Plan B

Posted on March 20, 2014 by tosabarbell

Or, what to do when you don’t inherit incredible genetics.

I was getting a mani/pedi the other day when a woman sat down in the pedi seat next to me. She was somewhat trim but had aged, as in, aged poorly. I guessed her to be late 50’s/early 60’s (but admittedly I really suck at guessing ages.) Anyways. She had kind of  a too much sun, too many shmokes skin thing going on and her face looked pretty tired. She was nice and friendly though and polite. I like polite. The employees at this particular shop know I have a black iron gym and know I train and one girl brought it up. The nice woman next to me says, ‘Oh, I’m too old for that.’ I said Black Iron training is certainly not for everyone but age is not a factor. Then I asked how old she was. 44. W!T!Ffffff!!!! When asked, I told her I’ll be 47 on Sunday. I honestly don’t think she believed me. Not because I’m anything special, but maybe just because she has aged SO poorly.

It got me thinkin about my genes. See, I have pretty crappy genes. Though my biological mother died at 21 in a car wreck, and though I believe she was very beautiful, she was on a crappy Hawaiian diet where  at some point that rice and sugar extravaganza would have caught up to her. It caught up to my tutu who slowly lost limbs to Diabetes. I have relatives who struggle with weight and I’m one of them. I’ve said it before many times, I’m a fat kid just staving off obesity (although Weight Watchers says I’m a fatty. F*k them.)

Anyways.

Fast forward to an awesome German dinner me and Bigg ate last night. A new place has opened up and we loved it. A comfortable German bier hall feeling with excellent food. Yeah ‘tosa. We talked about whether food or strength training will impact someones aging more. I vote food. Food is by far the determining factor as to how our body functions. We can strength train, but if we destroy our body later in the day with food, what’s the point? Sure, we’re strong (kind of.) But we are fighting chronic inflammation and we already know what that does for us. Nothing good. The clock is ticking on the inflammed, quicker than the rest of us. Unless we have a sleeping Aneurysm, than we’re screwed.

Moving on.

I noticed a picture of Sophia Loren (I know, I’m skipping around a lot, stay with me) on my throwing pal’s FB page (Herro Mona!) with a saying that she owes her looks to spaghetti or something . Ok, first off, I’ve always admired Sophia Loren’s look. My mother has a cousin who was a stunt double for Sophia Loren and looked uncannily just like her only stronger. It was SO glamorous having that in our family tree. She has aged so incredibly that I’d love to know her secret and no, I’m not believing spaghetti is one of them. So I googled for a picture of she and her mother. Ohhhhhhhhh. Rog. Check it out. Spaghetti didn’t build those looks, mommy did. Genetics, she haz them.

SO, bringing it all in. What do we do when we don’t have genetics giving us a helping hand in this aging thing. I mean, we want to age right? Or else we’re dead, and then I can’t rant and rave so, ya that sucks. I don’t have the Sophia Loren genetics, no offense Barbara Jean and Edward. Somewhere in my history I had a somewhat natural athlete, to them I say THANK YOU! Somewhere in my history I had a really confrontational, stern relative; okay, it was my Tutu. She was the shit, or so I’m told. I have some of her roughness. But I don’t have the genetics of longevity, I’ve already outlived my birth parents by over 25 and 6 years.

On to Plan B, taking care of myself. And no, I don’t mean eating leaves and running. I eat meat, lots of it. More carbs these days than I have for a long time but if the bodybuilder coach I have says I can then I’m on it. I train, as in strength train. And although I do push myself as much as I believe I can recover from (nightmares from 10×10 are still frequent), I don’t train like an asshole constantly driving myself into the ground. I lay out a plan, follow it, adjust as necessary as life determines. I follow one program, I don’t jump because something different has worked for someone else and then add in a few other things that I read someone else did, etc. I don’t allow someone to sell me a “random works” program. I do most things I can to be good to my body.

Lucky for me, Plan B also includes my lifestyle. I’m back up north where I belong in a great town with my guy. He is also committed to be strong and as healthy as Strongman can be (most days;) I am afforded the ability to sleep well, eat well, and train well. Believe me, I am thankful for that every day. I’ve been in situations where non of those things were happening. My time in Texas aged me, poorly. I was constantly stressed, constantly broke, constantly running, and seemingly constantly failing. The relationships I made there are treasured, everything else can pound sand (well, except the BBQ. Gawd I miss the BBQ.) I was aging quickly and poorly. That was scary for me. But then my Strongman swooped in and saved me (I totally just pictured Johnny Weissmuller.) Literally. Saved me.

There’s always a Plan B available, we may just need to start looking for it and who knows, maybe IT will find US.

I admit, I get a bit nostalgic around my birthday. There’s been a bunch, hopefully there’ll be a bunch more. Hopefully I’ll still be in the gym for all of them to come. For now, that’s Plan B. Those of you who get Plan A, I hate you. Nahhhhh, not really. Heh. Life is good, Plan B is pretty damn good.

ON that note, my pal Big Daddy O’Neill posted an old video of Clint Walker this morning which basically said everything I had already typed out. So I’m stealing it, thanks Big Daddy!

He’s awfully hunky.

Sex appeal is 50% what you’ve got and 50% what people think you’ve got.

Sophia Loren

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You Talkin’ to Me?

Posted on March 19, 2014 by tosabarbell

An odd thing happened yesterday as I went to buy dog food. First off, the store we get our food is filled with very nice people who love to talk story when you come in. I don’t. I like to walk down the aisle to the most ginormous bag of Solid Gold dog food, grab it and go. But I’ve learned that it’s going to take me a bit longer here and that’s ok. What went down this time was interesting to me.

As I was at the checkout counter, a man (I presumed that worked there) came up behind me and read the writing on my hoodie out loud and made a comment about it. This is something I kind of heard as background noise and it didn’t immediately register that he was talking TO me until the cashier stopped what she was doing, stared at me for a few moments and finally said, ‘He’s talking to you.’ Uhhhhhh, what? You came up behind me, talked behind me, made some comments but are now talking TO me?

Now, let’s back up a bit. Those who know me know I’m a bit hard of hearing. I blame the Walkman and my loud rock’n’roll music. Seriously, I played that thing as loud as I could to block out the world and though it was effective, it’s messed up my hearing. When I’m in a crowded room trying to have a conversation when there’s 2-3 other conversations going around me, I have to just give up. I can’t hear mine and I hear snippets of others and it drives me crazy. I’ll usually ask people to look at me if they’re talking to I can hear them (people have a tendency to look away while in mid-conversation. That’s fine, but I’ve stopped listening, so ya know.)

So someone coming up from behind me and staying behind but pretending I am part of this conversation is silly to me. And it’s happening more and more. We’ve walked into countless stores where some employee is strolling around and will bellow, “HELLO, LET US KNOW IF YOU NEED HELP WITH ANYTHING” while aisles away or even at some ill placed desk. Again, are you talking TO me? Or are you just yelling my way cuz it really seems like you’re just yelling my way and I’m supposed to assume I’m part of this conversation.

Look, walk into a Wal-Mart and whose at the front door waiting for you? Greeters. Those who look you in the eye, say a good morning or good day (I SAID GOOD DAY!) and I’ll respond in kind. To date, I haven’t had a Wal-Mart greeter Ninja sneak up behind me and hold a conversation while expecting me to reply. Cuz they greet, and move on. As for yesterday, there’s more.

When the cashier told me that behind me dude was talking to me I slightly turned around and said something brilliant like, “Oh.” Moving on, I expected to pay for the pup food when behind me dude (still off to my left and behind me) motioned to some pictures on the wall while talking. Again, I did not assume he was talking to me until cashier stopped (again) and looked at me (again.) I looked her in the eye and asked, “Is he talking to me? Because I don’t know if someone is talking to me unless they’re actually looking at me and making me believe that I am part of this conversation.” She just said, ‘yes’ and pointed to the wall at whatever I was supposed to be looking at. It was some weird picture/painting of a pit bull. Ok, I looked, can I pay for my food now?

What annoyed me a bit was the look I got implying that I was being rude. Me. The one who walked into your store, dropped fitty bucks, and wanted to just smile and leave. Rude was Mr. behind me dude who deems it completely acceptable to talk to people from anywhere he wants and believe that they’ll ASSume they’re part of the conversation.

I blame Obama.

But not really. I blame people who talk to others while looking at their phone and the ‘others’ don’t say PUT DOWN YOUR F*KING PHONE AND TALK TO ME. Ya know, like I do with my kids.

So to review: when speaking to someone, look them in the eye. If you do not have their attention, say something like “Excuse me, I noticed the picture on the back of your sweatshirt. Does it have a pit bull reference.” I can then say, “No, it doesn’t.” Person one can then say, “Oh, sorry. I thought maybe you were a pit mama and I have pits.” I would then finish the conversation with, “Oh, nope, we have Kuvasok. Big white dogs who shed all day and eat cheese. Have a good day.” BOOM! See how that works? A conversation. Not hard, but seemingly a lost art.

“What ho!” I said.
“What ho!” said Motty.
“What ho! What ho!”
“What ho! What ho! What ho!”
After that it seemed rather difficult to go on with the conversation.

P.G. Wodehouse, My Man Jeeves.

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Friday Jams

Posted on March 14, 2014 by tosabarbell

When searching around for fun Irish bands to kick off the St. Patty’s Day weekend (yes, weekend. It officially starts around 12:30 at McBob’s on Saturday with the Tripoli Scottish Highlanders before embarking on a Blue Mound parade/bar crawl route. Yowzer.) The Dropkick Murphy’s are always a solid go to. They used to come to Minneapolis quite a bit, they’re pretty awesome live. Flogging Molly? Sure, they’re fun.

But then I remembered this band called U2. Sooooo, remember them?

I used to be a U2 fan. I wouldn’t say I’m necessarily not anymore but I lost interest about the time that things got SOOOO foking serious with them. But Sunday Bloody Sunday live at the Red Rocks (which I still haven’t been to, poor me) was fun music. The rain, the fog, the cute Irishmen, the Edge. OooooLala. It hit right at the time in my life where a little rebellion was fun but I was paying my own rent so a full on war on society wasn’t ok.

So for the St. Patty’s Day kickoff, U2.

Enjoy the weekend (and yes, Monday will still count as the weekend.)

Being Irish, he had an abiding sense of tragedy, which sustained him through temporary periods of joy.

W.B. Yeats

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THIS JUST IN!!! or not.

Posted on March 12, 2014 by tosabarbell

I loved watching Walter Cronkite as I was growing up. I don’t know, maybe it was just because my dad would make it home from work just in time to sit down together and watch the news before quickly eating dinner and getting back up to the church for the rest of the night. But his voice was calming. Rock solid. When watching footage of him reporting on JFK’s assassination, we can see he keeps control of the newscast the entire time until the official announcement comes in the President Kennedy is dead. His pause of disbelief is poignant and makes me love him more. His school boy excitement when he announced the lift off of Apollo 11 and moon walk shows his love for reporting. It’s awesome. By the way, here it is…

…watch it and remember how amazing it really was.

Anyways.

We don’t have anything like him, haven’t for quite some time. I like Tom Brokaw. Dan Rather was ok, a bit melodramatic but clearly a smart man. Peter Jennings was good. Again, solid. He was probably the best since Cronkite. Brian Williams is a tool. I just can’t get past the smarmy half grin and white tanning goggles marks around his eyes. Dude, make up. Get some. He comes off so clearly full of himself and loves (as to modern day journalists) to make things about him instead of what he is supposed to be reading off the teleprompter. Yuck. In times of Breaking News, I go to Drudge.com. I don’t want to hear it from anyone, I’ll read it. The problem is, there is no longer breaking news. CNN fixed that for us where “breaking news” is happening 24-7. Boring.

But I woke up this morning to Breaking News! “The rumors are true, WSM (World’s Strongest Man) will be early this year. March 22 in Los Angeles…” Yes. We know. The competitors announced weeks ago that they’ve been invited (yes, invited. All the Giant’s live qualifiers that were scheduled to QUALIFY for WSM that folks have been preparing for in hopes of QUALIFYING for the WORLD CHAMPIONSHIP OF STRONGMAN are now stating that qualifications will apply to 2015 WSM. Goodie.) So 9 hours ago, the promoters (by promoters, I mean producers. There is nothing done to promote the WORLD CHAMPIONSHIP of this sport. A complete and utter fail) announced their breaking news that WSM will be in a week and a half. This gives ALL of the fans of Strongman plenty of time to get vacation, get travel plans, and hot step it all the way to LA to cheer on their favorite. What? It doesn’t? You mean not EVERYBODY can drop EVERYTHING and react in a few weeks to go and see their hero’s of sport?

Nope. But who cares. It’s not aboot the fans anyway. It’s about the athletes.

Yeah, I lol’d too when I wrote that.

The athletes who are weeks out from The Arnold and had already committed to others to show up at their contests including the Brits who get to hop on a plane with only enough time to down some anti-inflammatory’s and get to America days after the British Open Championship contest. But hey, at least there’s a better chance of no one being poisoned in LA like in China last year so there’s that. Ok, I take it back, the athletes ARE being taken care of (and if anyone throws a temper tantrum THIS WSM about getting real food, there’s sure to be an In-N-Out down the street. Triple/Triple’s for the room!) Score. Of course this will all make for good summer TV and that’s what’s important.

Whut? It’s not? Cuz no one has paid attention to this whole Polar Vortex thing of ours and doesn’t realize that we’ve been locked indoors for the past 7 months with, what looks like, another month of it to deal with and we may actually want to BE OUTSIDE every single day we can instead of inside watching TV? Oh wait, they only show a few minutes from each heat of each event anyway. We can TIVO it and wait for a rainy couple of hours and the whole thing is done.

My comment to their breaking news?

Juli U’ilani Peterson Groundbreaking announcement. The titanic sank too, feel free to share that when you’re ready. We’ll pretend to be surprised.

Because that’s just what they do. Promote your sport as poorly as possible; treat your athletes like absolute crap; show absolutely no respect to your fans; and show absolutely no respect to others trying to promote and grow your sport. Check, check, yup, and double check. Well done.

That said, we always support our friends and athletes. We are cheering big time for Big Loz; Lil Bjorn; and always my favorite (that I’m not marrying anyway) Big Z. We’ll send strong thoughts and best wishes for EVERYONE to walk away doing their best and staying healthy.

But as for the promoters? I dunno, is ‘suck it’ too strong? Well, that’s ok. We like strong here.

The gods have fled, I know. My sense is the gods have always been essentially absent. I do not believe human beings have played games or sports from the beginning merely to summon or to please or to appease the gods. If anthropologists and historians believe that, it is because they believe whatever they have been able to recover about what humankind told the gods humankind was doing. I believe we have played games, and watched games, to imitate the gods, to become godlike in our worship of eachother and, through those moments of transmutation, to know for an instant what the gods know.

A. Bartlett Giamatti

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