I cleared my throat and took a bite of my food. “We’ve focused too much on me. What about you? Is your real name Bubba?”
He snorted. “No. Just a nickname, but everyone’s called me Bubba or Bub since I was little.”
“What’s your given name?”
He gave me a shy look. “Humph. You’ve got to promise not to tell. But my mother named me Gawain after some knight. My dad couldn’t see his kid going through life called Gow, so he changed it to Bubba.”
“I see.” Actually, I could see Bubba named for the courteous, humble, and compassionate Gawain, but I agreed about the awkwardness of shortening it. “I understand you play football. Is that your desired profession? I would think it would combine well with personal training.” They both sounded impossible to me.
He snorted. “Naw. I’m only second string on the Badgers. Not nearly good enough for a pro career even though my old man would have loved it if I was.” He shoveled in a bite of food, but there was some disappointment and pain in his expression.
“You seem very adept at athletics to me.”
“Thanks. It’s funny though. They say I’m a pretty good middle linebacker, but I’m not mean enough to be great.” He shook his head. “Imagine having to be mean to do your job. But I get it. The guy who’s first string in my position, jeez, sometimes I think he’s going to kill somebody.”
It wasn’t hard to imagine Bubba being too gentle to be ruthless on the field. “Perhaps it’s not a bad thing. I should think being mean and angry would be contrary to your stated goals of increasing people’s health and well-being.”
He cocked his head and smiled as if that thought had never crossed his mind. “Wow. You know, that’s right. And football’s really killer on the body.” He put a hand on my arm. “Not flag football. That’s one of the reasons flag got invented. It’s a way to play the game without hurting people’s brains and shit. But regular football? Man, I wouldn’t wish that beating on my worst enemy.”
“Then it sounds like you’re lucky you’re not good enough to play pro.”
He smiled bigger, like a weight had been taken off his shoulders. “You’re right. It’s better to be someone who makes people stronger and healthier. Like a personal trainer. The really cool job, though, is physical therapy. That’s when you actually put people back together. I mean, those guys are great. They know so much about the body and how it works, that they can fix it. Wow. They amaze me.” He shook his head and chewed.
Bubba struck me as an optimistic guy. He smiled and laughed frequently. But I’d never seen him light up the way he did when he mentioned physical therapy. And this was the second time he’d mentioned it only to say it was an impossible dream. “Well, why not go for physical therapy then? It obviously inspires you.”
This time, he looked struck. “Oh no, that stuff’s hard. I mean it’s almost like medicine. I could never do that.”
“Why not?”
“I’m not smart enough.”
“Bubba, that’s nonsense.”
He studied my face. “You don’t know how lucky you are, Sean. Being so smart. You can do anything you want. Anything. You could probably be president or an astronaut, if you wanted. A lot of people don’t have that chance, ya know?”
That gave me pause. I’d never considered that before. What would it be like to really want to do something for a career but simply not have the raw intelligence to do it? That would be tragic. I could sympathize with the feeling though. I might have raw intelligence, but I didn’t have the raw social skills or raw sexual appeal to get what I wanted.
I shook my head firmly. “Pish posh. If you have the discipline to achieve such physical excellence, you could get your brain around physical therapy classes.”
“No, Sean,” Bubba said seriously. “That’s not the way it works. You have muscles, right? And all muscles can be trained. But you can’t make your brain bigger.”
“Of course you can. There are any number of techniques to increase rote memorization and the processing of learned information. And in any case, the analogy holds.” I was getting into the subject now, talking with my hands. “Some people are born gifted at fitness or with genetically promising physiques, correct? For example, someone who is built like me will never be an Arnold Schwarzenegger.”
Bubba watched me with a soft smile. “I suppose that’s true, but you can make huge improvements.”
“Exactly! So I have to work harder, and in a different way, perhaps, to get fit, than someone who is naturally good at it. But it can still be done. The same holds true for learning.”
Bubba scratched his beard. He looked like he wanted to agree with me but argue at the same time. “Yeah, but, see, I’m the first person in my family to go to college. My dad’s a mechanic. And his dad before him. And my uncle’s a plumber. We just don’t have those kinds of brains. I mean, everyone knows I’m not the smartest. Just ask the ALAs.” He shrugged and laughed. But maybe because I’d been the butt of plenty of jokes myself, I could see that it hurt him. And my heart suddenly got oddly warm and my throat tight.
“Albert Einstein’s father was a utility salesman. So what?” I argued.
Bubba snorted. “Come on! I’m no Albert Einstein.”
Well, that was true. I watched him eat for a minute and considered it. “Listen, a car isn’t that different from a human body. Both have a lot of specialized parts you need to learn to recognize and know how to fix. Your dad learned those things by working with someone who knew what to do and then practicing over and over. For that matter, it’s the same with plumbing. I bet your uncle wasn’t born knowing the names of all the pipes and wrenches and tools and…whatever else plumbers use.”
Bubba opened his mouth, closed it. “That’s true.”
I shrugged. “So. Just think of the human body as a sleek high-end Japanese model sedan.”
Bubba stared at me for a beat, then burst out laughing. “Sean, you crack me up!” He dipped his naan in the raita and bit off a hunk.
It must take a virtual cornucopia of food to keep that big body going. That big, beautiful body. Since I’d been making a study of potential partners, I had found my interest piqued by those who were big and fit and moved with effortless ease as if their bodies were a comfortable home. Like Bubba. Yes, exactly like Bubba.
“So, now that you’re all fixed up, what do you plan to do next?” Bubba asked.
“Next?” I blinked. “I’d rather thought the makeover principle was like the old movie that said, If you build it, he will come.” I waggled my eyebrows. I was only partially kidding. Surely what I’d already done was enough. Well, in addition to continuing my physical fitness training.
“No, I don’t think so. I mean, women like my body, but if I stay in the steam room all the time, who’s gonna see it? You’ve got to get out there. Show off the goods.”
I pushed up my glasses. “I can’t dispute that logic.” I dipped a piece of naan in tikka masala sauce and leaned over slightly to take it between my teeth. I didn’t want to get sauce on my new green sweater.