Bajai Kulture 9.2:05

Bajai Kulture 9.2:05

The Roar of the Crowd
by KC Bajai

Somewhere in an old photo album, possibly in the possession of my mother, is a picture of me in my stage debut. The second grade Thanksgiving play. I think they made me a pilgrim. While everyone else is in some kind of period costume, I'm up there wearing standard issue second grader glasses, a turtleneck shirt and striped pants... forgetting my lines. If it weren't for that picture i would have probably blanked out the whole event, vehemently denying it until publicly unlocking the memory in a gush of tears on some afternoon talk show.

All I remember about how I got into this situation, is one of the teachers asking for volunteers.

I was standing in line waiting for whatever second graders lined up for back then. (This is when lines were called lines and not "queues.") And one of the teachers came out and said something like, "I need a volunteer." Cleverly I thought to myself - and yes i still remember this part - if i raise my hand nonchalantly I'll get picked. And it worked! I got picked, for the second grade Thanksgiving Play! More cleverly the teacher did not announce what we were volunteering for. Despite this unexpected turn, I volunteered several more times throughout my life until I finally learned my lesson after being discharged from the NAVY - which itself stands for Never Again Volunteer Yourself.

UGH!!

The first few years of my life i was a cute and happy baby. Those pictures are precious. My dad always seemed to photograph me smiling and laughing. Then I grew into a nerd. I didn't know I was a nerd, I didn't even know the word existed. I did know however, that I was different from most everybody else around me, or maybe i just felt different. Like I wasn't supposed to be there... but that's another story.

In any case, there would be no more plays, and no more performing on stage for me. With the exception of a few fashion shows in which I strutted my stuff on the catwalk... meeeOWWW! I kept myself off stage and in the background for many, many years, probably until I started producing and organizing variety shows for the magazine i started (once again, another story.)

If you were to take any of my group fitness classes you'd never in a million years believe the shy kid I was... or maybe you would. I've read in books written by egg-heads that we often mature into the opposite of what we were as children. In fact, I've done such a good job of reinventing (and subsequently liking) myself people have wondered if I'm Narcissistic. They've made me wonder that very same thing only to discover that the opposite is closer to the truth. Sometimes when we try to reach a goal, to affect changes to ourselves we tend to over compensate ~ to over shoot the mark. We have to zero in on the target. Maybe my, at times, bombastic personality is like shooting an air ball from half court only to have the ball go clear over the backboard. I'm zeroing in on my personality target.

I'm getting closer and closer every time i step in front of an audience. That audience is the handful to over 50, at times ~ mostly college students ~ who come to my group fitness classes. I'm not sure this character actually exists, but I feel like a cross between a college professor, a personal trainer and stand up comedian when I'm leading a class. I feel highly confident, I don't take myself too seriously, I explain what muscles the exercises are working and i even tell the occasional (bad) joke, make a (bad) pun, use sound effects and I've even been known to bark and/or growl, encouraging the class to do the same.

I suppose it's a bit different than most aerobics teachers' techniques, many of whom yell, count every move (that would drive me crazy) and sometimes worry too much about how they look doing the moves. My guess is aerobics teachers learn from other aerobics teachers and copy their techniques and choreography. But since I've never taken aerobics classes I come with a different style. (That style could be called Ignorance.)

In many respects I approach group fitness as if it's stand up, part monologue, part lecture, dynamic motivation and encouragement as if I'm rooting for my children telling them, they can do it! (They'd better do it!) I've coaxed push ups out of women who've never done them in their lives. A woman who comes to one of my classes just turned 70 and she's knocking out push ups like Rocky Balboa! (Second appearance for this story.)

Honestly, I get such a rush out of leading these classes i can't tell whether that rush is from being the center of attention or from the exercises. (Shhhh, maybe a little bit of both.) I think that rush spills over into the audience too. I can see that they are getting a good workout and i try to make sure everyone is safe too; not working too hard, etc.

I "opened" at SJU a while back to a very appreciative audience. They hadn't heard any of my jokes or wise cracks yet, the ones I've tested on Temple & USP; they hadn't done french fries either ~ french fries is a hit record!

Ha, that second grade Thanksgiving play still messes with my psyche. My nerd years in West Philly, my maturation in Overbrook Park and my birth of cool in Center City, I think about them and smile. I've left those days behind me and continue to evolve, but all those little parts of me are still inside. I wasn't such a big hit on the elementary school stage, but I've decided that stage was far too small for me. I'm performing on the life stage these days, two shows at Temple Mondays and Tuesdays, with matinees those days at the YMCA and 12th Street Gym; a single show Wednesdays at USP and two shows on Thursdays at SJU and 12th. Sometimes I get a round of applause at the end of the class and I blush - still, what i really enjoy is the laughter when I make historical references to torture and/or slasher flicks.

An educated group is my best audience.

PS: Between the time I wrote this and the time I posted it, I apparently offended a "customer" with one of my action anecdotes. While the rest of the customers were cracking up when i hit them with the punch line, one put her stuff down and walked out. I knew I'd hear about it and i did. I also knew I'd write about it, and I did... here it is... another hit record.