Thursday, April 30, 2009

Why I Hate Telemundo

On Sunday afternoons, the New York Sports Club at 94th St. is invariably packed. Those who attempt to use cardio equipment must wait in line and stare awkwardly at the wall while, aboard rows of treadmills, voluminous individuals undulate in simple harmonic motion, oblivious to both their hygiene and the thirty-minute time limit. If you’re exceptionally lucky, there will be a treadmill available, maybe even a Star Trac Pro. That was the case today. My exceptional luckiness, however, was purely illusive.

The Star Trac Pro is no ordinary treadmill, oh no. In addition to the standard features (a tread that mills), it boasts a fan to keep you cool, an emergency stop button to keep you alive, and a personal television, complete with remote. The screen is on the small side, but, since it’s so close to your face, the effect is IMAX. Normally, I keep the television off so that world news doesn’t distract me from the musicals playing on my iPod. (Today was “Call Me Madam” and its sequel “Call Me Mister.” Heterosexuals: you don’t know romance until you hear Ethel Merman croon/shout a love ballad to a man fifteen years her junior.) Upon mounting the treadmill, however, I noticed that the remote control was broken. This wouldn’t have been a problem but for the fact that the television was (a) on and (b) tuned to Telemundo.