A Spin Christmas

Just so you know I did not disappear just a dasher on prancer of the flu. I hope to be back tomorrow at the Trance Inducers class in Roslyn. However, I miss you all

Jack 

Tripp's Birthday Spin

Never been to Great Neck before and except for the Master of Incantation I probably won’t go there again.  The room had the worst acoustics I have ever heard because I couldn’t hear Sven and so I had to settle for his patented dance steps and spirited exhortations that we all have come to love.  

He was booked and I took #1 and it was in the oddest position because I was right alongside Tripp but facing in the opposite direction and I found myself  staring at my image in the mirror. I don’t think I’m a narcissistic man but it was hard not coming face to face with myself pedaling madly to the trance inducers rhythmic choreography. I had done Kristen in the morning but had to be here for Svengali on his birthday.

The top of the sound system tower was adorned with pastries, as we all seemed to have the same idea in satisfying someone’s sweet tooth. He also loves caramel apples just in case you didn’t know.  There really wasn’t time for celebration as Tripp had three morning shows in Woodbury starting at the pre-dawn hour of 6.  All had a great time and I was glad I made the trip.  

Locker room scuttlebutt had a rather rotund, baldpated middle-aged man complaining about Tripp’s life story as being too personal. That’s why we come because it is personal.   Yours truly slammed him appropriately but elegantly. It was clear to this reader loving this guy was only for the brave of heart and very little of that

The Birthday Boy

We want to wish Tripp a Happy Birthday and as he hits another milestone on this December 20, we all know that there’s much more to come.  For us in the CS, the past year has been especially rewarding and 2011 with Tripp will bring us new adventures as he takes us beyond what we thought we were capable of.  He’s on the right road and the white line he paints for us each morning keeps us in the lane and ready for each turn life throws at us.  

Road Tripp

The trip north was a speedy one. I noticed that although the house was full, the usual vocal outbursts that mark Tripp’s classes were decidedly absent. A nice enough club, Scarsdale Equinox, but this Saturday’s session included a distinctly quiet group of spinners, nonetheless they were intense but they need coaching from the real deal, us.  Some might take umbrage with me, but this club can’t hold a candle on its downstate counterpart.  

Easy to get to and it’s a mere 40 minutes from Woodbury. No traffic at that time of course which made it effortless.  I could see Svengali was full of the holiday spirit and yet he was reflective about the New Year. He was talking about having a workload that only Superman might take on and that’s 25 classes. That’s a lot of pedal strokes no matter how you figure it.  

Scarsdale was where it all started for Tripp and he was recalling how he started with just one member in class who was his inspiration to stick with it and as he persevered his following grew. I loved hearing about the genesis of how it all started for him.  He played a 1967 tune by the Monkees called: Daydream Believer. Coincidentally the year of his birth and I won’t say what else he said.

The Pookah

The pookah has the most notoriety when it takes the form of a 6-foot rabbit.  He also likes to play games with us and play with our idea of what reality is.  To me the pookah are the 8 talking heads when I watch the business channel. Imagine 8 talking heads trying to convince us that they know what they are talking about. They never saw the break down of the stock market and any idea that they can tell us where to invest now is believing that the pookah does exist and he will be in your candy basket along with the chocolate bunny come next April 24th.  

It is time for us to use our collective intelligence and not rely on "show people" who are only interested in striking fear into your heart while they busily sell advertising time.  This period in American history is not a repeat of what went before; we are in a new financial age. What was isn't and what will be is just waiting for you to write it.  This is not a time to rely on trends but it is a time for the entrepreneur in all of you to recognize that prosperity is just around the corner, the way there is up to you.

Dark December

Today I avoided the scrutiny of Interpol at Roslyn and decided to make an unscheduled trip with Tripp.  Well I unscrewed my head and brain at the glass doors and left it on the back window shelf of the CS.  Every once in awhile I would check back and take a look seeing the eyes rolled back in my head and my mouth was moving but the words were indiscernible. I had decided that I would let the “Terminator” in me conduct the spin with Tripp today and by the end of the session I was so glad I did.

The music he chose today had me out of my mind in a good way because if he was a DJ he didn’t go to any Ivy League school I knew about. The musical mix seemed like crashing cars but it all seemed to work in a rhythmic fashion as only Mr. Mayhem could deliver. When he jumps off and on the bike and he raises his arms seemingly praising the Almighty he makes me crazy as I see the whites of his eyes signaling another ferocious attack on the pedal stroke.   When he played “Stomp” near the end of the session I needed both hands to keep my heart from leaping out of my chest.  The adrenaline rush was something I had not experienced since my last experience with Mr. Mayhem and before that leaping off the top step at Metro when Disco was King.  Anyway Tripp put me back on my heels when he followed “Stomp” with Doris Day and “Que Sera, Sera” in the cool down. Who does that? NO ONE!  He blew my mind.  The energy again was palpable in this class and I found myself shouting and doing the Svengali salute right hand in a fist, slammed to chest and then flexed forward. 

On that note I thought I would add something to our blog if it were all right with all of you. I will add a You Tube link to some of the tunes we hear each day as it might get us revved up for our next session. As if we needed more incentive.

Debbie in #12 with the Nadia Comaneci physiology provided me with enough incentive when the shoes I was wearing were giving me a bit of discomfort.  Debbie dontcha know is in phenomenal shape and because she had her well-defined left calf exposed to my line of sight it provided me with the focus to get over “My Bridge Over Troubled Waters”. 

My spin shoes turned up missing today and I knew they had to be here because I don’t go fetch bagels or cream cheese with them on, and so I was sentenced to my running shoes and those awkward toe box cages. I made do lamenting about my lost shoes but as I headed for the showers I started a confab with a member named Mike and because of that conversation I spied my shoes under the bench where I had left them after Carolyn’s (TBS) class on Sunday.  I thanked Mike.  I will never again take my shoes for granted because the freedom of movement they provide is unmistakable. My sneakers kept hitting the pedal flange putting me off Svengali’s rhythm. 

P.S.

I had some feedback from Tripp that I will mention only once and then I intend to move on and not mention it again. Some readers took umbrage to my entry: My Wood Was Wet.  I have to admit that I was crushed at first to hear that people were upset, and that they took this title to have a sexual undertone to it.  First off I am a writer and not everyone will like what I write and I can accept that. Secondly, I did not make a sexual reference even though some of my readers inferred that I did. If you read the full article you would hopefully be able to discern that. Be that as it may if you have comments direct them to me not anyone else because I am the writer and Tripp is in no way responsible for what I write. I want to face the music always so play it for me not anyone else. 

Tripping the Light Fantastic

Yesterday I tried a Napoleon Solo* but was later joined by Jesse a neophyte to spin and two construction professionals named Steve and Frank. Of course I was trying to enroll them into the Svengali experience and I will continue in my role of St. John the Baptist in announcing the Trance Inducers comings and goings. 

There is one major concern that has come to light and I am hoping that Tripp’s fandango will not be adversely affected. It’s quite frankly the fact that his dance floor is small as a shoebox and it leaves little for his animated gesticulations and distinctively patterned footwork.  What to do is the next query I pose but I feel the laws of Physics might leave this conundrum unanswered.  

This mornings entry has brought me to the realization that I don’t necessarily have to have my spin shoes on to write and that might seem like an extraneous detail but it will also bring me the ability to make an entry each and every day for those that look each day.  

*Napoleon Solo was a character in the hit TV series: The Man from U.N.C.L.E. It ran in the 1960s, but in my reference it means that I am spinning alone in the CS.