Zombies and Jenny Craig

Fule for Thought

 

So … I’m still fat. On Friday, at the high school cafeteria, I bought a sandwich. I also asked for a Pepsi (that’s what Elvis drank). The student worker immediately asked if I wanted Diet! Diet Pepsi … Elvis never drank DIET PEPSI! 

“Are you calling me fat,” I asked the kid? Instead of an answer, the kid just laughed … little brat.

Deb and I went to Canmore this weekend as my father-in-law’s Lions Club had a NHL Alumni Game as a fundraiser. These visits can be the thing you dread, as I’m a “touch” heavier, and haven’t seen some people in a while. I ran into a guy I played ball hockey with for the old Canmore Hotel Bucks, back in the early 80s. 

“Well,” he said. “You and I are now built to stand up the mountain winds, aren’t we?”

Wow, I thought, what a pleasant and subtle way to say: “Pat, you’re fatter than in the 80s!” 

We reminisced a bit, and then I waddled off to watch the game!

I ran into another friend from high school days … I zipped up my coat! We got to talking about school now and back then. He tried to tell me that kids are worse now, but I pointed out some of the rotten things I’d seen as a Jr. High kid. 

“Joe, remember the downright evil kids we were stuck with? I saw kids get punched in the head or stomach for no reason. There were kids dragged down stairs by their underwear, the dreaded gaunch jobs, and flush jobs (swirlies)! Kids nowadays aren’t as violent or cruel as they were in our town in the 60s and 70s!”

We talked more, and I reminded him of some of our own simpler game play. There were dirt lump and snowball fights, “king of the hill,” where you fought to take a hill and hold it … every kid for himself! Even among friends we made weapons of “mass construction!” 

We made rubber band guns and shot the bands at each other. You took a long, sturdy ruler, 2-4 clothespins, and strapped the clothespins to the flat side of the ruler, and they became the triggers. You’d put one rubber band loop through the opening of the clothespin and stretch the other loop to the other end of the ruler. With a press of the clothespin, voila … instant flying rubber band projectile! It was a simple but lethal weapon, to raise welt after welt, of childhood fun!

We staged elaborate battles, created forts, and as I mentioned, raised great, large welts on the “enemy.” 

Believe it or not, we did have a code of honour: no face shots. That was until my brother’s friend Steve stuck his gun in my brother’s peek hole and shot him in the eye! I had rarely seen my brother’s rage against anyone but me, and even as his eye was closing shut, he swung wildly, trying to punch Steve in the face. Just then my parents called to say they were leaving work and coming home. We tore apart the forts, pulled down the blanket we had taped up, and with that, tore off a big patch of the wall paint! When my parents got home, they asked why we had hung up a calendar, but we just said it’d make us know when tests and stuff were coming up!

That’s why I’m worried about a possible Zombie Apocalypse. I’ve only ever shot a rubber band gun and a laser tag pistol! How will I protect Debbie, the dog, and the hedgehog? One of my pals Ken, has offered to teach me to shoot at a shooting range. I mean, if the world ever did go crazy, sure, I could make an effective rubber band gun, but how long is that going to hold off a blood crazed zombie? Even if I did nail it in the head with all four bands, I’d only gain a few seconds of life!

So that’s why I’m trying (again) to get fit and trim down. Besides getting healthier, I need to get ready for the zombies. As it is right now, I’d probably look like a pretty good human pot roast to a zombie, and I can’t even shoot a real gun yet! Besides, if you’ve seen “Zombieland,” then you know “cardio” is a big rule to follow. A couple of lady friends of my in-laws tried to teach me some yoga on the weekend. I figure if I can learn yoga and get more flexible, I’ll be able to crawl through small openings and climb fences better, so I can stay one step ahead of those zombies! I figure with real gun training, a healthier lifestyle, and some “Rambo Boot Camp,” I can survive the zombies. Besides, if worse comes to worse, and I do get in shape, I only have to out run Debbie!

 

(“Fule for Thought” is a slice of life humourous column that appears in the Strathmore Times, written by long-time resident, town councillor, high school teacher, coach, husband and father of two – Pat Fule. If you would like to get in touch with Pat, you can send him an e-mail at Pat.fule@shaw.ca)