F1Gm3nT
07-27-2002, 08:50 PM
Dear Brother Guidos,
Your web site provides for me vicarious thrills and,
at times, quiet reflection. You see, I am the only
Italian in the yuppiest town on earth--Lake Forest,
IL. I've lived here all my life, but I've always felt
like an outsider. Soccer moms with Golden Retrievers
whiz by in their Volvos and represent a world I
despise. Alas, I am a misplaced guido.
In high school I was totally different. Instead of
polo shirts and khakis I wore tight tanks with
arbitrary numbers on the front and spent my time, not
at the country club, but in the gym getting hard. By
sophomore year, I was by far the biggest and brownest
guy in school. I also invented a walk I called the
"yip yap" that consisted of a delayed leg drag
countered with a sort of wave action with my two arms
working in unison. It's fly. I still use it today.
I got picked on a lot even though I was by far the
best athlete in school. I didn't play any sports, but
I'd jump over garbage cans and stuff to impress girls.
Speaking of girls, I got all of them. By the bushels.
In a world of white, weak preps I was a huge break
from the ordinary. Sort of like Zima. I actually
took pride in getting called names like "Greaser" and
"Greasy" and other forms of lubricants. No one ever
had the balls to say it to my face because my two
arms, Thunder and Lightening, did all the talking for
me.
I didn't go to college in favor of a career in cutlery
sales. I'm bigger than ever but have always felt like
a ship without a port here. My music, my body, my car
are all lost on these people.
Then...a trade show brought me to Jersey for the first
time in my life last summer. Sure, a cutlery trade
show in Tom's River sounds great on the surface, but I
had no idea the adventures and the experiences that
were going to unfold. After four long work days and
being relegated to lifting sessions in a shit ass
hotel gym (ever tried to get a pump with 25s?!),
Saturday, my night of deliverance, finally arrived. I
was in line at GNC when three of the biggest guys
(next to me) I've ever seen wouldn't stop raving about
this place a few miles away called Temptations or
Tempts. I thought they were talking about the Motown
group at first, but when I listened more closely I
heard the buzz words that make my heart beat quicker:
chiseled, thumpin', dancing, jiggin', movin', shakin',
bakin'. I knew I had to check it out.
I asked the guys what all the noise was about. They
complimented me on my physique and I returned the
pleasantries. This one guy Zeek just said, "Get in
the Aerostar. You're comin' with us." Somewhere
along the drive I just started to feel something. It
was like the Tempts energy was reaching out to me in
the back of that Minivan. Through my seatbelt and
everything. We pulled up. I looked and saw a line of
the best looking people I've ever seen im my life. I
got out, jumped around and slapped the backs of the
guys who had delivered me to heaven. I did forty
push-ups to get a good pump and got in line.
A few hours later, I walked into the club. The
people. The energy. The bodies. The music. I took
it slow, but within a few minutes my shirt was off and
I was thumpin' to the beats with everyone. I tried to
take my pants off but I guess that's not cool.
Anyway, I had the best night of my life that night.
To this day, if you see me with a huge smile on my
face, I'm either lifting or I'm thinking about Tempts.
I haven't been back since, but your site helps me feel
as if I'm there. I'm in a new line of work now, and if
Tom's River ever throws a cell phone convention.
I'll be back.
Keep up the great work. There are no excuses.
Antonio DiBella
Lake Forest, Ill.
you can find the story at www.njguido.com
please stop by and look at the pix
"be like water."
- Bruce Lee
<img src="http://my.purerave.com/gallery/p/105315.jpg" width="300" height="100>
Your web site provides for me vicarious thrills and,
at times, quiet reflection. You see, I am the only
Italian in the yuppiest town on earth--Lake Forest,
IL. I've lived here all my life, but I've always felt
like an outsider. Soccer moms with Golden Retrievers
whiz by in their Volvos and represent a world I
despise. Alas, I am a misplaced guido.
In high school I was totally different. Instead of
polo shirts and khakis I wore tight tanks with
arbitrary numbers on the front and spent my time, not
at the country club, but in the gym getting hard. By
sophomore year, I was by far the biggest and brownest
guy in school. I also invented a walk I called the
"yip yap" that consisted of a delayed leg drag
countered with a sort of wave action with my two arms
working in unison. It's fly. I still use it today.
I got picked on a lot even though I was by far the
best athlete in school. I didn't play any sports, but
I'd jump over garbage cans and stuff to impress girls.
Speaking of girls, I got all of them. By the bushels.
In a world of white, weak preps I was a huge break
from the ordinary. Sort of like Zima. I actually
took pride in getting called names like "Greaser" and
"Greasy" and other forms of lubricants. No one ever
had the balls to say it to my face because my two
arms, Thunder and Lightening, did all the talking for
me.
I didn't go to college in favor of a career in cutlery
sales. I'm bigger than ever but have always felt like
a ship without a port here. My music, my body, my car
are all lost on these people.
Then...a trade show brought me to Jersey for the first
time in my life last summer. Sure, a cutlery trade
show in Tom's River sounds great on the surface, but I
had no idea the adventures and the experiences that
were going to unfold. After four long work days and
being relegated to lifting sessions in a shit ass
hotel gym (ever tried to get a pump with 25s?!),
Saturday, my night of deliverance, finally arrived. I
was in line at GNC when three of the biggest guys
(next to me) I've ever seen wouldn't stop raving about
this place a few miles away called Temptations or
Tempts. I thought they were talking about the Motown
group at first, but when I listened more closely I
heard the buzz words that make my heart beat quicker:
chiseled, thumpin', dancing, jiggin', movin', shakin',
bakin'. I knew I had to check it out.
I asked the guys what all the noise was about. They
complimented me on my physique and I returned the
pleasantries. This one guy Zeek just said, "Get in
the Aerostar. You're comin' with us." Somewhere
along the drive I just started to feel something. It
was like the Tempts energy was reaching out to me in
the back of that Minivan. Through my seatbelt and
everything. We pulled up. I looked and saw a line of
the best looking people I've ever seen im my life. I
got out, jumped around and slapped the backs of the
guys who had delivered me to heaven. I did forty
push-ups to get a good pump and got in line.
A few hours later, I walked into the club. The
people. The energy. The bodies. The music. I took
it slow, but within a few minutes my shirt was off and
I was thumpin' to the beats with everyone. I tried to
take my pants off but I guess that's not cool.
Anyway, I had the best night of my life that night.
To this day, if you see me with a huge smile on my
face, I'm either lifting or I'm thinking about Tempts.
I haven't been back since, but your site helps me feel
as if I'm there. I'm in a new line of work now, and if
Tom's River ever throws a cell phone convention.
I'll be back.
Keep up the great work. There are no excuses.
Antonio DiBella
Lake Forest, Ill.
you can find the story at www.njguido.com
please stop by and look at the pix
"be like water."
- Bruce Lee
<img src="http://my.purerave.com/gallery/p/105315.jpg" width="300" height="100>