Well, if that's not a Kroc!

A nice $12 million addition to a great little town

     Every weekday morning at six am, I go to the Kroc Center to do what I call a “workout."  The exercise room there would make an NFL team proud.  I stretch a bit, and push on some machines and pull on some others, then mount a recumbent bicycle and briskly ride six kilometers. 

     I like to ride unit number twenty-two.  It is one of four almost identical units, all lined up with flat screen televisions mounted right in front.  I bring my ear plug speakers and watch Gretchen Carlson do the news.  I figure if I must hear all the disturbing and disgusting news, I would rather hear it from a nicely matured former Miss America, wearing a very short dress.

     Last week, at my usual 6:45, I strolled over to do my six kilometers on unit number twenty-two.  There was a guy on my bike, pedaling along as if he owned it.  He draped over on all sides.  The poor seat was completely enclosed---it had disappeared.  Units twenty-one, twenty-three and twenty-four were all vacant, but this fifty-year-old fat guy was smothering my bike.  He appeared to be there for the duration.

     I reluctantly mounted unit number twenty-four, but it just wasn’t the same.  It didn’t feel right.  As I pedaled along, listening to Gretchen, her voice was drowned out by shouts from the new guy.  He had his ear plugs on and was in his own private little world, slowly pedaling and shouting at the television.  “Atta boy!  Give him hell!”  He said, as Michelle Malkin attacked the current administration.  “Good work!  Don’t let him get by with that crap!”  He let go of a handlebar and shook his fist.   I continued to pedal as Lard Butt shouted encouragement to some swimmer on the sports news, then he laughed long and loud at something only he understood. 
    
     Next morning, I got there early.  At 6:30, when he came in, I was innocently pedaling along on MY bike.  Lard Butt grumbled as he wiped down and mounted unit number twenty-one and began to argue with the television.  The following day, when I got there, Lard Butt was smugly loping along on my bike, waving his middle finger at someone high up in our government.  A few minutes later, he shrieked so loud that I thought Gretchen must have uncrossed her legs and flashed him.  If so, even though I've been watching for it all season, I missed it.

     I thought about the situation.  I need to get my head on straight.  I realize that this man has as much right as I do to ride number twenty-two.  From all appearances, he needs the exercise more than I do.  I’d guess him to be about fifty pounds on the wrong side of three hundred, and he doesn’t carry his weight very well.   

     Mrs. Kroc built this place so people like us, Lard Butt and me, would have a nice, well-equipped place to take care of ourselves. A place we probably couldn’t afford otherwise.  If  I must ride a specific machine, I may just have to adjust my timing.  I must be willing to share that machine.  Why should I get all bent out of shape just because another old fellow comes in and tries to improve himself?  At least, he’s not sitting home, feeling sorry.  He’s out doing something.  Even with such a long way to go, he’s working at it.   He's trying.

     Now, I just get on whatever machine is available, and to tell the truth, I can’t tell much difference.  This morning, as I dismounted after my ride, Lardy looked over and said, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”  I guess we'll get along.  Anyway, now I'm after the rotten dude who's getting my parking place.

     Many of you may not have heard about the Kroc Center.  Ray Kroc built the McDonald’s Hamburger Empire.  After he died, his wife, Joan, needed to figure out a way to get rid of hundreds of millions of dollars before she died.  In 1998, she donated $90 million to the Salvation Army to build a community center in San Diego, California.  With the Salvation Army’s help, she wanted to create a center to minister to the needs of the community---physically, mentally, and morally.  She envisioned a place where anyone could afford to go and enrich their lives.

     Before she died in late 2003, she set aside $1.5 billion, a gift to the Salvation Army, to build community centers in cities all around the country.  The first few centers opened in 2009, and in 2010, the Kerrville center opened.  I think they spent about $12 million here, but we are a small community compared to many of the other locatioins.  They are working on a center for Norfolk, Virginia, that has a $100 million budget.  All told, there are to be twenty–seven Kroc Centers.  Most are already open, some are under construction, and a few are still being planned.

    Our center has a large gymnasium that doubles as a banquet hall.  We have three swimming pools, all outside.  The exercise room, as I mentioned,  is state of the art, with several dozen assorted exercise machines, four different types of bicycles, two long lines of treadmills, and the most elaborate weight room I’ve ever seen.  Immaculate, tiled locker rooms are provided for both major sexes.  There is a large chapel for Sunday services, a full commercial kitchen for catering, a small bistro-like health bar and sandwich shop, a boys' and girls' club, and a day care center.

     I never really cared to make a lot of money, but looking at what Mrs. Kroc has accomplished opened my eyes to something I never considered.  She demonstrated that there is a good reason to accumulate a lot of money, and she is showing how to put a fortune to good use.  She improved the lives of countless people, including two old fat men in Kerrville, Texas.

     This is the only center planned for Texas, which disappoints me.  I know she would have put one in Lubbock if she had only thought about it.

The family that plays together, stays together.  Thanks Mr. and Mrs. Kroc.