Beach Blanket Box Trot
By David Weinstein
In a prior column called “Life Hacks,” I wrote about my workout regimen. As an update, I’m making progress on getting back into shape, but despite this, I haven’t lost any weight. I think I would be doing better if Ann would quit using the contents of the dumbbells I fashioned from pasta sauce jars for our Wednesday night spaghetti dinners. So, my body is definitely not beach-ready yet, and worse, I’ve been having a recurring dream where I’m lying on Victoria Beach in Laguna and the captain of a passing whale-watching boat points toward me and announces, “Looking to your starboard you’ll see a rare sight. A great white humpback foundered on the sand. Maybe that big fella shoulda thought about cutting back on the size of those pasta portions.”
I determine I need to add in some aerobic activities. Maybe powerwalking? However, with global climate change, and COVID-19, the hiking trails are simply too hot and crowded. But desperate times call for desperate measures. I have an idea—Ikea. I can speed walk there. The darn place is 300,000 square feet—and it’s air-conditioned. I calculate that a lap through the store is 1.2 miles, and this doesn’t include the extra half mile you walk in the parking lot looking for your white SUV.
I have been to Ikea many times. My dress is usually casual, but not this time. I am on a mission— to get in shape and shed poundage. I look through my drawers and find my old workout clothes. They are in remarkably good condition even though I haven’t worn them in several decades. They still fit, though the shorts are a bit too short, the shirt too tight, and the mid-calf white socks and tennis shoes not exactly au courant. I study my appearance and decide I bear an uncanny resemblance to Bjorn Borg but without the headband and if he had been 5’5” and overweight. A Swedish tennis star—A Swedish housewares store. This works. I am ready for my first sortie—man versus merchandise.
I arrive at the Costa Mesa Ikea entrance and jog up the escalator to the living room displays. No one notices my apparel since everyone else is also wearing questionable outfits. Muzak is playing in the background. It is Abba’s Dancing Queen. I would prefer the theme from Rocky, but this will have to do. I trot past the sofa beds and make a note that this would be a good place to cool down after my workout. The Vretstorp and Sandbacken sleepers look particularly comfortable and are surprisingly well-priced. Heading toward the wall unit and media storage section, I see an opening marked “shortcut,” but from previous experience, I know this is a trick. The last time I took a shortcut at Ikea, I got caught in an endless loop between the kitchen and dining room displays until a yellow-shirted employee took pity on me and got me back to the arrow-lighted pathway.
I speed past the Restaurant & Café and notice a new menu item—Plant Balls. I didn’t know plants had such a thing. But I love Ikea’s Swedish Meatballs, so I wonder if they are similar? Knowing those clever Swedes, they may have figured out a way to make these from particleboard shavings, which is the material that everything else at Ikea is made from. I decide to pass in favor of the $1 frozen yogurt served near the checkout stand.
At the exit, flushed and exhausted, I consider that once I get into better shape, I can tackle Costco, dodging its shoppers standing mid-aisle pushing carts the size of my father’s 1961 Cadillac, or even Home Depot, improving my tracking skills stalking out their illusive employees to help me find hardware items.
I say—Jag uppmuntras! which as far as I can tell means either “I am encouraged” or is the Swedish word for a plate holder. Whatever—Victoria Beach, here I come!
David is looking forward to his time at the beach this summer.
