“The YMCA is the leading nonprofit committed to strengthening individuals and communities across the country. At the Y, we’re here to help you find your “why” – your greater sense of purpose – by connecting you with opportunities to improve your health, support young people, make new friends and contribute to a stronger, more cohesive community for all.”
Yeah, sure. Listen to this.
So, when the clock struck my 50th birthday last year, I decided I needed to (somewhat) regain control of my health. It was time. Through the encouragement of a friend, who shall remain nameless (Kevin Conley), I took the leap in January 2025 and joined the YMCA of Lowell.
As you can imagine, the first few weeks, especially in those early, cold, hard days of winter, it was terrible. I am a morning guy, so I dragged myself out of bed in the dark, hopped into my frigid car and headed for my “workout”. First few visits were horrendous. Horribly weak. I would do literally 10 minutes on a treadmill. Maybe some 10 lb bicep curls between water BUBBLA visits. Seemed futile.
BUT…
What I quickly learned was that being a member of this 170+ year organization was that the true value and greatness was not about health and wellness; it is about the post-workout glory! It was about the locker room experience! The base, gritty, humility, and honesty of being a man. Sheepishly, I entered for the first time and realized this is what God intended for MAN-kind. Unadulterated, unabashed, unfiltered nude dudes sharing a few moments together before tackling their day. Men being men.
And so, I got over my hesitancy and joined the fray. HELLO BOYS!
The majority of my male cohorts were middle-to-advanced age gents just trying to better themselves, one shvitz at a time. Guys with sore hips, bad knees, shoulder replacements, heart conditions, impotency, failed marriages and the like. Battle-tested cats. Men who have seen it all. I liked it immediately.
As I soaked (pun intended) in those early visits, I witnessed some fascinating happenings that I would like to share with you.
Some locker room facts…
- Nudity:
Zero shame or humbleness. You rock out with your….well, ya know. That’s a rule. Sure, there are a few weaklings that mask themselves in some type of underwear/bathing suit/loin cloth-thingy. And to those I cry, “Do me a favor, Tyler, and screw! Get back to wherever you came from and take a tubby with the rest of the sorority. We don’t want you here.”
- Conversation:
You want to talk Trump, sports, nuclear war, your non-gonococcal urethritis, this is the place for you. No to mention the expletives! It’s like a sweaty swearing convention in there! I witnessed a guy just this week showing some other (willing) dude his disgusting foot fungus. No censorship…. and I love it.
- The Sights & Scenes
While the YMCA is an international landmark and treasure, they are not all the same. The Lowell YMCA (which, by the way, is run by amazing folks like Kevin Morrisey and Mike Hoey to name just a couple) is a bit different than most, I would contend. Ethnic, socio, religious, economic and any other ‘versities you can think of can all be found here, – front and center – everyday in the Mill City. It is a true Melting Pot and speaking of melting…to my next observation.
The Steam Room. Oh, the steam room. The amazing, uncompromising, confusing steam room at the Y-M-C-A. Where to begin? You exotic, demon son of a bitch, cavernous heat hole for the unclean. I have seen sights in there that would resemble a Harry Potter/Dr Suess fiction novel that spawn a scalding, sweaty, confused man-child.
Just a few examples…
I once sat in there between a fellow with one arm and another with one leg, waxing poetic about their limb inadequacies. The temptation for commentary was al-ARM-ing! Al-LEG-edly. (sorry, too easy)
Another time, I witnessed (5) Asian men loudly and raucously arguing about, what I can only pray, was the towel service, and not their Casper-colored steam-mate invading their Khmer convo?
And, of course, the dreaded one-on-one encounter with a stranger. Mano y mano. You don’t know whether to make small talk or curl up in a ball.
In closing, this place is the best! Like a modern-day Spartan village for guys that simply want to get in a workout, hang out naked, and do no harm.
No frills.
No clothes.
No shirt.
No shoes.
Full service!
The Y!
P.S. Now, remember to get this little ditty stuck in your head for the rest of the day…. “IT’S FUN TO STAY AT THE………………”
