Yeah, Cubeland, Nike is another corporate devil. Can’t help it.
Open on bedroom, early morning. Say 5:30. Alarm goes off. Heavyset, middle-aged couple in bed. Clock is on man’s side, but he doesn’t move. Woman heaves herself up, leans over him, turns off alarm.
Woman rolling up, sitting on edge of bed, casting eye on old pair of running shoes on the floor. She looks miserable, then resigned.
Exterior of house, gentrified small town in Michigan or some such. Woman exiting through front door, starting down porch steps. She is wearing pink tights and an oversized black Just Do It t-shirt – clearly old and ratty, a leftover from the days when the campaign was still cool. Letters on shirt are cracked and faded from many washings.
Woman starts jogging down sidewalk. She does not move quickly, but some parts of her move more than others.
Woman passes coffee shop. Bearded and scarf-clad hipsters in skinny jeans are sitting at outside table. We see a male hipster notice Woman, then shoot a smirking glance at his slim female companion. She smirks a little in reply, then leans over to whisper something in his ear.
Cut to less-slim young woman, sitting alone inside coffee shop at a table with her laptop. She looks up over laptop, sees Woman pass by through coffee shop window. There is a flicker of something in her expression – not quite envy, but wistfulness.
Cut to Woman passing downtown fitness center, the kind where the whole front wall is glass so that you can see the people inside and they can see out. By this point, Woman is breathing heavily. Her shirt front is soaked with sweat. Through the glass, we see two buff dudes working the weights inside. One of them notices Woman, makes comment to friend (we can’t hear), and they high-five as she passes first part of window-front.
As Woman passes second part of store-front, we see treadmills inside. Total hottie is on treadmill. Close on hottie as she overhears dudes, shoots them a look, and rolls her eyes in disgust. Then she looks at Woman with sympathy.
Cut to Woman back in residential section, heading home. By now, she is practically lumbering. Two young mother types in the latest jogging regalia, both with earbuds in, are jogging toward her side by side. They have to split to go around her – her head is down, and she doesn’t even really notice them. One of them looks back, annoyed.
Cut to Woman reaching the corner of her street. As she does, she raises her head, as if in expectation. Yep, there he is: totally cut runner guy, shirt off, glistening in the morning sun. As he passes her, he smiles just a little and nods in greeting. They pass each other here every day. She smiles a little in return.
Cut to woman back in her bedroom, sitting on the edge of her bed, pulling off her running shoes. She gets them off, rests hands on bed, leans back a little, looks up, and sighs. Cut to her hand on bed. Her husband’s hand reaches into frame, covers hers. Cut to shot of her, looking back at him – he’s still lying down. She smiles. He smiles.
Cut to swoosh.
Love. This. And oh hush up cuz no I cannot relate AT ALL.
Well, of course not.
I don’t know what ‘swoosh’ means, but this was a particularly nice phrase:
‘She does not move quickly, but some parts of her move more than others.’
Life is a comedy for those who think.
Churchill,
You beat me to it. My favorite line!
JOB
Although there’s that phrase in Gosse about the tragedy being essential. I’ve started writing as though new readers have joined us, but it’s fine otherwise.
There needs to be a korrektiv exercise klub. Sort of like Fight Club, but with less nihilism.
The first rule of Korrektiv Exercise Klub is that you blog incessantly about Korrektiv Exercise Klub.
I’d like to put myself forward for the Tyler Durden role.
Wait, there are other roles?
Dude
Are you trying to pitch this to Nike? It’s cool and nice visuals and all that. Very hopeful. Very rest-of-us. I think it will work and appeal to a market that they don’t normally try to appeal to. Fat people.
If it is successful it might even increase the production quota of the workers in the Nike Asian labor camps. Nothing like a doomed life of pushing polyester thru a sewing machine because someone decided to dam the Yangtze river and it flooded your lands.
Maybe you can think up another campaign that could triple their quotas? Maybe bid them make bricks without straw? I’m just throwing out ideas.
I hate you. Next you’ll be telling me that my precious, precious Apple products weren’t manufactured in a beautiful stainless steel 100% green factory in Marin County. I know it says “Made in China” on the back, but I’m guessing that’s a typo.
It’s just a blog post, okay? I’m a creature of my age, okay? We haven’t all made it to the desert. Some of us don’t even want to go just yet.
All the hardware was manufactured in in Intel’s Asian Slave Archipelago. However the upside is all the code was written in Marin County. Apple found that the software engineers were much more productive if they were 100% closer to their herb supply. So one could say the code is green.
It is hard being the blog prophet. But how many blogs can boast a blog prophet?
If we boasted, others might catch on.
JOB
Do you see yourself as a woman, Matthew?
Best comment ever.
Mrs Duffy
Classic.