Let Freedom Ring!

I had a dream!

In my dream the government directed all women over 45 to lighten up for one hour every day.



I had no idea so many people watched the Today Show.  My boss, my co workers, customers, more than a couple of my email buddies, even the delivery man in brown, all couldn't wait to bring up the new govenment guidelines. 

Women over forty five years of age should get one hour of exercise a day.

Well, duh!

What I thought truly appalling about the Today Show announcement was the attitude of their resident physician, Nancy Snyderman.  The first words out of her mouth, I kid you not, were, "Oh give me a break!" 

She seemed to think of an hour of exercise as a sentence of drudgery, another mandatory chore piled on top of the already overwhelming stack of obligations women wade through every day.  Dr. Snyderman's "Get real!" was an alarming thing to hear, especially coming from someone who is supposed to be a proponent of good health.

Hello!  Could it be that for an hour a day we, god forbid, just have fun with it?

Of course there's no time to go down in the basement and plod on a treadmill while staring at the musty wall. 

There's no time to go out and drudge around and around the same old block for an hour. 

There's no time for a twenty minute drive to the gym each way. 

There's no time for the white type scrolling out news of the latest murder across the bottom of a TV screen while a rumbling treadmill takes you nowhere. 

Yikes!  Give me a break, indeed!

Last night, I had a dream. 

And in my dream the bells of freedom rang across this country. 

And Dr. Nancy Snyderman said, "What wonderful news!  Even the government supports women having fun for an hour a day!"

You can have fun with it, people.  You don't need a fancy hobby.  I have bikes and kayaks and running shoes and a passion for the outdoors.  I realize how very lucky I am. 

But c'mon, do you really need toys, classes, coaches, or a pricey gym to just put a little fun in your life?

Got a basketball hoop in your neighborhood?  Got a ball?  Got bare feet and grass?  Got kids?  Or a dog who wants a ride in your bike basket?

No?  No problem.  Maybe you've got a friend who likes to gossip.  If you can't get together for a walk, get her on the phone. I see people walking and talking all the time.

In my dream, I took off my shoes and went sliding down the hall.  I boogied like Tom Cruise, although I have no risky business to conduct.  I went into the backyard and led a big brass band with seventy six trombones.  I swayed, crooning into a wooden spoon, while the pasta boiled.  I danced with the people on the Carnival Cruise Lines commercial.  I wished I had stairs to swoop up and down like Scarlett O'Hara. I folded clothes and danced them to the basket.  For fifteen minutes, my big red handled mop was Fred Astaire. 

What a great dream!  In it, I am moving.  I am happy. Dwarves sing Heigh Ho in the background.  (And the chores are all done.)

It's a great world, folks.  It's a great life. 

Move.  Keep moving.  Why?  Because you can! 

Lighten up.  Have fun with it.  Let freedom ring!


An hour a day?  Give me a break!  Is that all we get?