in

Bad boy on a moped… – column

Bad boy on a moped…
ER Classics Desktop 2022

It must have been forty+ years since I was in a gym. A chamfered corner in a hall on an industrial estate. It smelled of sweat, rust and something else. The devices had a high Flintstones factor. The standard line-up was provided by a few instructors' wardrobes and about 80% of the male part of an adjacent camp. The campers drank shakes, swallowed pills and squirted. They were all very wide.

Such occasions will no longer exist

At least I hope so. But when I decided that in the meantime my body needed more exercise than tinkering and walking the dog… Well, I heard from another senior that he not only visited a gym, but was even a customer at a sports villa. That something like that was relaxing and not threatening. That is how I ended up at Sportvilla Lomar. There, 'villa' turned out to be simply the marketing technical name for a modern box in a pit.


For all ages

Inside it was bright and clean. The visitors apparently ranged from 16 to 85 years old and they were estimated to be of all current genders or beliefs. The instructors M/F turned out to be young, friendly and skilled. Gym music will never become my favorite. But I think it's about the rhythm.

A funny meeting

Recently, when I was about to descend the stairs to the changing rooms/lower room, I met a spry-looking lady. We exchanged a few notes and went our way. Apparently we ran about the same senior maintenance program so we ran into each other regularly during the exchange of torture devices. As we passed, we made friendly remarks. We were having a good time.

Somewhere at the end of the session we were chatting

Apparently we shared a kind of putative humor. The lady was bright, sharp and alert. At some point, we got mildly accustomed to age limitations. The lady asked me with a neatly plucked raised eyebrow: "But how old are you?" I didn't want to pretend to be younger than I am: "67 years old, but I'd be proud if you were my youngest sister." My interlocutor smiled coquettishly wiping a lock of her forehead. Funny: in every woman there is a girl and in every girl there is a princess.

“Hey! When you get older I hope you get a better view of people. I am 85.” Sometimes, for practical reasons, you have to pretend to be surprised. In this case, my surprise was not played out. We ended the conversation with a smile and went to the respective changing rooms.

Farewell with a smile

Later, when I was kicking my good old free-range animal outside, the princess from a moment ago also came out. Her car turned out to be opposite my motorcycle. She turned to me. Put her hands on her side and beamed: "I thought so: You're just a rascal with a moped."

Such a nice gym

2 Comments

Give a reaction

Give an answer

The email address will not be published.

The maximum upload file size: 8 MB. you can upload: image. Links to YouTube, Facebook, Twitter and other services inserted in the comment text will be automatically embedded. Drop files here

Now in store

View the 40-page preview via or a click on the cover.

The August issue, containing:

  • Fiat 127 from 1972
  • Heemskerk V-twin, the best motorcycle BSA has never built
  • Restoration Mini Traveler 1963
  • Peugeot 104, a party
  • Volkswagen Golf Country was too far ahead of its genre
  • Driving with a Yamaha R5 (1971-1972)
  • Report Wemeldinge Classic Races
  • Duplicate type designations - Part XVI
cover 8 2022 300

The perfect reading material for an evening or more of undisturbed dreaming. It is now in stores. A subscription is of course better, because then you will no longer miss a number and you are also € 27 cheaper. Not bad in these expensive times.

Volkswagen K70, the NSU that became VW

Volkswagen K70, the NSU that became VW

Citroën 2 CV AZ from 1969. Margriet's goat.

Citroën 2 CV AZ from 1969. Margriet's goat.