Modern technology allows us to set our television to wake us up in the morning. This is great, except for the fact that it turns on to the same station we were watching before the TV turned itself off. In this case, we’d gone to sleep watching a documentary on the planet Earth, and I awoke this morning to one of Dad’s all time heroes doing an infomercial …… Jack LaLanne, along with his lovely wife, Elaine. They were promoting their juicer along with their exercise program and equipment. This lovely couple is in their 90’s. This wasn’t exactly what I was in the mood for, as I’d had a bit of surgery this week-end, and am still pretty sore.
I will admit, however, that the little man (at 5’6”) is a dynamo. I also read up on him a bit. Apparently, he became a sugar addict as soon as he emerged from the womb, “causing him to commit acts of violence, including setting his parents' house on fire and attacking his brother with an axe.” Finally their family physician said that Jack was a human garbage can, and so weak that he should be removed from school to regain his strength. Well… what for? …. so that he could get strong enough beat up on the other kids at school? Eventually, he turned himself around at age 18 and started a family bakery of healthy breads and then started a gymnasium where began training firemen and policemen in exercise and weightlifting.
He started his own TV show, aimed at sedentary housewives, and included his lovely wife Elaine, and his dog Happy in the show. It was a hit, and the rest is history. I swear he was much nicer to his dog than he was to his wife. Okay, I digress … enough about Jack.
The memories came tumbling forward into my mind, and I dozed again. Dad was blowing his Marine Corps whistle at the bottom of the stairs for us to get up. It was 5:00 a.m. He was a dyed-in-the-wool Marine, and consequently, a very early riser. Dad just couldn’t stand to let anyone else sleep in. According to him, it was just plain sinful, and a waste of perfectly good daylight, which was never there yet.
I’d been aware when he came up a few minutes earlier to light the space heater in our bedroom before going down to fix coffee for himself and Mom. He did this every morning during the winter … without fail. This started when we, Joanie and Anne and I were just barely of school age. The routine was that he’d warm up the house a little, and would then pry us out of bed to do calisthenics and isometrics. Get this! He never made Mom get up, but I suspect she somehow paid him off.
Back to the whistle blower at the foot of the stairs. Having failed at getting us up, he would come upstairs and flick the over head light on and off. All that got was, “Daaaad….let us sleep…Leave us alone!” Then he’d go to the window and open it to “give us some fresh air”. Again, having failed at having our feet hit the floor he’d throw the covers off of us. That would usually work. Dad would line us up an arm’s length apart in our flannel nighties. Then, in his very best Jack LaLanne demeanor he would instruct us on what to do. Mind you, we’re still giving him, “Daaaad! It’s too early!” At which time he’d just give us another set of jumping jacks to do.
His routine changed very little in the spring. The routine was pretty much the same, except for the fact that he decided that we needed to go to Lenten Mass with him every morning. “I want three volunteers to go to Mass with me this morning…..Uh…You!...You! and You!” Obligingly, with sleep still in our eyes, we readied ourselves to leave within fifteen minutes. Sometimes, we just tucked our flannel nighties into our panties, put on shoes and socks and our look alike navy blue tweed coats and black velvet hats that tied under the chin. Okay, Daddy. We’re ready.
The cold weather, early morning calisthenics came to a screeching halt one morning. The night before, Joanie hatched up this great idea. "We’ll take our night clothes off (everything) and stuff them under our pillows. Then, when Dad comes up and openes the window and throws the covers off of us, maybe he’ll leave us alone about the exercising." Well, it was a grand plan! I was hesitant, but since Joanie did it first, I followed suit. The next morning Dad fell into our trap. He only yanked the covers off of Joanie, and then he threw the covers back on and left the room. Et Voila!!!!! It worked! He finally just quit bugging us to get up for exercise.
This didn’t mean he wouldn’t roust us out of bed early; just not that way. He still lit the space heater for us, blew the whistle and turned on the lights. If that didn’t work, he’d just pester us, but he didn’t make us do a morning ritual of exercises again. After all, we got all that in school in recess, and later in Phys. Ed. He continued to do his own work out routine to set a good example. And that was as it should have been.
