schtick.  More on this later.