Punk vs. Man

Posted on January 23, 2014 by tosabarbell

As I was reading a Forbes report on the income of justin bieber, I seriously read this line, “the Canadian crooner has toured the world” as this, “the Canadian crooner has tortured the world.” I was all, what the heck?!!! Even FORBES knows he’s junk. It took me two more times to figure it out I was reading it wrong. But those brief moments were pretty fun.

My post on Chivalry brought up some good feedback. One comment by a former NFL player and Pro Highland Games thrower and best of the best in the WOB (I swear I try to look like him when I throw for height but for the 14 inches shorter, a little lighter, and that girlie thing.) Are girls and young women  demanding more of a justin bieber type male (skinny, punk, rude, treats people with absolutely no respect, unable to speak like a partially educated person, self absorbed, law breaking, white trash, low talent, ego larger than his penis will ever be but we can share jeans?)

Here’s my theory: Insecure mommies are afraid of manly men. What does it say when we go out at youth functions and the 13 year old Oz man towers over the majority of the dads? What happened to the set of women behind me that decided they need small, croc wearing husbands (ya, I had to get my hate for those things in there too;) ? The mom’s are so small, their size 0 jeans are baggy on them and the only thing giving them some bulk are their huge, knee length expensive boots. Seriously. We have an entire generation of women who are afraid of size, both for themselves and their husbands. I literally have heard some wives of men I train say something to the effect that they don’t think it’s healthy to get a lot of mass or muscles. FOK!

But here’s where the beeber fever comes in. These mommies also do not want their daughters admiring big, strong 7th graders who are almost ready to shave and are already filling out their gym shorts. OH NO! Not my baby girl! Those boys are too “manly” already to I’m going to steer her to the little boy who someone told him he could sing and he’ll probably never have enough testosterone flowing to actually need to shave so he’s safe for my girl to love. And then they buy his shit, and by shit I don’t mean stuff, I mean the feces that encompasses his energy. But he’s small, and non-threatening. Because if mommy is afraid of manly men, then daughter will be too. So they’ve made him a millionaire and encouraged his crap behavior (which ironically enough, even though I started this post last night, I just heard that he’s been arrested for DUI early this morning and kept throwing the F-bomb at the arresting officer. If ever there was an appropriate time for police brutality, this was it.)

But the 19 year old is what so many moms have encouraged their daughters to look for in a male (can’t say man, this punk is far from ever having the ability of becoming a man.) YourBad. Now what? Now that you’ve perpetuated the myth that this asshole is a completely appropriate first crush, and he’s telling cops to F*k off. Now what?

Does it take a strong woman to admire a strong alpha male? I don’t think so, but maybe a confident one. Do you know women who do not look for Alpha Males but for skinny, weak punks who treat the world as their individual port a pottie? Ask why. Really, do it. And no, I’m not saying that everyone should be the size of Bigg. But manly; alpha male; taking care of business; confident; runs their home; makes decisions; a leader; actually, THE leader. Good to others, has a beard (yes, had to get that one in there too;) Not a maniac who thinks screaming and swearing their way through the aisles of life is the way to go. Just…a man.

But not a beeber. Nope.

Our doubts are traitors and make us lose the good we oft might win by fearing to attempt.

William Shakespeare

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Chivalry Isn’t Dead, But it IS Pissed Off

Posted on January 22, 2014 by tosabarbell

So we got into an interesting little e-chat last night. Our good friend, and Relentless lifter, Eric posted on Chivalry last night. Now I haven’t known Eric long but he does kind of fit the whole ‘Chivalrous’ ideal. He’s a big, strong guy; he’s a cop so is out there taking care of business (he and his partner gave a quick escort to a min-van with a woman in labor the other day. That sounded cool); he’s funny and seems fair and knows not to sweat the small stuff. He’s a gem.

Anyways.

One short fused fellow screamed that the reason Chivalry is dead is due to feminists. Uhhhhh, huh? First off, when is the last time Gloria Steinem was in the news? (Ok, I just Googled it. It was yesterday. In India.) What in the world does feminism even mean these days? Strong women, are THEY feminists? Women who would like equal chance to earn fair pay, are THEY feminists? Women who can do both and STILL like to make dinner and a dark and stormy for their man, are THEY feminists? Am I a feminist? Seriously? Am I? I dunno and that had me perplexed.

Anyways.

I chimed in and said something along the lines of feminism having nothing to do with Chivalry but my opinion was that too many mothers babying their son’s was a big reason that men don’t even KNOW what Chivalry is.  He came back with the idea that those mother’s were feminists so he’s right. Right before I was told to GTFO I said this:

 No. They’re not. That’s ignorant. Women babying their boys don’t want them to be aggressive so turn them into ‘yes men’ who rail against only those they thing they can, i.e. the elderly, the young, or someone they deem lesser than them. Feminism has absolutely nothing to do with it.

BOY! Never tell an angry woman hater that you disagree…especially if you’re a woman. His idea was that women who don’t want their boys to be aggressive ARE feminists. Huh? Goodness. I got called a B, a C, a B’y C, a rude ignorant F’ing C,  all in the name of Chivalry. Well, my Bigg guy didn’t like that very much. But is tactic is a bit different. He explained what Chivalry actually meant and raging on women on the internet wasn’t it bud. See, some of you don’t know this (but you probably do) but my guy is a bit of a nerd at times. So when he talks about something, it’s because he’s probably studied it in some way. So he came back with this:

Guys like you who call women cunts are little boys. True chivalry has died for most men because grown boys confuse being tough and cussing with being a man. Being a man and showing chivalry shows that you have matured past the stage where women are objects. Grow up.

Well said. But angry guy REALLY didn’t like that so continued to rail, only at Matt this time. He got pretty creative then with his insults, cool. We stepped away for a moment and came back to post after post of sewer sludge. After doing a little checking, I noticed angry guy had different pics of Relentless activities. Hmmmm, if this guy is a Relentless lifter, I’ll pass on supporting it this year thank you very much. So I asked Eric and Scott Nutter if he was? Nope, nothing to do with it. Thank goodness. Ohhhhhh, angry guy didn’t like that and came at me with renewed hate. Goodness, what’s your life like that you get completely out of control on The FB on a post that was originally about CHIVALRY??? Is that why you’re an asshole angry guy? Cuz some “feminist” gave you a beat down when you tried to open the door for her? Did she scare you in public? Make you cry?

Or are you just bitter because every female you come in contact with can spot a mile away what an ignorant angry person you are and steers clear? I dunno. He had a pic with a kid on his lap, hopefully he doesn’t have a daughter. She doesn’t stand a chance. Really. I know a dear, dear girl (now young woman) who lived with her woman hating father after her mother left and his woman hating wasn’t kept to just his ex but ALL women…of which this girl was turning into one. It was devastating to see.

Anyways. No, Chivalry isn’t dead, but it IS pissed off. I have to believe that it’s pissed that men like angry guy are speaking on it’s behalf. I have to believe that men who are not able to grow up and have a mature conversation with others, especially women, annoy Chivalry. That the Chivalrous energy in the world takes a beating at such things and has to regroup to make a resurgence. But it always does, in the form of a Bigg guy; or a Relentless organizer; or a man named Swede who lifts up ALL people, not just Westside T-shirt wearing dudes in the gym. It’s out there, but it takes a beating every day. To which do YOU contribute?

The good news is we stopped talking about some stupid football player who suddenly is the epitome of all that is wrong in our country. Please. He’s a football player. He represents nothing other than a football player at the end of a game. Snore.

When a man gives his opinion, he’s a man. When a woman gives her opinion, she’s a bitch

Bette Davis

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Roots

Posted on January 21, 2014 by tosabarbell

I have always been intrigued with the stories about the immigrants.  Both Grandparent’s on my mother’s side came from Sweden, Grandma with her family and Grandpa (who I never got to meet, he died when my mom was 12) on his own as a young teen came in through Canada. My Grandma’s family homesteaded up in Aitkin, Minnesota and since it was on the way to our cabin up in Grand Rapids and we still had our Great Uncle Oscar (a very cool bachelor who lived to be 100), we’d stop on a frequent basis and he would tell us stories about his family and living up north.

Uncle Oscar always had a flannel shirt on, even in the summer, and suspenders to hold up his work pants. He liked to make my parents coffee while he still could and sat in the same chair next to the wood burning stove every time we came. When I was in the 7th grade, I sent him a postcard from Disney World and every time after that we would come and see him, he’d pull out that postcard and show us. Just a gentle reminder that at times, something seemingly small to us could mean the world to someone else.

Uncle Oscar’s house was white with red trim, very Swedish Stuga style with a ginormous wood pile stacked against his garage. I remember through the years that the wood pile would get smaller and smaller and we finally had to get wood delivered so he wouldn’t freeze. His lot on the edge of town was large, by lot standards, and had crab apple trees and a huge garage/work shed. Since my Grandma had died when I was around 4 or 5, Uncle Oscar was our last chance to hear about life from the Landgren side of the world. When he died, all the untold stories we never got to hear, died with him.

There were a few times I tried to ask my Mom about her history, those in Sweden, those here in America but she would say it’s too painful to talk about and she didn’t want to go there. As much as I can respect that and would back off, it was frustrating to me. See, at least she HAD roots. Up until about 10 years ago, I didn’t. I craved them, I’d make up stories (one of which included me being a Hawaiian princess and the first time I went back to Maui there were pictures of me up bemoaning the lost princess and I was a pretty big deal once people realized it was me and then I was princess of Maui. I was also reunited with my young mother who was sent away too and it was all very happy. That was a good one and a good reason why I completely lose it at the end of Tangled.) True story.

Knowing where you came from is a gift. It may not be a happy gift, not all family is happy. But at least you know. You know the grandparent’s, the great-grandparent’s if you’re lucky and maybe even a great-great if the timing is right. I watch Bigg’s family with his Buscia, the last remaining Grandparent alive. As much as I understand the strain of having an aged relative living with you (believe me, I know) I cringe every time one of Matt’s sibs make fun of Buscia repeating stories. So what?? It makes me want to scream. What I would GIVE for one more story from my Grandma or Grandpa Peterson or one more handful of candy corn from my Grandma Carlson up on the Iron Range. Learn everything you can! Write it down to tell your children because you have the gift of knowing where you came from!

There are so many unreasonable thoughts that cross the mind of an adoptee. Why didn’t my real parent’s want me, where do I come from, do they think of me? Having a black wall represent your heritage is a heavy thing. And I was a lucky one. My parent’s have always been open with me about being adopted and told everything they were told about our family and why we were taken away. So at least I had a flicker of a past. I also know at least a few people who’s children do NOT know they are adopted. As much as I love these friends, I categorically disagree with this. Giving false history isn’t fair, at least no history is truth.

I was also one of the lucky ones who had a chance to fill in holes when my biological family was found. Hearing that my mother had died in a car wreck only weeks after turning 21 was as devastating as if I had just watched it happen. No happy reunion, no hugs, no telling her ‘it’s okay Ma, I made it.’ Just a visit to a grave that had long settled. But I had answers, at least most of them and I had stories and a heritage. I’m lucky. Oh, and as you can probably guess, I’m not a princess either. FML.

But if you have roots, please be thankful. They may be painful and if so, you’re not alone. But they may be happy too, appreciate them. You’ve always had them and have no idea what it is to not, but if it helps, think of every family memory and pull a black curtain over them and make them non-existent even for a brief moment. Not fun. Appreciate. About five years ago we were up north and drove by Uncle Oscar’s home to see if it still stood. It did! It was a brighter white with newer red trim and the garage/work shed was standing taller and brighter. It STILL had stacks of wood next to it; a boat out in the driveway; beautiful flowers in the front (it’s right off the county highway so those flowers take a beating in the winter), and children running around outside. It made me SO happy to see that they had kept the structure and there was LIFE running around it. Uncle Oscar would like that. Oh, he wouldn’t say so, but he’d nod his head and make a “hmmm hmmmm” noise. That was his way of saying ‘good job.’ Heh.

We take too much of our heritage for granted. Harriman State Park is not Mt. Vernon. Nor is it Yosemite. But heritage cannot be measured on a scale…

Mary E. Reed

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Monday Bacon: Fame

Posted on January 20, 2014 by tosabarbell

One of my favorite movies of teen years was Fame. I mean really, a whole school of cool dancing and playing music at lunchtime? Dancing on cars and running around New York City completely unsupervised and unchecked? It’s the only time in my life I ever wanted to live in New York City. One visit in my early 20’s took care of that silliness. Yuck, not for me.

But those kids, the best of the best. It was very cool. It was also very dark and touched on basically every taboo topic around. In fact, think of any movie today who would have the courage to address multi-racial relationships (hook-ups); teen suicide; homosexuality; competition; abortion; abuse; and there have to be a couple of other uplifting topics I’m forgetting that were in there. Nope, Fame is not always pretty.

As seen on the FB yesterday.

So, okay, one famous dude calls out another famous dude on the Facebook. First dude says most famous face in America dude was rude to people who came up to ask for an autograph and picture while sitting at the ATL airport. OH! First three fans were actually airport employees. Most famous face dude didn’t want his picture taken and was sitting in a corner with he and wife’s luggage while she went to the TT room. SO, what does first famous dude do? Well, take his picture of course and then post it on the FB. Cuz that’ll show ’em. OH! First famous dude is a retired special forces Major and now writes both fiction and non-fiction books. He is highly respected and I have no reason to believe that is not deserved. However dick this one situation is. Respect is given to many assholes, fo shizzle.

All we have in this exchange is first dude’s story and the picture. So let’s take that piece by piece.

The most famous face dude was Samuel L. Jackson and I didn’t recognize his face. The picture was taken at an empty gate and SLJ was in the corner with a hat on, a scarf (maybe two but it’s hard to tell), a coat, and his head is down (assuming into something electronic.) Dalton Fury (name has been changed to protect the innocent. Not really, that’s his writers name) was the picture taker. He is sitting about two EMPTY rows away facing SLJ. First observation of this tale, I didn’t recognize the assumed most recognizable face in America. I keep my eyes on things at the airport, everyone should, but I don’t hone in on someone because he may or may not be famous. I hone in on someone who may be fidgety and sweaty and keeps checking their back pack. Uhhh, security!

My second observation is that YOU’RE AT AN EMPTY GATE! Duh. Samuel L. didn’t plop himself into a full gate possibly KNOWING he would be badgered a bit so he stopped off at an empty one. So, as a former Delta force leader, I’m going to assume you’ve had maybe at least one class on how to read body language and situations. Cuz I’m just a silly 46 year old mom and strength coach and I can read that this is a dude that doesn’t want to be bothered. And no, just because he’s an “actor” he does not have an obligation to bow to “his” public every time he walks out in it. He can choose to give an autograph or choose not to. Choices are his. But that’s only my opinion and I’m trying to stick to the facts. Fact is, he attempted to be discreet and private. The picture shows that.

Number 3: airport employees should never address a famous person for autographs. You are supposed to be a professional, act like one. Working in any capacity in one of the busiest airports in the world (I just made that up, I have no idea how busy ATL is) means that seeing famous folks of all make up will probably happen at some point in your career. Sure, you’d love to act like a silly schoolgirl when you’re at work but you can’t. Cuz you’re at work. So behave and know that the fact that you’ve sighted someone famous makes a fine enough story for your drinking buddies later that bothering said person to make YOU feel good is an unnecessary intrusion.

My fourth, and most important observation, is this: you Mr. Fury for some reason took that opportunity to use YOUR fame and YOUR facebook to call out another person trying to discreetly avoid his. That’s dick. But again, okay. You get to, it’s your FB and you have enough nutswinging followers to back you up. But I’m not one of them and may have commented as such. I try so hard to just shut up. SO HARD! Suddenly I’m accused of living in a dream world (unicorns were mentioned); some type of shame on me for disrespecting such a decorated hero blah blah blah. But like I said before, I own my words. And I own these. I don’t care that you are a military hero, cuz in this case, you were a dick. You probably don’t care that you’re a dick, THAT is something I respect.

This has nothing to do with respecting the military. This has nothing to do with not supporting our troops (hilarious.) This has nothing to do with race (it never takes long for that to come up…see hilarious post game Seahawks sideline postgame interview accusations.) It has to do with a darker side of fame and when the famous throw the other famous under the bus and use social media to do it. That’s all. I do feel bad for the one very nice and well spoken lady who tried to defend SLJ’s actions in various ways and the attacks she took because of it. Personal attacks. Like Fury needs defending to that degree? Hopefully he’s bigger than that, but who knows. This will be my last view on the dude, lots more impressive people on the planet to read of and about than him.

Not everybody can be famous but everybody can be great, because greatness is determined by service.

Martin Luther King Jr.

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