The exercise industry has lost ALL sense of irony.
Someone who shall remain nameless (my mother) went out and bought me this thing in a desperate attempt to stop the constant cycle of ear infections that plagued me this spring. Due to her unfortunate use of direct shipping, we've ended up on the damn mailing list for Torture Me German-Style with Useless Yuppie Shit Magazine Hammacher Schlemmer.
In an attempt to stave off insomnia and prevent any chance of a pleasant dream last night, I was flipping through the pages of mindless consumerism's horrendous swan song when I came upon THIS:
Yes, that's right. They're actually selling an $1800 mechanized saddle and calling it a "core workout." A piece of advice: If that's what you're into you can arrange it a great deal more cheaply on any given Saturday night in Austin. There's no need to resort to mail order.
Which has led me to reflect on a disturbing trend in at-home exercise equipment. They're just recycling the accoutrements normally reserved for those folks with a particular skip in their grooves and reselling it as exercise equipment.
Case in point (besides the saddle). Picture it. Saturday night.
Okay all right, I'm fixated on Saturday but bear with me. Saturday night. Third date (or whatever. God.)
After a candelight dinner and a stroll for ice cream, you make your way into the living room of that someone special only to encounter this:
Some of you would know it was a pilates machine. But I submit to you that at least 70% of the population wouldn't. IF you didn't, 70% of the remaining population would be headed towards the door with a barely mumbled excuse about having to get up early and a strange feeling like your scalp was ablaze.
I left a margin for the folks who might really be into it. To whom I say...go ahead and strengthen that core! Woot!
I do reserve the right to write a letter to the Hammacher Schlemmer people if I'm ever flipping through the pages and find a SWING, though.
In an attempt to stave off insomnia and prevent any chance of a pleasant dream last night, I was flipping through the pages of mindless consumerism's horrendous swan song when I came upon THIS:
Yes, that's right. They're actually selling an $1800 mechanized saddle and calling it a "core workout." A piece of advice: If that's what you're into you can arrange it a great deal more cheaply on any given Saturday night in Austin. There's no need to resort to mail order.
Which has led me to reflect on a disturbing trend in at-home exercise equipment. They're just recycling the accoutrements normally reserved for those folks with a particular skip in their grooves and reselling it as exercise equipment.
Case in point (besides the saddle). Picture it. Saturday night.
Okay all right, I'm fixated on Saturday but bear with me. Saturday night. Third date (or whatever. God.)
After a candelight dinner and a stroll for ice cream, you make your way into the living room of that someone special only to encounter this:
Some of you would know it was a pilates machine. But I submit to you that at least 70% of the population wouldn't. IF you didn't, 70% of the remaining population would be headed towards the door with a barely mumbled excuse about having to get up early and a strange feeling like your scalp was ablaze.
I left a margin for the folks who might really be into it. To whom I say...go ahead and strengthen that core! Woot!
I do reserve the right to write a letter to the Hammacher Schlemmer people if I'm ever flipping through the pages and find a SWING, though.