Staying Active During Coronavirus

Gym closed!

How are people going to stay healthy?

www.everybodylosangeles.com

The gym closure was huge for me. My goal this year was to decrease my waist size by 2 inches: 36 to 34. It may not seem like much, but it had been at least a decade since I was that slim. Also, cosmetic and health benefits aside, many roles for male background actors often wanted men with a 34-inch waist or smaller.

Over the course of the last two and half months of regular gym workouts and watching my caloric intake, I dropped 15 pounds and at my last fitting measured 35 inches.

El Molino Viejo, San Marino

But now the gyms are closed now. What to do?

Here are the three things I have done to keep the body moving:

First, I walk at least one hour every day. As the Los Angeles mayor said, the new stay-at-home rules still allow you to go outside on walks and take hikes. My wife and I have discovered new stores, interesting homes, and historical points of interests throughout our neighborhood.

Gymenist, photo Amazon.com

Second, I created a mini home gym for $100. I already had a yoga mat, but needed a workout bench and weights. In my case, I needed lightweights due to a repetitive stress disorder in my hands. I found this colorful set on Amazon ($28) from BalanceFrom. Also living in an apartment, I needed a workout bench that I could fold up and move out of the way when I was done. I ordered the Gymenist on Amazon ($90). I find the construction to be sturdy and the cushions comfortable.

Finally, I learned that my YMCA was conducting live-streaming, instructor-led classes through Facebook. When I told my mother, she said the Silver Sneakers Program for seniors was doing the same thing. Looking on YouTube, I found a slew of exercise videos. My wife and I pushed our couch back, laid out our yoga mats, logged onto Facebook and followed our favorite instructor through a sweat-inspiring workout.

I hope that my experiences provide you with some ideas on how to stay active and healthy during this coronavirus period. My new goal is to reach a 34-inch waist by the time production starts in the next few weeks or heaven forbid, months.

If you have any additional tips on staying healthy please comment.

Take care and be safe.

Posting schedule: Monday, Thursday, Saturday

Coronavirus Invades Los Angeles

"Production is shut down due to Corona Virus!" said the assistant director. "Everyone head back to base camp to sign out and then go home."

That was my last day of work as a background actor before Hollywood shutdown on March 13.

March 12 was the last time I saw my mom; the last time I ate out.

March 13 my son's school notified me they would be closed for 3 weeks.

March 14 my gym closed.

March 15 my jobs on the 16, 17, and 18 were cancelled.

My 401k collapsed.

That was the bad news.

The good:

• not having to fight with my son over homework
• taking walks with my wife daily through our empty neighborhood streets
• having something to discuss with my teenagers that they are actually interested in
• I finally have enough emergency supplies for the next big earthquake
• amazing signs of community
• learning to adapt to a new reality

I will post every two days what interesting (and hopefully uplifting) things I have heard or seen regarding the new reality of Covid-19, and how it affects me, my family, and my fellow background actors, and how I and/or we have adapted.

I hope that you find it interesting and look forward to your comments and questions.

Take care everyone.

Full Service

I was driving through the tree-lined streets of San Marino when I realized I was driving on fumes. I pulled into the first gas station I saw, a former Union 76 that had been whitewashed and now had someone’s name on it. Great, I thought, it’s one of those generic gas stations where they probably cut their gas with water. But whether it was the crappiest sludge in L.A. or not, I needed fuel right then and there.

So I pulled up to the pump and got of my car, only to see a man in a black sweatshirt standing beside my car’s gas tank.

“Fill ‘er up or how much do you want?” he said.

I stared at him dumbfounded. Transient who wants to pump my gas for a tip? I thought. But he didn’t look like a transient. His clothes were clean and he was freshly shaved, and it was San Marino after all. I looked at the gas pump and noticed there was no slot for a credit card or numbered keypad. About the time he asked me how much again, I saw the collared shirt beneath his sweatshirt and realized he was a gas station attendant.

“I’m sorry,” I said, “I did not realize I was in full service.” There was a .40 cent difference between self- and full-service.

I turned to open my car door, when he said, “No I’ll fill it up for that price,” and he pointed to a big white and blue sign on the street corner that listed the self-service price. I said are you sure? He said yeah. (I know, lame question on my part.)

So he stuck in the pump and walked up to a Mercedes parked in front of me that he had just serviced. He handed the driver a blue plastic clipboard with a credit card stuck in the top, waited for her to sign, then returned to his little booth as the car drove away.

Hmmm. Interesting.

Then a black Suburban pulled up across from me. The attendant walked up to the driver’s door as a middle-aged woman opened it to get out. A blankness came over her face, then a clenched jaw, then a confused acceptance that he wasn’t going to mug her, as he explained he was going to pump her gas—a sequence of expressions that had probably mimicked my own.

Mind you, this whole time I had been standing outside my car unsure what to do with myself. I didn’t feel like getting in my hot car and just sitting there. It seemed foolish. Although looking back, it probably looked more foolish standing beside my door watching a gas station attendant make his rounds.

When my gas pump dinged, the attendant came over, topped it off, and asked for my credit card. At this point, all the wonderful horror stories and warnings of stolen credit card numbers came rushing through my head. Don’t let your credit card leave your sight, much less your possession. Did he have one of those little copiers over there, so he could make a duplicate of my card? Was he planning a trip to Vegas?

After someone had used one my credit cards for an extravagant trip to Vegas, I’d been extremely vigilant on where my cards went. But I was stuck. I didn’t have any cash and I had to pay somehow, so with a sense of dread, I handed over my card.

He came back a minute later, my card stick sticking out of the little plastic tray with a receipt to sign: just how it was done when I was a kid. At this point, I thought, hey, this is kinda cool.

I said thanks and was on my way. Although, I was left wondering if my card was about to fund someone else’s trip to Vegas, or if I just had a very nice unexpected experience. I’ll wait until my next credit card statement to see if I’ll visit that gas station again.