Ran into a co-worker at the gym today. I recently transferred to a new business within our company. So that means I transferred gyms as well. This one was on my way.
I met Bruce on the first day and thought he just had brain damage. Didn't know it then, but know it now, I was there to make assessments. I've been told he is pretty much OCD. He washes his face in a certain pattern in the bathroom every morning at the same time, using the same exact three handfuls of water. Life does not start without this ritual.
These days, I don't really buy into certain behavior patterns. Having broken a huge one myself, I know that if you consciously re-wire your brain into believing your actions can change, you can change it. Which is why it is extremely frustrating to watch as someone falls into a never ending pattern. It's especially rough when you know in your mind they don't mean it, but you just feel they may be just messing with you, because NO ONE can be this malfunctioned. But the brain is so intricate. The slightest shift in brain placement and you can either be Einstein or some drooling mental patient.
Bruce has a strange background. He went into one of the most illustrious film schools in the country. He graduated with a LOT of future famous filmmakers. He mentions them non-chalantly, but never holds any resentment. I get the feeling he may know they are famous but not know one of their movies. He counts himself as a film historian. Which is as useful as deck chairs on the Titanic. He sometimes refuses to believe the trivia is spouting is sometimes inaccurate and will start to pout like a child when you up the ante on the behind the scenes history that even he didn't know about. But he would get real insignificant facts. Like how an army of extras threatened to strike on "The Ten Commandments" because they were working long hours without a second meal. Think you'll see that news on "Entertainment Tonight" anytime soon?
I think something in his life held him back. I think I know what it was. He can't let certain thought patterns leave his brain. For a filmmaker, that is devastating. Movies move forward, not in circles. You can't expect to spin your wheels on a focused thought and have audiences line up down the block. I mean, "Rain Man" did it for comedic effect (and yes...I consider "Rain Man" a comedy. I thought it was funnier than "The Hangover".)
One of his train of thoughts: he would ask me if I would be in charge of the music in the room. I've told him multiple times that I would not know where to begin. Which is where he would press "Who's in charge of the music?...you in charge of the music? Someone's got to be in charge." I make the huge mistake of actually answering him. "No Bruce, I'm not in charge" "How about you be in charge?" "What's music?" and so forth. Others watch in disbelief as I would lob this back to this walking mouth fart machine. His brain is just not wired properly. But, much like Tom Cruise in "Rain Man" I get frustrated and repeat what he says to his brother "I know you can hear me...I know somewhere in there you can hear me that you can understand what I'm saying!" I want to shake him to death. At least I won't hear the same stupid comment stuck on repeat. Five minutes to Wapner.
So now that you have a bit of a background, I run into him at the gym. I didn't recognize him at first because he's in a tank top. He's hairy in that car salesman type if way. Wispy shoulder hair is one of the most awkward type of hair on this planet. How does it happen? I want to believe that hormonally our brains would shut this down knowing that we're now in blazing hot southern California sun. All it does it fades the dark hair.
I'm greeted with "Who's in charge of the music?" I glare at him. Don't start this garbage in public. If I'm on the clock feel free to babble Bazooka Joe jokes for all I care. This is my time. In my stupid brain I think that this must be a work thing and when he clocks in he would leave his affliction at work. I'm a dummy. Anyway, watching him workout is like watching an old-timey gym rat go at weights. Excruciating to watch. And silly. He huffs and puffs the largest weights he can handle. Shortens his sets to 3-5 reps. Poor form. Poor lifting habits. Poor dumb bastard. He is hurting himself. He hunches as if the years of poor lifting impacted his spine. He complains to me about the pain in his lower back. And it takes a lot of willpower not to pinpoint the source of his misery. Which is his ineffective, yet unwillingness to listen to advice nor implement new skills. It's a broken record. I want to help him. He isn't loss at the working out part...he just seems outdated. Physical fitness developments for him stopped in 1979.
Maybe about the time everyone slipped and dropped watch on who was in charge of the music and thus we got disco.
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