Wii Fit – Oh Shiit

I bought a 2010 Wonder Woman calendar this year.  Growing  up, I read hundreds of comic books – DC, not Marvel.  I wish I still had those comics in pristine condition because if I’d had that much sense, I suspect I’d be living someplace better than a duplex in a less than desirable neighborhood.  Last night my neighbors grilled in the driveway while playing loud mariachi music.  I hate mariachi music. 

But I didn’t keep those comics and here I am, flipping through my Wonder Woman calendar.  It’s pretty cool. I’m a fan of Wonder Woman, but it’s amazing to me how much she’s changed in the last 45 years.  She’s sexy and resembles those animated chicks from the film Heavy Metal. 

I’ve changed as well.  I went over to my daughter Nicole’s house today.   We walked over to a nearby playground with my three-year old grandson Wiley.  I tried to do a chin-up.  My arms laughed at me.  It took me over a minute to crawl into the entrance of the tube slide and on the way down Wiley jumped in, caught up with me and rammed both feet into my head.  My butt had turned my slide into a slow scoot, like a dog with worms.  I tried to jump on the merry-go-round after pushing it to spin it, and I damn near broke my back by slamming all my weight into a metal bar. 

As we trudged back up a hill toward her home, she asked if I wanted to play with the Wii Fit she got for Christmas.  I gasped out a “yes” as we reached the top of Mt. Everest. 

Nicole hooked up the Wii and we designed my character.  I gave myself a nose which looks exactly like a penis and picked yellow as my favorite color, which is a blatant lie.  I wanted my virtual counterpart to look as funny as possible.  Unfortunately, she looks just like me.

 We played awhile, with me not being able to combine keeping my balance and coordinating my movements.  I looked pretty ridiculous as a flying chicken flapping my arms. I flew in the wrong damn direction and never landed where I was supposed to.  I ripped out every atrophied muscle in my upper arm as I crashed on the ski slope.  Many shoes with cleats hit me in the head while I played the part of an inept soccer goalie.  A wrecking ball knocked me into the ocean more than once.  Good times.

You might ask what this has to do with Wonder Woman.  Well, while she’s still a smoking hot, athletic Amazon, Wii Fit informed me that according to my age, height and weight, I’m apparently a 67 year old woman.

It’s time for Wonder Woman’s famous Lasso of Truth.  If I’m still 67 when I turn 55, I vow to march up and down the streets of Las Vegas wearing a Wonder Woman costume.  And I won’t be shaving my legs between now and then.