Of course, this means that I have to fit into it.
I've had my tuxedo for going on 11 years now. I have no idea how old it is, since I bought it from a thrift store when I lived in New York City in the mid-90s (I think the first time I wore it was when Goldeneye came out; we quaffed martinis in a swanky hotel bar before we went to see the movie):
I don't remember how much it cost -- I just remember that the price of alterations was higher than the price of the tux.
This is a Quickcam photo -- remember those? How about CU-SeeMe?
Here's one more Quickcam photo from 1995:
Anyway, I only wear the tux once a year, during my company's Christmas/holiday party (or as I like to call it, The Prom), which is black-tie optional.
The time: 1995. The place: my apartment in Stuy Town, NYC. The computer: A Mac LCII. The original caption: Something about being menaced by robots. The glasses: Really dorky.
I stopped wearing the suspenders a few years back, since they turned the pants into highwaters. More recently, the pants have been getting kind of tight. And not because they've shrunk in the wash. Or because I've been taking Enzyte for that extra spring in my step.
The party is just over a month away. Assuming that I don't get fired in between now and then (and I'd probably still go, regardless), I'll want to wear the tux.
So, I went to the gym today, for the first time in about 3 months.
It was kind of overdue anyway -- I noticed I was getting winded raking the leaves on Saturday, and my back's been starting to hurt from sitting around too much.
Monday is legs and shoulders, and I also fit in 15 minutes of cardio. Here's what I discovered:
* I remembered where everything was in the gym. I even remembered my padlock's combination. However, since my last visit, apparently the iron weights have been replaced by a much denser, heavier metal. I'm thinking lead, bismuth, tungsten or osmium. Perhaps even depleted uranium.
It doesn't really make sense, but it's the only explanation I can think of.
* Halfway through my set of squats, I started cramping up and feeling sore. From experience, for tomorrow, in the words of Mr. T and my old chemistry teacher (alas, two different people):
"I predict pain."
* After 4 minutes on the Stairmaster at level 7, my heart rate was creeping over 180. (Not trusting the machine, I checked manually. Same result.)
At my age, that's out of "Target Heart Rate" territory and approaching "Danger, Will Robinson"-land
* The locker room scale says I weigh 128 (note that this also includes about a pound of hair). If true (and I don't trust that scale -- it's been beat up pretty good), that's probably the lightest I've been since college.
Unfortunately, it's a slack and flabby 128, so although counterintuitive, I'm probably going to have to gain some weight in order to fit into my tux (as we all know, muscle is denser than fat).
Anyway, I hope I can fit into my tux next month. Who knows -- as long as I can still fit into it and it doesn't fall apart, I'll keep wearing it; I've got a lot of memories invested in it (plus, it was a bargain at 10 times the price):
I think your goal should also be to wear those awesome glasses again! They're so dorky they're cool.
Ugh. Don't try me -- I still own that pair of glasses. They're a useful third spare set when civilization collapses (I've seen that classic Twilight Zone with Burgess Meredith too many times.) -- Joe
Look at the short hair Joe!
Oh, you're one to talk. -- Joe
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