Main Street Gene, Pippi Longstocking and the Circle of Life

As a fitness educator, it’s all too easy to get tunnel vision and think that everyone should make healthy choices and see the obvious benefits of regular exercise and healthful eating. But it’s important to step back and see the broader picture. People make the choices they do for their own reasons. Sometimes it’s because of personal preferences, competing objectives, fear or even a lack of acknowledgement that a health conscious lifestyle holds treasures well worth the time, effort and discomfort. Sometimes it’s because of circumstances we find ourselves in that make it more difficult to pursue. Sometimes it’s a combination of the two.

I don’t know what led to the misfortunes and declining health of the gentleman who “lived” on the curb in front of my house, and slept, from all appearances, in his car. But one thing I do know about Gene Artemow is that, to me and my kids, and everyone I saw him talk with, he was a kind, concerned and caring man.

We used to listen to him cough and hack between cigarettes as he floated around the intersection of Angela and Main St. But between his struggling to get a smooth, unimpeded breath, we heard him exchange pleasantries and swap stories with nearly everyone who crossed his path. His joy-filled, raspy “Hi", his remembering so many names and his genuine interest in you and how your day was going was compelling and uplifting to dozens, maybe hundreds of people who frequented the Main Street shops and restaurants.

One night I had left my car on Angela when it had been marked a tow away zone for a bike race scheduled the next morning. At around 4 a.m. I was awoken by a police officer that knocked on my door because Gene knew the car was mine and directed the officer to my house so I could move it before they took it away.

On Halloween this year, I passed Gene with my costumed kids on the way to trick or treating. Gene couldn’t have had much money, but as we passed him he reached into his pocket and gave my eight-year-old daughter a dollar.

A few months ago he asked me if it bothered me that he hung out on a swatch of cardboard just below and left of my front stoop. I was sad and touched by his question and assured him we were glad he was there and that Main Street wouldn’t be the same without him.

As I sit here writing my column for this week I’m looking out at the empty spot that used to attract the warm, friendly exchanges he had with so many downtowners every day.

And it’s not the same without him.

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This past weekend my younger son and a crop of ridiculously cute and talented kids brought their dedication, skill and boundless energy to the Pleasanton Civic Arts production of Pippi Longstocking at the Firehouse Arts Center. Above are pictures from after the first and second performances of my son’s cast. My older son came up from Long Beach and his mom and I filled up a good portion of the theater with our friends and families to cheer him and his costars all on. At dinner before the show, my daughter clinked her glass to command attention in the crowded, noisy eatery and proudly delivered a simple but profound toast: “To Ian!”

A bit later she quieted us all down for one more: “To Gene!”

Somehow, in her mind, the two toasts went together.

Indeed.

Dan is a nationally certified personal fitness trainer and former continuing education faculty member of the National Academy of Sports Medicine and the American Council on Exercise. He is the owner and head trainer at Tri Valley Trainer in Pleasanton, which provides personal training, small group fitness and nutrition guidance. He can be reached at Dan@TriValleyTrainer.com