When my mom turned 36, she started working out at an athletic club. She got up at the ding of dawn, left for class and was back by the time we were waking up. She worked hard, reshaping her body back to how it was, or nearly, before she had four children. One morning, she came home wearing a yellow t-shirt over her blue leotard. Across the front of the shirt was written, "Body by Ted: He Makes Me Sweat." My brothers and I were agog.
"Who is TED?" I asked.
"The aerobics instructor," she said.
"That's GROSS, mom," Marco said.
We were young, but we nevertheless intimated the prurience of the slogan's innuendo.
I for one needed to get a look at this Ted, this guy who inspired my mom to embarrass us with his t-shirt at 7 in the morning. Once I saw him, I relaxed. He was clearly not a threat, even though he looked like a skinny Tom Selleck. He was gay.
Soon after that morning when she came home wearing the t-shirt, my brothers and I created a song called "Body by Ted." The chorus..."he makes me sweat." We played this one on our tennis racket guitars during our concerts in front of the bathroom mirror. It was our number one hit.