Something to be said about target audiences and demographics

6 12 2007

In the seemingly neverending quest to become more fit, I have taken to DVRing workout programs.  These workouts are usually done when Steve is not home as a simple leg lift causes a great deal of chaos and embarrassment.
Against the opinion of another trying-to-workout-more-boater, I recorded “All Star Workouts: Belly Dancing”.  Typically, I record “Shimmy” and not to toot my own abs, but I’m not so awful at it.  All Star, not so much. 
15 minutes later, I decide to throw in the cards, erase the show and try “All Star Workouts: Hip-Hop Dance”.
Right.
So.
I am white.
I am as white as they come. The only rhythm I have is humming “Duke of Earl” while driving 55 MPH.
MaDonna, my fearless urban instructor, seemed to know that she was going to be teaching a bunch of suburban housewives how to “funk it up”.
Each eight count move was repeated about five times and a sixteen count combo was repeated just as many times.
And not to get off topic, but fitness instructors, please stop lying to me.  While math may not be my strong suit, I know how to count.  Shouting “One more!” and me and then saying “Okay, one more time!” actually makes twice.  If you mean for me to do something twice, be honest with me.  It’s not like I haven’t caught on yet and don’t know that when you say “Last one!” you actually mean 1,000 more.
I digress.
So after a warm up, and the DJ “feeling” the workout, we began shaking our groove thang.
MaDonna and her Co-hort, Denise, knew all the names for the dances and made me feel increasing stupid and clumsy that I could not tap my toe twice and “beat the drum”.  Let’s not discuss the issues with “Chicken Head”.
And what about the two token white kids?  There was the guy, in a lime green shirt and a “you got served!!!” expression and the Thi-Theta-Kappa brunette who was thisclose to “UGH!”ing on every “hit”.
Right so MaDonna kept repeating the steps, “’cause I want you to get it.”  and then she’d turn to Denise and they’d exchange a knowing laugh.
However, their laughter made me work all the harder.  I worked up a sweat and by the end, I was popping and locking like Camron Diaz in that scene from Charlie’s Angels when she’s on Soul Train (see 28 seconds into the video at the bottom of this post if you’re unfamiliar).
The only reason I held on was the promise of a “great” ab workout at the end.
I guess MaDonna and I differ on what great is, as we did a set of oblique crunches.
After all was said and done, I erased my journey into hip-hop and watched Center Stage for the umpteenth time.

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