Sweatin' and Swingin' to the Oldies

Did everyone have a great holiday season? While it's not officially over until after the ball falls on New Year's Eve, I'm sure many of you are already obsessing about "getting back to the gym" and going right on that diet. Soon enough, there will be those pesky New Year's resolutions, that you'll proclaim with braggadocio as you glide your hand over your midriff: 

"I'm going to lose 15 pounds by Jan. 5." 

You know what happens—you do your taxes instead.

Let's say it's the late '70's, you live somewhere in The Caldwells, and you're doing these things. Your polyester/darcon blend pant suit is getting tighter ... it's really time to work out! What's a guy or gal to do?

Back then, and even as recently as the the '90's, folks in The Caldwells were not afforded super-local workout options like New York Sports Club, Anytime Fitness in West Caldwell, or Curves in Caldwell.

Counting Calories the '70's Way

Well, there were some "dietetic" (a big buzzword back then) food items on the market back then that the Shop-Rite carried, and I know this because my mother (a good example of a housewife in The Caldwells at the time) bought them there by the truckload.

Pillsbury once had a product called "Figurines" that were an early version of a meal replacement power bar. Shortly after hitting the market, much like the early version of Tab cola, there was a report about them being harmful to lab rats. I recall my mother being fine after having them—but her whiskers were never the same. She switched off to an emergent powder-based drink called "Alba '77," which is still made today, sans the year in its name. While we'd watch "Uncle Floyd" every night on TV-3—the closest thing to our own local cable channel—she'd do this unwieldy bicycle wheel thing she grabbed at Sears that might have done more bad than good. 

If you wanted to join a "health club" (a predominant term back then) within the boundaries of The Caldwells, there were just two choices—one was ladies only and the other iz going strong today. 

What a Racquet!

Tennis was big in the '70's—the sport went along with the athletic wear of the day, and Caldwells folk played it like crazy. Just take a look around the towns to get an idea—Kiwanis Oval, Westville and Cedar Street pools and more places had large amounts of courts that during the Carter administration were filled with amateurs and more serious ball bouncers. My aforementioned mom even had a racquet, shoved in the trunk of the Caddy—but I think it got more use as a guitar by me. 

Further proof of tennis being a game of choice in these parts comes in the existence of Tiger Racquet Club. Located at just about the very end of Fairfield Place—barely in West Caldwell and just feet from being in Fairfield—the club opened in the late 1970s and was immediately a big hit. It was very much a mecca of tennis, containing an airplane hanger's worth of courts.

I always saw children and adults at Westville pool with collared shirts with the club's logo on it (and a paw), since they were enrolled in summer camps there. Racquetball was also on the menu and there were courts for that brutal, yet popular game.

Today, the place is called Tiger Tennis and Fitness and it's still going strong—the courts are congested every day of the week, but the gym never feels too crowded. I'm a member, and it's a bit like time traveling back to the '70's or early '80's going there—the restaurant is gone (hey, did anyone ever eat there?), but the place has retained much of its old-school feel, complete with the exterior rock finish. If you go there, look for the grunting guy with funny hair on the elliptical machine with a book, iPod, drinking coffee and watching TV, and say hello to your Caldwells Patch writer. 

"Elaine's" Chain Makes a Claim

In the Essex Mall, in the double-size store that is now the Asian food place, was the venerable Elaine Powers. The workout "salon" was a ladies-only health club that at its peak in the 1980s had hundreds of locations nationwide. The one in West Caldwell seemed to be very busy, and lasted until the early '80's. I know this not because my mother went (or did she?), but because I was fascinated with it.

To minimize embarrassment for the clientele while bending and lunging, the windows and doors were completely covered with thick curtains. To us, the ladies entering could have been going anywhere on the other side of them, doing God knows what. The members themselves when going in and making their means of egress, were of no help on the clues front; they looked only vaguely athletic in terms of apparel and seemed (to us at least) as if they were trying to be covert. It was the '70's and early '80's—looking back, I suppose I shouldn't have expected women to come out of EP full of brio, or doing jumping jacks while shouting, "I have been given Elaine's Powers!" but I digress. 

One day, we were sitting on our bikes in front of the place. The window coverings had aroused our suspicions to a fever pitch—we were trying to peek in every time the door opened. Then we saw an opportunity for mischief.

"Wait a minute," my pal said to me. "They can't see out, right?"

"We can't see in," I countered, not yet picking up on my buddy's point.

"Notice those carriages over there?"

I looked over at the eastern corner of the strip mall, where the last store met Medi-Mart. There sat a mass of hulking shopping carts randomly placed, some moving down the slight incline, groaning under their own weight. These weren't the sissified shopping carts of today that weigh less than an iPod, these were 100 percent pure metal and offered a nice "clang" if they hit something. Something clicked in my head. I looked over at my friend, and his evil grin confirmed that he was thinking the same thing.

Looking as nonchalant as two kids could, we hopped off our bikes, ran a couple of carts to the front of Elaine Powers, and parked them directly in front of the door. We hopped back on the bikes, and stationed ourselves in front of Book World. Within a minute or two, "Ka-Bam!"—a lady who just finished exercising came out and nailed the carts with the door. They started rolling, and so were we—it was just another day in suburbia.

While Tiger Racquet Club and Elaine Powers were here in The Caldwells, not everyone went there. Many folks (including my father) went to the "new construction" route and melted away the fat at Jack LaLanes in Fairfield, which opened in 1980. Others went to the Jack's in Livingston and even the YMCA over there.

Jogging, of course, was another big fad, and when not taking it to the streets, people would go over to the track at James Caldwell High School, which back then was not gated and locked often like it is now, but didn't have that nice running-friendly material on the ground. I left a piece of my knee there running track in '79.

Related Links:

1. This clip of early-'80's commercials contains a Elaine Powers spot—you have to love the offer of $7.50 a month! Hurry, the offer ends at the end of February, 1984! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yGhgdGzUGo8

2. By the way, Elaine Powers the person never existed—it was a made-up name! Proof and further EP info is here: 

http://www.nytimes.com/1981/01/26/business/business-people-elaine-powers-founder-plans-diet-formula.html?sec=health

3. Tiger Tennis and Fitness' current Web site:  http://www.tigertennisandfitness.com

Here's the Second Remember When? Quiz:

1. There's a sewer plant located at the end of Pine Tree Place in West Caldwell, which is off of Passaic Avenue. Behind that, what's the large span of land called? There are variations on the exact name, so exceptions will be granted!

2. What is the name of the highway or parkway (hint) that was supposed to run through this area?

See you next time for more "Remember When?"