Wednesday, December 28, 2011

Maryann



I was already to post a blog about 2011 and what a difficult and painful year it was for my family and me. I was looking at the past year and weighing the bad against the good when 2011 decided it wasn’t through with us yet.

On Friday, my Aunt Maryann collapsed at work and was rushed to the hospital. This morning the family was told that she has no brain function. Her siblings, including my Mom, are on the way to the hospital to hold her hand while they remove her from life support.

Maryann was, briefly, one of the permanent residents of Sheridan Street. She and her son, Danny lived with us while she was going through some difficult times. Maryann was the one who brought Andrea into our lives. I remember before she got married she was, to me, to most beautiful woman in the world. I remember her wedding and being so mad that Tracey and I were too young to attend while Debbie and Patty got to be in the wedding. I remember crying when she moved to Montana.

I remember her absolute emotional breakdown when Elvis died. I remember seeing her again, when we buried her brother, Walter and her shock at learning that I had kids. (I was a charter member of the “I’m Never Having Kids Club!”).

Mostly what I remember is too much time passing without seeing her. That changed recently. She had started to inch her way back into the family and everyone welcomed her with open arms.

It’s not much but it’s all we get this go round.

Don’t let petty bullshit get in the way of what’s important.

Family first.

Family forever.

Oh, and fuck you 2011. I hate you so much that if you were a person I would stab you in the face until you died.


Monday, December 19, 2011

Merry Freaking Christmas





Christmas is a time when people of all religions come together to worship Jesus Christ. ~ Bart Simpson

Ok. I have taken a deep breath; I have counted to ten; I have counted backwards from 10; I have bit my lip; I have walked away. None of it is helping. I was just going to walk away from it this year and not engage but I tried. I failed. So here goes nothing…

Did a memo go out warning people that they would be stoned if they uttered the words “Merry Christmas” this year? I only ask because I’ve seen more pictures and status updates and news items on how people are making a stand and saying “Merry Christmas”. The hostility in some of them is barely repressed let me tell you. Did the memo go out that clearly said that everyone has to say “Happy Holidays” instead of Merry Christmas? Who sent that memo? Because, I didn’t get it and, well, I’m kinda pissed since now I don’t know what to say or how to act this holiday season.

Can someone, anyone, please tell me who told them they can’t say “Merry Christmas”. Please, it’s really making me bug-fuck crazy. And please, please, do not tell me it’s because of the jacked-up nonsense that Bill O’Reilly and Fox News are spouting about a “War on Christmas”. Really, please don’t. It’s not true. 

Christmas is not under attack. 

Christianity is not under attack.

Are Christians not free to practice their religion? Are Christians not free to go to the house of worship of their choosing and worship their god in their way? Of course not because that would be un-American! Here in America, you can practice any religion you like or none at all. You can try a different one every week if you choose. There is nothing stopping you from pursing your religion your way. In private. As a private citizen. We have no state sponsored religion in America. Remember?

We are not a Christian nation! Sorry kids it’s true. I don’t care about the recent surge to modify history to prove otherwise. We are not, nor have we ever been, a Christian nation! I've said it before and it bears repeating: This nation was not founded for Jesus or the spreading of his gospel. It was founded on the premise that men are able to self-govern. 

Can someone, in a reasonable manner, with appropriate documentation show me where Christianity is being attacked. I’m pretty plugged in and I don’t see it at all. Is it because we can’t have a crèche in the town square? Or pray in schools? Or the ten commandments in the courthouse? Are Christians being fed to the lions again? Honestly. What’s the issue?

I have an idea if you don’t like the “holiday” trees or the “holiday” decorations that cities and towns expend time and energy on, let’s stop doing them. All of them. Christmas, as we are so often reminded, is a religious day and as such has no business being promoted or endorsed in any government building. No religious holiday does.

We have real problems that face us. Let's not get distracted by the bogus ones. 

Enjoy your families and your traditions. If you want Christ in Christmas that's your right. For me and mine, we're content with the Fat Man.

Wednesday, December 14, 2011

I'm Just a Girl




I can bleed for five straight days and not die; I can also make people. What are your superpowers? 

I love being a girl. Honestly, it’s been a pretty awesome gig. Free drinks, dinners, and shows; wearing kick-ass shoes and short skirts. Well, not anymore but I still remember when! One of the unexpected joys of having a daughter is it allows me to examine my experiences as a girl as I help her understand how she will make her mark on the world. 

Recently, I was thinking about how women have impacted society and how much it has changed in my lifetime. For centuries, we have gotten the short end of the stick. We are covered and clothed and, in some parts of the world, mutilated. Even now, any overt expression of sexuality is sneered at and labeled. We are still marginalized. We are still victimized. We still don’t have equal pay for equal work. We still bear the biggest burden of domestic chores even in two income families. Certainly, it’s gotten better but there is a lot of disparity and hostility. 

There is no doubt that girls have way more opportunities for advancement in both academics and sports than they did in the past and we (as a group) have made tremendous impact in just about every field we’ve entered. When I was growing up, I believed that women who do exceptional things were rare. I also believed that in order for a woman to be noteworthy, she had to have risen above her inherent girlness to embrace greatness; that exceptional women were somehow different from other woman. Honestly, I’m a little ashamed to admit it. 

I remember the women that stood out to me as a child: Eleanor Roosevelt, Clara Barton, Rosa Parks, Betsy Ross. That was it. Four. That was the sum total of the exceptional women that I remember from childhood. Apart from being examples of exceptional women the only other thing they had in common, they were all dead. 

I recognize now that obstacles and other more complex reasons prevented more women from realizing their potential. What shocked me was that I still harbored the thought that women had to overcome their girlness in order to be exceptional. I’m still kind of annoyed at myself for letting that fester in my brain for all these years. I believe that our girlness is our greatest strength and I hate that it seems to be settled that women need to be more like men in order to run with the big dogs. I think the whole world would be better off if we embraced the feminine. It’s an incredible viewpoint and an important one; one that we need to stop squashing to fit in a patriarchal world. 

Dudes, don’t go all getting your back up, this is not a male-bashing blog. This is about ownership of self and me, finally, at long last figuring some stuff out. So, squash it. This ain’t the place for your pity party so move it along, k. Thanks. 

This is about me realizing that the beauty of being a girl is that we are exceptional because we are girls. 

We raise the bar.

We raise the standard. 

We raise the future. 

This is a work in progress and it is not the sum total of my thoughts on feminism or being a girl. This is about me starting a conversation with myself and hopefully, getting an assist from some of my friends – male and female. I expect that my thoughts will continue to expand and shift as I continue being a girl.



Wednesday, November 30, 2011

Tidings of Comfort and Joy




Christmas is a time when you get homesick - even when you're home.  ~ Carol Nelson

This is my favorite time of year. I love Christmas. The spectacle, the decorations, the music. All of it. The only thing that could make it any better is if it were warm. Oh, and if Dad were still here.

I was sitting with Dylan last night waiting for our dinner to be ready when I started wondering what I could write about this week. I had already had Christmas on my mind when I started telling him some stories about his grandfather. I told him about the time that Dad thought it would be a great homage to his five daughters to immortalize their initials as Christmas decorations. This is one of the favorites of all the sisters.

I can’t remember how old I was when this story took place but I do remember it happening. The tree was already up and the entire second floor looked as if a bomb of tinsel, glitter and lights exploded. Dad, as usual, was in the thick of it. Cursing and laughing and yelling and making the spectacle even grander. I don’t remember how the idea came to him but I do remember having to get wire hangers. Lots and lots of wire hangers.

He sat there in his chair, bending and twisting, cajoling and finessing, forcing the wire to his will. Some initials were easier than others. The L for example was pretty straight forward; the B not so much. I don’t know how long it took him or how many innocent hangers lost their lives that night but the carnage was immense. After creating all five initials (D, P, T, B, L) it was time to decorate them. With garland. Miles and miles of pretty garland.

Where, you may be wondering, was Dad going to put his masterpiece(s)? Not just anywhere. No. They were going to have prominence. They needed a place befitting of their magnificence. Naturally, they were hung over the sofa in the living room. Yes he did. Not only did he hang them, he hung them fancy. In a V pattern. Starting on the left with Deb, the Patty slightly below and to the right, Tracey made the low point in the V pattern, Barbara (that’s me) directly across from Patty with Laura mirroring Deb at the upper right.

It was as horrifying as it sounds. The letters were easily a foot and a half tall and he didn’t even use the same color garland for each letter. Nope. Each letter had it’s own color. In the intervening years, I decided he chose each color to reflect the uniqueness of each daughter but it's more likely that Dad’s mantra of “more is more” won out. He was also color-blind so I can only imagine what it looked like to him. I’m sure it was amazing. To everyone else it was kind of a hot mess but in a good way.

We’re busy making our own Christmas memories and traditions. One of my favorite (and Dylan’s too) is when we all pile together in the living room to watch “It’s A Wonderful Life”. We have homemade snicker doodles and fancy hot chocolate. But we can’t do that until we decorate. Hmmm, guess I know what I’m doing this weekend. Although I can almost guarantee that no wire hangers will be harmed in my Christmas decorating this year but ya never know.

Enjoy your moments where you find them; you never know when the memories you’re making are the awesome ones. I really miss Dad and his crazy ideas. I miss his big mouth, his bigger laugh and his absolute delight in his family.

Merry Christmas Dad wherever you are. Your spirit lives on in each of our hearts especially at Christmas.



Wednesday, November 16, 2011

Ramblings of a Mad Woman





I love being a writer.  What I can't stand is the paperwork.  ~Peter De Vries

A friend asked me recently how the writing was going and if I was starting to run out of ideas. I laughed and then I thought for a second and said, “No, I’m not running out of ideas but what is getting hard is keeping track of what I’ve already said and which anecdotes I’ve shared and all my insightful witticisms.”

I have tons of ideas and I can crank out the first 200-250 words pretty quickly. It’s the finishing. The polishing. The trying to make sure I don’t say the same thing over and over and over.  You know, belaboring the point.

Writing never came naturally to me, talking that’s another matter. I swear I was born running my mouth. And loud. Hahaha. Extra loud. I’m from a large, extended family if you wanted to get heard you had to get loud. I have a paper trail now and that’s a little daunting. People can actually go back and check on what I said. I imagine my words floating out on the interwebs being read, eagerly, by adoring (and not so adoring) fans who will then turn on me and fling my words back in my face.  What, I have performance anxiety.

Just hit the 200 word mark and I’m starting to flounder. I have my ending; I have my beginning; I need to tie them together. But how? Another story about the kids? Something that Pat did that drove me crazy? A sarcastic take on a current event? What? I’m starting to think I should pop on over to Facebook and see what’s up. Maybe one of my awesome friends will inspire me. Wait, the dog needs a walk. Maybe I should call my Mom to see how she’s doing. That’s when I know I’m desperate!

Hahaha. Anyone still reading?

This fascinating glimpse into my writing process is not how I thought this would go. I was going for witty and breezy and I fear that I’m starting to sound whiney and desperate.

The family is over the novelty of me writing. Totally over it and over me. What they’re tired of is listening to me read every article out loud to them 872 times then making them sit and read them. Plus, they’re tired of me hogging the computer. I still ask for permission before I write anything about the kids and they appreciate that. I appreciate that they haven’t ever said no. Yet.

I can’t imagine my world without writing. Maybe one of these days I’ll tackle something longer. Perhaps the book that Aunt Carol is telling me I need to write. For now, I’m content to write for Patch and keep up my blog. It’s way more fun than my day job that’s for sure!

Not sure what this rambling mess has to do with parenting or anything really. Perhaps I can talk to them about persevering.  About being open to try new things. About having the courage to commit to something new.

Or maybe I'll just demand they do something clever and cute so I can write about that.

Tuesday, November 1, 2011

Día de los Muertos




Mexican tradition holds that people die three deaths: The first death is when our bodies cease to function, when our hearts no longer beat of their own accord, when our gaze no longer has depth or weight, when the space we occupy slowly loses its meaning. The second death comes when the body is lowered into the ground, returned to mother earth, out of sight. The third death, the most definitive death, is when there is no one left alive to remember us.
November is, for me, forever affiliated with death. I was fifteen when Nana died. It was November 1, 1980 and until then I had known death only superficially. Most of my grandparents had already died. I don't remember them, not really. I have vague impressions, but mostly other people’s memories masquerading as my own. 

But Nana, Nana was different; she was in my life every day. We never lived more than two blocks away and it was a rare day when I didn’t see her. It became more than once a day when she finally left Mozart Street and moved across the street from Casa the Crazy.

Nana was a hard, unyielding woman. She was raised in foster care after the death of her parents and sister and life was not always very kind. I have memories of her both good and not so good. Most of my favorite Nana memories center on summers at Newfound Lake in New Hampshire. Up-country.

She kept a cabin, well cabin is a generous term since what it was really just a raised platform with four walls, a tarp ceiling, and three “rooms” delineated with fishing line and shower curtains. Quainter and cozier than I’m describing. It had a propane stove, a couple of bunk beds and a kitchen table. I learned how to play cards at that table, by candlelight. I also learned that I hated peas and had a bit of a stubborn streak.

We, the sisters and the cousins, spent most our time at Newfound Lake swimming, playing in the sand pit, exploring the woods, hauling water from the well, and just being kids. I remember camp fires and marshmallow roasts; Uncle Wally telling ghost stories and scaring us half to death; daylight trips to the outhouse; never – ever – after dark; diving off the big rock for Uncle Bobby’s change.

November makes me miss them all. It’s not grief that November provides but introspection. Autumn seems suited to melancholy. When the dead demand their due. We’ve lost so many, family and friends. Aunt Chris, Dad’s sister and a major player in the Joan of Arc saga (click here). Chris died a few short months after Nana. In the middle of her life. She was only forty when she died, younger than I am now and a mother of six.

Uncle Bobby. He broke my heart. We watched him die. Slowly. He never gave up and he never let you know how sick he really was. He was my godfather and one of the giants of my youth. I miss him still. His joy. His smile. His laugh.

Then Walter, Uncle Wally to just about everyone in the world. He was the best, quick-witted and funny as hell. He also gave me my love for funk music. Funny, I never think of him with sadness, thinking of Wally brings a smile every single time.

We’ve lost Dad and Al and Claire and Bernie. We lost Diane and Hazel. We lost Grandma Doris and Uncle Jim. Aunt Mary and so many others. We've lost fathers, brothers, mothers, sisters, husbands, wives, children and friends.

Each death diminishes our daily lives but expands our capacity for living. For where we find heartache and sorrow we also find perseverance and strength. By losing someone we love, we internalize their best features and realize that we get to hold that forever in our hearts. We visit at our leisure. Sure sometimes they demand our attention but generally they are content to wait. Wait for us to pause in our living. Wait for us to realize that they still have lessons to teach us. And because they live in our hearts, we help keep them from the third and final death.

It’s important to remember the dead but more important that we embrace the living.

One is the past, the other the future.

Wednesday, October 19, 2011

Words Matter




 
Words have a magical power. They can bring either the greatest happiness or deepest despair; they can transfer knowledge from teacher to student; words enable the orator to sway his audience and dictate its decisions. Words are capable of arousing the strongest emotions and prompting all men's actions. ~ SIGMUND FREUD
Just about everyone argues, that’s pretty much a fact. You argue with the spouse, the kids, the parent, the sister, the brother, the… well, you get the picture. It's probably safe to say that everyone has had at least one argument in their lives. 

Pat and I argue all the time. Our first argument was the night we met. That was 20 years ago. Guess what? We’re still arguing. In fact, we’re arguing right now! Hahaha!

I love to argue. Surprising absolutely no one, I’m sure. When I argue I like to win. In order to win, I need facts. Facts, contrary to the belief of some, are your friends. They are necessary to open and healthy discourse. Like sunshine, they keep you healthy and honest.

Let’s set aside, for argument’s sake, the act of arguing and talk about talking. About interacting. About being responsible for what flows from your lips or your finger tips. Facts are not for special occasions. They are not your wedding china. They should be used all the time. For with use, they get stronger. They get healthier. They get factier.

So, what’s my point?

There are several.

The first, are you responsible for what you put out in the world?

My answer: Yes. Yes you are.

Second, do you have a responsibility to make sure that what you put out, makes sense to other earthlings?

My answer: Yes. Yes you do.

There is this picture making the rounds on facebook that is driving me absolutely, talk-to-myself-crazy. What, I hear you asking, can be making me crazy? This:

I'm only responsible for what I say not for what you understand

I read it the first time, it seemed harmless. I see 100 pictures a day on my facebook wall. It showed up again. Then again. The more I was confronted with it, the more it started to annoy me.

Really, you have no responsibility for how your words are perceived? Really?  So I can call someone a stupid, lazy, fat-ass, douchenozzle and it's not my fault if they get mad. I should just tell them that I have no responsibility for their hurt feelings since I'm not responsible for their reaction? Really?

How about taking a moment and remembering that words have actual meaning? Meanings that are established by society. They have a certain weight to them. They can stir passion and incite violence. When you put them out in the world, you own them. All of them. That includes how they are received.

Call someone a hero, and that lifts them up. Call someone an asshole, and that tears them down. You. Own. Both. Results. Know what I see when I read that slogan? I see the Palinization of personal responsibility. Say whatever comes to mind and get defensive and petty when someone calls you on your bullshit. Quite frankly, It’s astounding to me. Breath-taking in it’s duplicity and complete abdication of any sense of decency.

The thoughts and opinions in this blog originated in me. I own the words. I own the thoughts. I own your reaction. Good or bad. Happy or sad. Enraged or indifferent.

That’s the power of words.

Use them wisely.

They matter. 

Even if it is “only” facebook.

Friday, October 14, 2011

Are you one of the 53%?




Are you a 53%er? You know, one of the poor bastards that actually pays FEDERAL income tax. I am! No freeloaders here. Oh, wait! That is not a true statement since Pat was on unemployment for a while. Bad, bad, Pat! Sucking off the government's tit like that! You should be ashamed. What's that you say? You PAID into the unemployment fund. What kind of commie-socialist-fascist nonsense are you spouting? Don't let Rush here you say that; he might bore you to death with all his talking.

Anyway, back to my point...

The 53% campaign is based on the notion that 53% of Americans pay more in federal income taxes than they receive back in deductions or credits, and so 53% of people are subsidizing everyone else. Like much of everything that Mr. Erickson does, this is also misguided and meant to widen the divide in public discourse which, of course, helps drive traffic to his website and get him on the TV machine. Just who are the sons-of-bitches that are shirking their FEDERAL responsibilities?

Well, 22% of them are lower-income seniors on Social Security. Those old bastards. Who do they think they are! That leaves us with 25% of able-bodied, competent folks who still refuse to pay their fair share! Who are these people? Why do we tolerate this nonsense?

Taken together, the earned income tax credit, the child credit, and the childcare credit account for about 15% of the people who pay no federal income tax. I've taken advantage of these credits in the past (I must be a horrible, horrible person).

That leaves about 10% of people who manage to use other deductions and/or loopholes to get under the tax line. Some of them make a decent amount of money.

Perhaps we should stop looking to the bottom and blaming the poor for being poor.

We are systematically destroying the public education system, turning it into nothing more than a testing ground for private companies to get rich off telling us that our kids suck and that they're stupid; that lazy teachers and greedy administrators are the problem; that we need more ridiculous unfunded mandates that benefit no one but the test companies.

We have almost finished reducing the middle-class to nothing more than a footnote. I, for one, am tired of being told that the government is the problem. No it's not. Bad government is the problem. When you continue to elect people that HATE government, you get bad government. What a fucking shock!

Wake up. I'm not suggesting that everyone needs to think like me (I still don't understand why you don't) but let's at least strive to elect people that believe that government has a role and function in this country. People that want to work to make this country better and not by dismantling it. When has that ever worked?

Next time someone tells you that about 47% of people don't pay any taxes, look them in the eye (or the keyboard) and tell them they're full of shit. You can also tell them they're part of the problem.


Wednesday, October 5, 2011

Heaven Help Me




I'm no angel, but I've spread my wings a bit.  ~ Mae West


Heaven gets a lot of press. As well it should and most of the time, heaven is portrayed as a place of good. Harps and clouds and happy thoughts. But maybe there's just a little bit more to heaven. Something sinister.  That’s right, I said it. Sin.is.ter.

You’ve heard it. Hell (ha), you may have even said it. I know I’ve said it at least once. But I never really stopped to think about the implications of it. Sure, it’s innocent enough, meant to comfort. You know what I mean, about how your loved ones are looking down on you. Making sure, you’re “safe”, watching over you. Whatever that means.

Am I the only person in the world that gets the wiggins from that? Can you imagine toiling on this Earth. Being good. Living a moral life only to get to heaven and have to spend all your time looking back here! Checking up on everyone to make sure they stay out of trouble. I don't know about you, but man I will be one pissed off lady if that’s what my eternity is reduced to.

Can you imagine an eternity of watching the unfolding of boring lives when the entire universe lies at your feet? The people you can meet. Ghandi, Jesus, the grandfather that squandered the family fortune! I know a few people that have been waiting to meet that son-of-a-biscuit-eater. Besides, it's not as if you can affect anything directly. Right? Cause if you can, and my dead relatives haven't, I am going to open up a giant can of whoop-ass when I get up there, especially on Dad! Hear that Jimbo? You are going to be one sorry dude when I get there.

How do I know that I’ll be meeting all these awesome people in heaven? How do I know there not in that other place? Well, I have my thoughts on who belongs there and, well, since this is my blog I’m going to share them with you. Hell, in my estimation, is reserved for the truly evil and heinous. Nicolae Ceaușescu, Ted Bundy, Saddam Hussein, Osama Bin Laden. War criminals. You know like Dick Cheney-level evil.

All kidding aside, I do want there to be an afterlife. Honestly, I want there to be more than one. I’d hate to think that this is all we get. This short time. This taste of the extraordinary. This struggle and turmoil. This uncertainty. I know one thing. Heaven better be spectacular. Wild horses, dancing til dawn spectacular. Full-on rave spectacular. Fall in love with your soul mate spectacular.

Hey, Saint Pete! Are you paying attention? I’ll be up there sooner or later and I expect a room with a view. One that faces away from Earth. K. Thanks!

Sunday, October 2, 2011

Sunday, September 25, 2011

Copy and Paste





OK, folks I have a bee in my bonnet this morning and I’m not going to be able to move along until I get this little rant out of my system.

Facebook is awesome. The internet is awesome. It is also forever. By that I mean, once it’s out there, even for a second, there’s a digital record of it somewhere. Screen grabs, caches, ether. Like the stone thrown or the word spoken, it’s irretrievable.

Do me a favor.

Hell, do yourself and your friends a favor. 

Before you copy and paste anything, Google it. Seriously, it takes like 2 seconds. Try to verify it. A little fact-checking never hurt anyone.

The little kid with cancer – fake.

Facebook starting to charge a fee – fake.

Pepsi and the pledge – fake.

There are the posts that read like a fundamentalist wish list; or the one where we make prison conditions worse because private nursing home facilities care more about profit than they do patients. Oh, let’s not forget the one where we should be following the lead of Afghanistan and North Korea to inform our decisions (that one already inspired a rant).

Read, really read, like with critical reading skills and ask yourself a couple of questions. The first being, “Does this even make sense?” Follow-up with, “Do I agree with this statement in it’s entirety?” Maybe you can even ask yourself, “Do I want this to be associated with my name?”

I’ve recommended items that I don’t necessarily agree with but I agree that they need to be seen and debated. I’m not talking about differing opinions or opposing politics. I’m talking about things that are factually incorrect or contain false equivalences or outright lies.

Everything – and I mean everything – you post becomes part of your digital DNA. Once you post it, you have effectively co-signed it. Not a part of it, not the spirit of it.

It.

All of it.

In it’s entirety.



Monday, September 19, 2011

Wretched Refuse

"...Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!" cries she
With silent lips. "Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!" ~ Emma Lazarus

I'm appalled at what passes for immigration discussion in this country. Illegal Immigration is a chronic and systemic problem that cannot and will not be solved simply by building a goddamn fence across the border and deporting people we pick up in random traffic stops.

I'm about to share with you a report produced by Oxfam America that, in my opinion, should make each and everyone of us sick. Sick to our collective soul.

It's not a short document but one that should be required reading.  Click here to go to Oxfam America's website. Click on the "A State of Fear" link to read the report.

Thursday, August 25, 2011

What Your Personal Trainer Really Thinks

Guest blogger Kat Barrett NSCA-CPT tells us how it really is... 

When people find out what I do, the first thing they always ask me is, "What's the best way to lose weight/gain muscle/make my arms bigger/run faster/lose my belly/perk up my arms, boobs, butt?" This question is shortly followed by, "This is what I'm doing now. Do you think it will work?" What they're really asking for is not my advice. They're asking for "the magic bullet." A secret nugget of information that will gain instant results with minimum work. I'm here to tell you that doesn't exist. That's right, folks. There is no magic bullet. I'm sorry.

No guts? No glory? Yup, pretty much. Results do not happen instantly, and that is the number one reason why workout plans fail. People expect to do one round of the latest fad workout, and wake up with a body like Cindy Crawford or Matthew McConaughey the very next day.  It doesn't work like that. The best "exercise guru" advice that will undoubtedly achieve the results you seek are:

1. Hard work
2. Commitment
3. Discipline
4. Common sense

Okay, okay, I know what you're thinking, "You get paid $100 an hour just to tell me that?!?!?! Are you kidding me?!?!?" Well, no, of course not. I have spent years with my nose buried in exercise science books and sports medicine journals, paired with countless hours in training facilities applying that science to athletes and clients. I get paid for that. But in all seriousness, all of my knowledge and experience will do diddly squat if you don't have those 4 crucial elements when starting an exercise program.

It's actually a very simple concept. Consider it this way. Your child has decided they want to become a classical violinist and would like to play as a soloist at Carnegie Hall some day. Great. Fabulous. You run out and buy the little tyke the best Italian violin your money can buy, and hire the best violin teacher in town for your would-be virtuoso. For the first week, mini-YoYo-Ma can't put the violin down. By week 2, they are looking forward to their lesson but they aren't playing 8 hours a day anymore because by the end of last week's squeak-fest, their fingers became blistered and bloody. Week 3 rolls around and you begin to notice the Xbox is receiving more playing time than the violin. By the time you hit week 4, you have to duct tape the violin to the kid's hand to get him/her to touch, let alone PRACTICE the instrument. After some stomping, some tears, and a few whines, your child tells you, "This is a lot of work and it's too hard and it's no fun and I'm not any good! I QUIT!" An awkward phone call is made to the violin teacher, and the dream of Carnegie Hall is placed in the attic to be sold at a later date on Ebay.

Okay, that was a slight dramatization, but I can pretty much compare this to 80% of the people I've ever met that have joined a gym and/or hired a trainer, and failed to meet their goals.

So here is my honest advice on these 4 points for anyone looking to start working out and reach a set of goals.

1. Hard Work - Face it and stop lying to yourself. Exercise can really suck. You sweat. You breathe hard. You ache afterwards. The old school of thought is that if none of those things are happening, you're not doing it right. Unfortunately, that's true, but it's really not as sado/masochistic as it sounds! You need to stimulate your body beyond its current state of comfort and ability to yield a result. Hey, I don't make the rules of exercise science. I just reinforce them.

2. Commitment - "No! Try not. Do, or do not. There is no try." ―Yoda. Sage advice from a Jim Henson Muppet. Most people say they will try to workout X number of times a week, but there's always an excuse as to why it doesn't happen. The dog had a stomach ache. Your favorite NCIS repeat was on. Whatever. Listen to Yoda! Don't try to workout. Workout!

3. Discipline - This could also fall under the realm of commitment, but I'm speaking in terms of other lifestyle choices here. If you make the commitment to start working out to change your body and your health, you must adapt the rest of your lifestyle, as well. Lifestyle choices greatly impact exercise results. Dietary habits, alcohol consumption, and lack of sleep are the main culprits in this area. Power walking for 30 minutes does not give you permission to eat a double stack cheeseburger with french fries, drink a case of beer, and stay up all night. You know what you should be doing. It's just a matter of making the smarter choice for yourself. Which leads me into the last point.

4. Common Sense - Again, it's a simple concept of choosing cheesy french fries or a baked potato and salsa. It also is as simple as, "If it hurts, don't do it." I'm not talking about feeling the burn from muscle fatigue. I'm talking about real, genuine pain from a sprained ankle. And lastly, don't over do it! Trainers love when we get new clients that come to us with fresh enthusiasm and drive, but we don't love it when that drive sends them to excessively workout in the first week to the point where they are 1) too sore to blow their noses and 2) so miserable from being sore, they never want to workout again. Ease into it! Working out for a physical goal is a journey that takes time. I can't stress enough, it doesn't happen overnight!

So there you have it. The secrets to washboard abs, bikini-ready buns, and bulging biceps are NOT found in top secret exercise moves. The secret to running a faster mile or losing that extra 5 pounds is not found in the brand or color of shoes on your feet. Train your brain! What you really need to get yourself where you want to be is found in between your ears.

Kat and her fabulous advice can be found on facebook at: Kat Barrett Fitness

Thursday, August 11, 2011

America - Union Made

Growing up, there were few things more important to Dad than solidarity with his union brothers and sisters. If there was a strike on, we participated. Didn't matter who; didn't matter where. Migrant farmers, teachers, nurses, teamsters. The union is a brotherhood. A family. It was unity. And it mattered. A lot.

The union was Dad's religion. He believed in it's power and it's purpose. He understood that without them, the poor had no chance. No hope. No future. He would be absolutely livid at what's happening in this country. Honestly, I'm surprised he hasn't come up out of the grave and started knocking some heads together. He was that committed to the cause.

I'm disgusted at how much hate and vitriol has been thrown on unions and unionized employees starting with the two favorite targets: lazy municipal workers and lazy teachers. Do they exist. Yes. Are they the majority. Not even close. Unions are comprised of people. All kinds of people. Some of them lazy. Most, however, are hard working, conscientious people trying to make a living.
 
The Verizon strike isn't about health care or sick time or how many vacation days an employee gets. This is the final battle in the war against the middle class. A war on us. Our families. Our way of life. Our future.

If Verizon breaks their union, how long before your employer decides that you get too many holidays? How long until your employer decides that they won't contribute a dime to your health insurance? How long until your employer decides that you can do the work of two people?
 
We, the workers built this country and it's greatest companies. Without us, they have nothing. There's no industry. There's no wealth. There's nothing.

Unions set the standard. 

Unions matter.

Unions built the middle class and made it strong. Right now, the unions need the middle class to return the favor.

Sunday, August 7, 2011

Right to Repair

I’m turning my blog over to Leslie A. Natale so she can explain the Right to Repair bill.

My husband and I own a small repair shop in Brockton, Massachusetts. Right to Repair is the name of legislation that protects the rights of car owners to decide where and how they have their vehicles serviced, whether at a new car dealer or an independent service facility. It also ensures that you and not the car company can decide where that vehicle is repaired and maintained. 

The Right to Repair bill is designed so that automakers do not have to divulge proprietary information. The Right to Repair will require the automaker’s to make available to the independent shop the key codes for diagnosing problems. By not allowing access to this information, the automakers force you, the consumer, to go to a dealer when you need to repair your car. That makes it more expensive for you.

Independent repair shops are small businessmen and women, mom and pop outfits, that can’t compete in an environment where they are deprived basic, necessary information relevant to their business. These shops are run by skilled mechanics that are able to work on any vehicle in the world.

Small business is the key to economic recovery. There are over 5 million firms in this country that employ people and almost 80% of them employ fewer than 10 employees.

We are job creators and we’re putting America back to work but we need your help. Please support the “Right to Repair” legislation by clicking on this link and adding your name to the petition.

America’s only as strong as her middle class. 

Thanks to Leslie for bringing this to my attention. Leslie and her husband own Quality Collision in Brockton, MA. Check out their Facebook page! Make sure you click the LIKE button for special offers!

Learn more about the Right to Repair and sign the petition!

Saturday, July 30, 2011

Want some whine with that tea?

In the wake of the ridiculous temper tantrum the “Tea Party Caucus” is creating in Congress, I decided to do some research and find out about this powerful caucus. What I found was rank hypocrisy and self-serving legislation at, gasp, taxpayer’s expense. I also found that we, collectively, are being held hostage by 60 people.

That’s right SIXTY. Out of the 242 elected Republicans in the House of Representatives the “Tea Party Caucus” is 60 strong. Less than ¼ of elected Republicans.

Are you fucking kidding me?!

What do they stand for, you may be asking.

Here is an excerpt from one of there odious websites uses this to explain their mission: “…individuals united by our core values derived from the Declaration of Independence, the Constitution of the United States of America, the Bill Of Rights as explained in the Federalist Papers…”

Or, as I see them, petulant children that don’t like that their country is changing and modernizing. They march in parades and hand out pamphlets of the Constitution as if they are the only ones who have read and understand it. Yeah, kind of all done with them. When they’re not busy marching and making stuff up, they stomp around Congress until their demands are met.

What, you ask, is their main demand?

Changing the Constitution.

Jaw-droppingly hypocritical don’t you think?

Let’s take a look at these individuals. I’ve highlighted the Freshman members; listed here in alphabetical order. For a full listing click here: Tea Party Caucus

Sandy Adams (FL-24): Sandy is busy making sure that the USA doesn’t get duped into destroying the Constitution by not using international law in ANY court decision. Also wants the rich to not have to pay more in taxes and supports deregulation.

Diane Black (TN-06): One of the Evangelical members and, funny enough, one who wants to amend the Constitution. Has she even read it? Her legislative claim to fame: close the loophole in the health care law that would allow some middle class Americans to qualify for Medicaid.

One of her aides was responsible for sending an email around depicting a collection of portraits of United States Presidents showing current President Barack Obama as a black frame with only eyeballs visible. How charming and how very, very Christian.

Bill Cassidy (LA-06): Hasn’t sponsored or co-sponsored any legislation. White bred generic tea party republican.  

Jeff Duncan (SC-03): Boy does he have the stuff or what. Club for Growth just loves him! Plus, plum committee assignments. Wants to abolish all foreign aid (apparently because other countries are mean to us) and amend the Constitution. Why do they hate the Constitution so much? Also, wants to privatize much of what government does.

Blake Farenthold
(TX-27): Got himself some good committees to sit on. He introduced legislation to require Federal agencies to show receipts and expenditures every two weeks on agency websites. Like that’s not going to be an enormous time suck. Honestly. The stupid it burns.

Stephen Lee Fincher (TN-08)  This sums it up nicely: his company has received $8.9 million in farm subsidies over the past decade, mostly from the cotton program, according to U.S. Department of Agriculture data. He also received a $13,650 grant to help buy grain hauling and storage equipment from the state Department of Agriculture in 2009 as part of the Tennessee Agricultural Enhancement Program.

Oh guess it’s not welfare if you’re not poor. His legislative works include this: To amend the Farm Security and Rural Investment Act of 2002 to extend the suspension of the limitation on the period for which certain borrowers are eligible for guaranteed assistance.

Vicky Hartzler (MO-04): Another Evangelical who’s protecting us from the gays.

Tim Huelskamp
(KS-01): Endorsed by all the big guns: club for growth, mike huckabee, concerned women for America his biggest legislative contribution is making sure he keeps us safe from the gays and the unions. Also hates the Constitution.

Jeff Landry (LA-03): Ding, ding, ding, we have the winner. This is the guy who threw the Constitutional Amendment into the works. Why does he hate the Constitution? Oh, wait, seems as if Mr. Landry wants the government to make sure natural resources are cleaned up? Who’s going to pay for that Mr. Landry?

David McKinley (WV-01): Here we have the co-sponsor of Cut Cap and Trade. Plus he hates the EPA.

Mick Mulvaney
(SC-05): He’s hard at work co-sponsoring legislation to make certain that the legislation already enacted is enacted again. Plus a Constitution hater. Plus, the gays. Oh, and abortion.

Rich Nugent
(FL-05): Mike Huckabee thinks he’s a good guy! Busy on the “Legislation Already Enacted Committee.” Plus farm subsidies are good, clean air is bad.

Dennis Ross (FL-12): Hates the EPA and the Federal Government. Also hates the Constitution. Plus his website sucks.

Tim Walberg
(MI-07) – Another Club for Growth boy. Climate change denier. That’s about it.

Joe Walsh
(IL-08): Doesn’t like to pay child support (currently owes more than $100K in back support). Talks to the media a lot but no legislative history. ALEC loves him. Believes global warming is a hoax.

Allen West
(FL-22) – Yes the lovable Allen West. He’s legislative record is a laundry list of lunacy. Including the popular tea party pastime of relegislating items that have already been voted and approved. No tax payer money wasted there. Abortion, health care… blah, blah, blah.

So there you have it. Your “Tea Party Patriots”! They hate government regulations and welfare, well unless it’s corporate welfare and then it’s a fight to the front of the line. They hate the gays and they’re on a mission from god to save “Traditional” marriage (you know the ones where 50% end in divorce).

They want to waste precious taxpayer  money relegislating legislation that already exists just to make sure we all know that they mean business. For example, HR 3, No Taxpayer Funding for Abortion Act. This was legislated already in 1976 as the Hyde Amendment. Plus, they want to amend the Constitution. A lot (link to my blog about Failed Amendments). You know the one they’re sworn to uphold and protect.

They want to dismantle the Federal Government and they don’t care what happens because they are selfish, self –indulgent ideologues. Some of whom believe we are living in the end of days.

That’s right folks. End of Days. Like biblical revelations time. The apocalypse.

All the natural disasters this year that rational people attribute to climate change. Nope, Jesus is coming and boy is he pissed.

Those are the lunatics that are in charge in this country. In 2011.

Shit, maybe the Mayans are right after all.