This is just getting awkward.  I really need to stop crying at the gym.  I’m not talking about hysterical crying so much as the all too occasional appearance of the solitary tear.  And considering the bizarre looks I keep receiving from fellow gym fanatics, sobbing might actually be less humiliating because there would appear to be some deep-rooted issue that warranted the crying.  So far there have been two episodes.

I blame the first  “unraveling” on Dr. Phil.  On that particular day at Crunch Gym, I had the option of watching “True Life: I’m Having a Summer Romance, “ or “The Dr. Phil Show.”  Normally I would have chosen “True Life,” as I have a special fondness for that program, in particular, the episode titled “True Life: I’m From Staten, Island.”  The only reason I chose Dr. Phil was because there are only so many times I can watch relationships that are flailing due to the fact that the people share a common lack of interest in each other but a need to be able to say the phrase “I’m having a summer romance.”  “So many times” comes out to around 5.5.  So yes, I chose Dr. Phil.

This episode followed the trials and tribulations of several meth addicts.  They weren’t particularly likeable, or even attractive for that matter, but something clicked, and tears began to fall gracefully down my face as I continued to sweat it out on the Arc Trainer.  I now have a lot of experience with and knowledge of meth addicts due to my obsession with “Intervention,” so to save a little face (if that’s even possible at this point) I am going to say that a current viewing of the same episode would not result in tears.

me thinking about meth addicts.  I clearly have many thoughts.
me thinking about meth addicts. I clearly have many thoughts.

The second gym breakdown occurred last Thursday morning while watching the painful fourth hour of the Today Show, with Kathy Lee Gifford and Hoda Kotb (which is somehow pronounced “Cot bee”).  The majority of this train wreck of a news show is spent quizzing tourists about important issues like beauty products and diet myths, and handing out gift cards to those who answer correctly.  Those who answer incorrectly receive Kathy Lee’s most recent CD.  But that’s beside the point.

Last Thursday they started a new segment emotionally titled “Everyone Has A Story.”  This is true, everyone does have a story, but I think this series suffers because not everyone wants to hear that story.  Anyway, the structure of this series is that a person (who has been carefully selected by the team over at NBC) tells his or her story, and then a professional singer serenades this person on the air, with a ballad written by Kathy Lee and some other guy (I can’t remember.)  The first story profiled was from a thirty-something man suffering from MS, its focus being the man’s father who displayed heroic qualities.  The stereotypically-moving story was told, complete with a dramatic photo montage, and then the man who plays “King Triton” in Broadway’s “The Little Mermaid” approached the piano and performed the song which I will call “My Hero.”  This may or may not be the actual title, but the lyrical repetition makes me think that even if I’m wrong, I’m not that wrong.  My mom put it best when she said that this song was an unsuccessful marriage of about five other bad ballads.

I don’t know why the three tears fell.  The subject was a stranger, the song bad, and the hosts irritating.  Maybe I’m just really moved by “The Little Mermaid.”  Or more likely, terrified of King Triton!

(Note – Call me if you’d like a personal performance of the ballad to judge for yourself)