Thursday, July 31, 2008

Rocky Day

An off-lift day. Did 5x 3minute rounds with the heavy bag. In between rounds, medicine ball incline situps. Each set I did 4x S L O W crunches, then another 4x slow twists for obliques, then fast situps/throw and catch with the 14# ball. 5 sets total.

Good explosive stuff for lean muscle, I hope. If you think about it, Rocky's training and diet was all about Evolutionary Fitness: right down to the glass of raw eggs!

I didn't know Meatheads were in season already

Last Friday I saw Hellboy2 with a friend. The street was unusually noisy on the walk home. At least 3 of the lovely Adirondack style porches on my block had been usurped by beer pong tables. I noticed, to my horror, that one of the parties was at the house next door.

It was late, so the kids were in bed. Emjay had left a cheerful note for me on the computer. I went upstairs to find her.

She was on the balcony porch attached to our bedroom, smoking a cigarette.

"Where did you get that?" I asked.

"I had one left over from the Christmas party."

"It's still summer. I didn't know meatheads were in season already."

"If they wake up the kids," she said, pausing to take a drag, "I will kill them."

I went to get some cigarillos for me, a glass, and the bottle of Maker's Mark. I came back just in time, as Emjay's glass was empty.

I poured the bourbon and lit my cigar. We were on a second floor porch in the back of the house, and they at ground level in the front, so we had some good distance from the noise. Still, it was loud.

I looked up from my drink to see a meathead in the driveway next door. I guess he thought he was in a secluded spot. He unzipped and started pissing in the middle of the driveway.

"Dude, you are a fucking pig!" I shouted down. He looked up, surprised, and ran back to the front porch.

We smoked and drank for a while, cigars and bourbon looking down on Keystone Light.

Another meathead went behind the house to piss. Dick in one hand, cell phone in the other.

"Excuse me! I can see you!" Emjay shouted, "You're going to have to clean all this up in the morning, you know!"

"Chill," he said.

"Did you just tell my wife to chill? Do NOT make me come down there and go all Benjamin Linus on your ass!"

That confused him. He retreated to the front porch, muttering on the phone.

"You can't sound like the crazy old lady next door," I told Emjay, "You need more edge. Belittle them. Question their manhood."

"I can do that," she said.

A shirtless meathead staggered into the driveway, turned and puked into a gabage can. Emjay stood and leaned over the porch rail.

"Learn to hold your liquor, you pussy!"

The meathead looked up. There was Emjay in all her beautiful fury, cigarillo in one hand and bourbon in the other. Shame, eternal shame. Totally owned.

When we'd had enough, I got the mag lite out and put new batteries in it. I got the tactical baton out of the drawer and put it in my pocket, in case I did have to go all Benjamin Linus on someone. Then I thought better of it, and handed the weapon to Emjay.

"Who do you think I am, Locke?" she said.

"I'll be right back."

I went down to my front porch and walked to the edge. I turned the light on them, holding it up above my shoulder the way cops do.

"We're not going to have a problem, are we?"

"Huh? Whaddid he say?" a girl asked.

"Let's go inside," one of the meatheads said.

"What did he say to you?" the girl asked- the tone that means, 'are you going to take that?'

Apparently, he was going to take that from me and my big scary flashlight. They went inside, and as far as I know they were quiet the rest of the night.

This post is Mostly True.

Wednesday, July 30, 2008

Workout- sans Jeff :^(

Could not meet up with my famous workout buddy Jeff as panned- but managed a brief solo excursion in the afternoon:

Bench Press:
135# 2x5
165# x2 + negative
145# x5

Did following exercises in alternating sets:

205# 2x5
215# 2x5

Pullups and Dips:
My weight+15# 4x5 each

Close grip pulldown:
145# 4x5

For reference, I'm 148#... Nearly as lean as Jeff, but can't say no to home fries.

So Went the Neighborhood

I live in a great old house, in a neighborhood successful people used to aspire to live in. It's in an uptown district of my city, built in 1912 for a Dr. Eames. I know all about this, because I found the blueprints to the house in a cubby and I stumbled upon the mortal remains of Dr. Fred Eames while on an afternoon picnic in the cemetary. That's another story.

My house is the kind with inlaid wood and stained glass, the kind people built before they moved to "homes" in "communities" and rode in "vehicles".

My family is one of the last on the block. Most of the other houses have been chopped into 4 or 5 unit apartments capable of holding dozens of shirtless meatheads and their skanky girl-gone-wild wannabes. They play beer pong and shout "whooooo!" And urinate on the gorgeous stucco.

They have made me, at 38, the old guy from all the movies: the "hey you kids get off my lawn" guy and the "clean that up you punk" guy and sometimes even the "run, bitch, before I put a bullet in you" guy.

For this, I despise them.

This post is Completely True.

Tuesday, July 29, 2008

These are the Things

My grandfather had a unique way of speaking. He was a Seabee in the war and then a woodworker, for pay until he retired and for pleasure after that. He never made one of anything. Instead he'd make a jig or a pattern and bang out piece after piece after piece. When he died, he made me promise to finish about a dozen little wooden rocking chairs for teddy bears for which he'd already made all the parts. He refused to go until I said I'd finish them.

He crafted his words the same way. Unique phrases of his own design, usable over and over again. Efficient, lean, like a scribe mark on the router table. Here's a sample;

"It don't make."
Translation: "It doesn't make a bit of difference."
Context: On looking at a manual on massage featuring nude couples, "It don't make that they're bare."

"That weighs quite a little."
Translation: "It looks like it should be light, because it's small. But it's actually kind of heavy."

"These are things."
Translation: "Well, Richard, there are a lot of things in life that you have to consider very carefully."
Context: Used to close every declarative statement.
Etymological note: In his 70's it was, "These are the things." In his 80's, "These are things." I expect that if he had lived to 90 it would have become, "Things."

"Yer gettin' silly. Go to bed."
Apologia: OK, this is completely self-explanatory and not incredibly unique. But I heard it quite a little as a kid, when we'd stay overnight at his house. Usually uttered after my brother and I became completely insane watching Benny Hill with the old man.

I'm getting silly. End of post.

This story is Completely True.