My Rights > Your Rights…Right?

rights

A year or so ago, the hubs and I were kicking off our Saturday errand running at the bank. For some reason, we had to go in and the line was a bit slow. The woman in front of us was talking on her cell phone. Loudly. So loudly that I became aware of her pregnancy troubles; her friend’s fight with her boyfriend, and various other details I seemed pretty content living without knowing. At one point, I either made a comment about her talking so loud or asked directly for her to quiet her conversation when she WHIPPED around went Shaniqwa on my ass. She ended her little tirade with, “I HAVE RIGHTS!”

Yes dear, I’m pretty sure that’s EXACTLY what Martin Luther King Jr. was talking about in his I Have a Dream speech. You being a jackass in public with your cell phone. (In general this is a huge problem. We have had to move tables in restaurants because people were talking so loud on their cell phone and instead of the waitstaff telling the man to take his conversation outside, they just watched us move tables. And when the man moved to another table close to us again, they did nothing. They got an earful from me. The place I get an oil change has a sign at the counter that says “No Cell Phone Conversations At the Counter.” They’re awesome.)

Anyways.

Sure. People have rights. We all have rights. Some more than others, sure. We can vote (yes, you may need an ID. But that’s okay. You probably need an ID to cash a check or buy booze. It’s not discrimination, it’s a law that makes sense.) We can have our guns. The press can say whatever it wants whether it’s true or not, this seems to get worse around election times. But we all have rights.

Sure.

However, does your right to be a jackass on your cell phone supersede my rights not to be forced to listen to it? How about smoking? Did you know people still like to smoke? Really! Head over to Europe, happens all the time. Some poor saps even sit outside the bars in the winter for their smoke, all huddled up blackening their lungs. I smoke fags when in Europe…ya know, when in Rome?? (I can’t inhale though or it makes me sick so I pretty much just look like an 11 year old smoking fags but at least I’m giving it the old college try.)

But the government has come in and said that you can’t smoke in buildings anymore including bars and restaurants. Huh. Why? I mean, I love it. When I lived in Texas I couldn’t go to the bars that allowed smoking. My hair would stink and I’d roll in around midnight having to shower or Fabreze my hair and my clothes would have to be left in the garage until I could wash them. BUT, that was MY CHOICE. To stay away from those places. And I kind of think that’s a win/win. The government stays out of small business on this matter and they CHOOSE whether or not they want smoking in their bar and we CHOOSE whether or not we want to go. Good deal.

But what if I didn’t get to choose? What if YOUR rights put me in danger but I didn’t get to CHOOSE not to be affected by them. Hmmmmmmm, that’s a conundrum (I just typed that word without spell check. I rule!) I guess there are times when the government’s intervention is just a wee bit helpful in our lives (that hurts to say. Really.)

Vaccinations are one of these times.

rights

I’ve stayed out of this topic for a few reasons. First, it seems too simple to argue. Vaccinate your kid, protect them from others who are not vaccinated and primed carriers of disease. EZPZ. Get’r done at the check up time when you get to see how your baby compares to the rest of babies on the moronic growth chart that never meant anything to me but Doctor Byron still told me about it (by the way, Oscar never even registered on that thing. I finally asked Dr. Byron to grab a chart two years older than Oz to see how he did there. Bingo.)

My Grandpa had polio so he got to spend his childhood in an Iron Lung:

rights2

Hey, that looks fun!

But we forget. We are told that vaccines cause Autism so we skip vaccines (hey, remember when we were told that the low fat, high carb diet was best…or the whole cholesterol/heart disease thing?) But see, with vaccines, we have numbers. Numbers of deaths before vaccines, numbers after.

I actually read an anti-vac statement that said only 450 people a year die from measles. This is your argument not to vaccinate? How about if all 450 people are those you know and love including all of your children…every year. Does it matter then? Basically what this number is saying is that no one close to me has died from measles so don’t vaccinate.

MKay. Measles is spread through the air. There are people who are not able to get the vaccine or are diseased enough that they can not fight the virus if exposed. Do they have rights? Are they less then yours to be an idiot and not vaccinate? If your CHOICE stumbles into my RIGHTS  not to be diseased, well, you lose. You may not blow smoke in my face or cough measles at my baby. You have no rights that will infect others. None.

Why do you think you do?

If you ask 99.9% of  parents who have children with autism if we’d rather have the measles versus autism, we’d sign up for the measles.

Jenny McCarthy

p.s. Hey Jenny, how about you just stick to showing us your boobies in magazines and leave the heavy stuff to us kthxbye.

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Monday Bacon: Hangry, Dog Pooping, and PreGame-Eulogy

hangry

At some point north of 40, I realized that when my body said it’s time to eat…it was time to eat. I had a window of course, but it’s gotten shorter through the years and hard training doesn’t help. When I’m hungy, I need food. Without it, a slight headache comes on which turns into full on annoying pain and if still not addressed, all out HAnger.

Which is completely understandable when you’re hanging out with a group of folks who train, they understand keeping the beast at bay. But when you’re with family or friends who have talked themselves into a lifestyle where good food isn’t necessary throughout the day, that can present problems. Traveling with non-eaters is nearly impossible. I remember last year when Bigg traveled to Mexico for work and his Rep drove him around for over three hours after landing trying to find his favorite restaurant (no, don’t bring up the fact that if this was the best and favorite restaurant of this local he should have obviously known where it was. I asked that already.) But after a five hour flight and three more hours driving in Mexico, my hubs finally told the guy that he needed food. Now.

Look, if Matt got his stern voice on while telling the story, I can only imagine how that came out in Mexico. I picture something like this…

hangry1

Feed me or die.

True story. Heehee.

This past weekend, we were at a birthday party for ProStrongman Sam McMahon which pretty much meant that at least 85% of that room understood hangry. In fact, one local Strongman’s fiance was on the verge of hangry so we quickly directed her to the meat and cheese platter already set up before the birthday boy got there. Usually, all that’s needed among people who train is a quick, ‘geez, I’m kind of hungry’ that elicits a universal response from those around them of trying to find food before it gets out of hand.

We get it. Hangry is bad. We avoid it by pre-gaming. Matt ate nearly a pound of his burger and rice mix prior to getting ready to go to the party (which had amazing food there waiting for us. Bonus.) If someone around me says they’re hungy, it’s addressed. If I’m out and about for a while, I’ll make sure I have a snack even if it’s just a jar of almonds in the car (not recommended in sub-zero weather if you like your teeth.) When I fly, I take at least two Tuna Lunches with me. If it’s a big flight, four. Plus a protein shaker with a baggie full of back up protein. As god as my witness, I will not HAnger.

True story.

In other news, this guy…

hangry2

Since our Wisconsin Governor seems to be a current front runner for the GOP Presidential Candidate, it’s open season on Scott Walker. I guess people hate him. Like, really really hate him. Now, if one of these people speaking out is a jilted girlfriend from the past, I’ll understand the hate. But hating a politician is weird to me. (No, I don’t hate Obama. But I don’t believe he loves America or Americans and has not been a good President. Hate? No. I don’t know him.)

So much so that when I read the following clip off one non-fan yesterday on the Facebook about a story that was recanted (due to it being a lie but no one wants to hear that) I shook my head. Here’s what she wrote:

I hate him so bad that when I lived down the street from him in Wauwatosa, I’d make sure when I walked my dog that he would poop in Walker’s yard every day. It made me feel better knowing my dog pooped in his yard. I cleaned it up of course because my point was already made by the elimination act. 

What. The. Fuck.

I can’t even wrap my head around that crazy. Sooooooo, you HATE a man you don’t know so you had your dog poop in his yard each day? And that was satisfying to you in some way and then you actually admitted it on the internet? I bet you told your friends too, right? And not one of them said, “you’re a fucking idiot”? You need new friends.

Moving on…

hangry3

As mentioned, we were getting our birthday party celebration on for Sam McMahon on Saturday. It’s kind of rare that Matt and I get together with this group in a non gym setting so I was pretty excited. Sam’s wife, Julie, made sure we had delicious food; great wine and beer, and cupcakes to keep us in line.

At some point, as I was talking to our dear friend and wedding officiant, Swede, I kind of realized that the room was filled with some of the best of the best in our local strength world. Champions, ProStrongman, Pro Bodybuilder, record holders, gym owners who provide the setting to get better each week…and one ProStrongman mom who I absolutely adored. All here to celebrate Sam. It was a great night.

Filled with lots of laughter and good stories. Many stories about Sam which is fun. But with every story, there was a common theme. That he is an amazing strength athlete and highly respected in our little world and loved very much by his peers. I think that’s pretty cool. I think it’s even cooler that it was upstairs of their favorite pub and not at a funeral home. Cuz that’s usually when we eulogize people, when they’re not even here to hear it. That’s kind of bullshit. Let’s keep in the habit of telling amazing people we think they’re amazing while they’re still standing, eh?

And if you have wine and cupcakes…even better.

Politics is the art of looking for trouble, finding it everywhere, diagnosing it incorrectly and applying the wrong remedies.

Groucho Marx 

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Debate Team

debate

You may have noticed that the tosabarbell posts have been few and far between lately. Maybe you didn’t notice, that’s okay too. But for those who have and wondered aboot it, here’s why….I’m sick of the internet. Tired. Sick. Fed up with. Done. Well, not done, but nearly done.

The amount of bickering and arguing and finger pointing is at an all time high and I’m just bored with it all. Who knows, this post may be boring. Here, let me make it interesting…

post

Gregor Edmunds is always a good palette cleanser.

That’s better.

Anyways.

It is barely in me these days to find meaning on the screen. There is so much absolute shite out there that I become more and more attached to my Candy Crush and less likely to look at anything else except panda video’s.

Conversations quickly turn into debates which quickly deteriorate into calling each other names and then taking to the internet even further to get people on your side. And I guess that’s the crux of my frustration. Why do you need people on your side? Keeping conversations going that should have stopped 50 posts ago so that your point of view can be solidified among your peers.

High School. And in case I haven’t said it before, I hated High School. Sharing our view on a matter that is important to us should drive debate, not initiate a fight. Here’s my view, what’s yours? Well, I disagree. Does it matter? Probably not. If it does and we would be better off in the long run to find a solution, let’s find a solution. In private, on the phone or in person if possible. Me and you. Not all of our friends plus our FB friends who we don’t even really know. You and me…solving the world’s problems. But probably not, just solving our own. Mutually respecting each other’s right to say what is in our hearts and minds and going from there. Avoiding the “your’re just a hater” rhetoric that instantly (in my mind) classifies you as an 8th grader who never learned how to disagree. No one asking for back-up; it’s a debate after all, not a fucking 9-1-1 call.

Anytime a person or group is pitted against each other, I become wary of both sides, no matter who I agree with. I don’t want anything to do with it. I’ll state my view if I feel led to do so and move on. If my view is seen as ignorant and called out as such, I’ll listen. I may agree or disagree with the feedback but I will give it some thought even if I don’t reply. Because we used to be a society that actually did care about what our peers thought of us. That’s okay. It means we acknowledge that there are other people in the world  and in order for us to work or coexist productively, we need to find common ground . Weird, eh?

But that’s not popular. And I’ve aboot had it. So in order to bring fun back to the interwebz, here’s my own “Debate threads” drinking game. Find your favorite Rye (or Bourbon if you’re out of Rye but why in the hell are you out of Rye?) and drink when…

1) The word “hater” is used

2) The phrase “you started this when you…” is used

3) Someone types “Lol” (also Lulz, Lolz, or Oh Ha Ha.)

4) Someone slams another from over 10 posts above (this gets harder as the game goes on)

And lastly, one of my favorite hated sayings,

5. Well we’ll just agree to disagree. (No dick, you just disagreed. STFU.)

And if this doesn’t work to make the webz more fun, there’s this…

…not surprisingly, this cracks me the fuck up.

Oh! Come and see the violence inherent in the system! Help! Help! I’m being repressed!

Monty Python

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Special Snowflake’s

snowflake

Or…it doesn’t matter if you are a special snowflake if there are a hundred tons of other special snowflakes around you.

It seems there is no end in sight for folks posting their training video’s and as I’ve always said, ‘you post it,  you own it.’ Now, training video’s can be very cool. Most of us have already seen Hafthor’s historic log walk from last weekend’s World Strongest Viking, Strongman Champion League’s season kick-off. But in the event that you live under a rock, here ya go…

…pretty cool, eh? Also cool is how Hafthor gives honor to the former record holder, and how cold Marcel looks. Heh.

That, my friends, is a special snowflake.

Us? Meh, not so much. But our PR’s are ours to own and if they make us happy, then by all means post it. The lift may be ugly, it’s a PR after all. We may get excited enough to be a douche to our bar after but hopefully we grow out of that silliness. But PR’s are worth celebrating if you’ve been working hard for it (no, a 30# PR for someone training for a few weeks or even a couple months is not a PR. It’s progress. JHMFC, how is that not recognized by your coach?)

Anyways.

If your PR is a 100kg power clean and it makes you happy, then by all means post it. If your PR is 130kg clean and jerk, by all means, celebrate. But what gets lost in the “the world is all about me and look how strong I am” youtube’s, is that actually…your PR isn’t really all that strong. I get it, it’s STRONGEST for you. But when you start looking around the rest of the strength world, especially competition numbers, you get a little splash of reality right in the face.

Oh well. Such is life. This week I hit a PR strict (I say strict because people don’t understand the term “press.” Many believe that a knee bounce is not a push press if it’s just a slight dip. If you do, you’re wrong) press of 60kg. This has been a goal for a year and a half. Why so long? Well, because the training window is short. To press big, you need to press and there is only a 6-8 week training period I have in a year to hit that. Once I get out of volume training, I’m off to throwing drills and practice and no longer have the time to work on a heavy press without under recovering. But I need to be far enough out of my volume training to have recovered from it, it’s tricky for this ‘ol gal. In fact the last time I tried it, it was almost a year ago from the day.

But this time I got it and got it well. A minor sticking point when I started up and the rest was ‘no worries.’ It was a good PR for me (no, I didn’t get video.) It was probably one of the most satisfying PR’s for me in my training life. Why? Because I love the press. It’s rarely done anymore. Oh sure, the push press’ are all over the place. There’s the Strongman press which is almost like a standing bench press and those numbers are fun too. But they don’t lock out and I tell ya what, that last inch and a half of lockout could be all the difference between success and failure. (I get it, putting 300# or more overhead without a push off the floor is a feat of strength. I agree. Now lock it out. I’m just sayin’.)

Anyways, I love the press. It’s hard. It’s rarely done anymore. It is a feat of strength, especially for women.  I think I’ve seen Kristin Rhodes post some amazing press video’s but, ya know, she’s World’s Strongest Woman. Sooooo…

For some reason, a throwing friend took the time to throw a little shade on my PR and hint around that a 135# press would look cooler than a 60kg press. Whatever. People need to nitpik I guess. But when you no longer see me posting on my log, you can figure out why. Fuck it. This is exactly why I’ve never kept an on-line training log in the first place which I explained when I started it. 40kg plus a 45# bar comes out to roughly 133 pounds (for those who train in pounds.) I guess my two pound less than 135# lift wasn’t as cool looking because it didn’t have an iron plate on each side?? I’ve also seen this person nitpik his wife into tears at Games so I shouldn’t be surprised. Whatev.

But even with that, I’m not a special snowflake. Nor do I need to be. Look, lift. Just train and lift. PR’s will come and please celebrate them. But know this, there are very few special snowflakes in the world and you’re probably not one of them. Be okay with that. If you have some natural talent and your DNA allows you to build more strength than the next guy, then find a good coach and exploit that shit. Because you may actually become a special snowflake.

Cool, eh?

If your ego starts out, “I am big. I am special” you’re in for some disappointments when you look around at what we’ve discovered about the universe. No, you’re not big. No, you’re not. You’re small in time and space. And you have this frail vessel called the human body that’s limited on Earth.

Neil deGrasse Tyson

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