And remember how, a few months later during summer, you learned that you could do the same thing by placing your hand behind your knee? Pffffft, pffffft, pffffft, pfffft, pfffft…
Keep this hunk of childhood nostalgia in mind while I tell you a story.
Today I enrolled in a yoga school and attended my first class. Yes, they have yoga in Spain—and it’s a blast.
I was wearing shorts and a T-shirt. Midway through class, we did an exercise that was intended (I presume) to stretch and relax the spine. We were sitting on the floor with our knees drawn up to our chins. The instructor told us to put our hands behind our knees and fall backward so that we would rock back and forth on our backs like a cradle.
Well…as I rocked back the first time, suction was created between the palm of my left hand and the back of my left knee. And yes, you guessed it…PFFFFFT!
Panic-stricken, my first reaction was to leap to my feet and say, “Hey folks! I know what you’re thinking, but I swear to God…it wasn’t what you’re thinking!!!” But the room was so silent and the students so serious in their yoga practice, that such a discourse would’ve been inappropriate. Besides, my classmates would’ve likely found this explanation no more believable than if I’d blamed it on the family dog.
Suffice it to say, I’ll be wearing sweatpants to all future classes.
Just shows the cultural differences that exist. If you had been in England you would probably have had a room full of tittering people (now there’s a word we just don’t hear enough of – titter). I guess we didn’t progress beyond the schoolroom humour…
Still, it’s more fun that way sometimes.
Tim!
I would expect nothing less from the nation that brought us Benny Hill.
Actually, I wish that there had been some tittering in my yoga class. At least then I would’ve be justified in standing and giving my speech.
You titter; I speak. Tit for tat, as they say.
“Then tat!” as Benny Hill once said.
Sal
I don’t even believe you now… Too much detail – sign of a lie for sure! 🙂
~ B
How ironic that this brazen statement comes from a woman who, on 25 June 2005, published a blog entry expressing her love for cabbage (www.culinaryfool.com).
Sal
Sal,
Serves you right for going to a yoga class. The guy I lifted weights with in law school would never have done that. I’m ashamed of you.
Mike
To Mike
Yo no estoy avergonzado de Sal. Es un tipo completo: levanta pesas, hace yoga y escribe de p… m…., sin olvidar que guisa de cine. Por cierto, últimamente le encontré un poco delgado. (Come más, Sal).
Freddy
Mike:
Wow! Normally I only hear from you at Christmas. Perhaps my calendar is wrong.
But you are not. I am not the buff guy with the low forehead that I was in law school. I am a old, wrinkled, balding toothpick who is approaching middle-age more quickly than I’d imagined. So you see…it was a choice between yoga and pinnacle. Since I’m not quite wearing black sock with plaid shorts (at least, not yet), I figured that pinnacle would have to wait a few more years.
Besides…my yoga class is mostly comprised of young women wearing v-neck T-shirts.
Just kidding, Freddy. And if my makes you feel better, I’m eating as I type this. [Author’s note: that last comment won’t make sense, unless you can read Spanish.]
Om naya shivia.
Sal