A Therapist Called WOD

What can I say. I’m doomed. Strike that. This blog is doomed. Since June 6th this blog has taken a noticeable hit. It’s upsetting. It’s unfortunate. It’s because of CrossFit.

Raise your hand if you are shocked to hear me say that?

The other day I found myself saying “I have nothing to blog about anymore. Things don’t piss me off like they used to. It sucks!”

CrossFit has become my therapy the same way this blog once was. I’d find something that would piss me off and I’d rant about it. (Authors Note: Trust me. A few hot topics can still get me going. We all know what they are) Only now instead of writing about schmucks, morons and being anti-religion I take my aggression out with things like Dead Lifts and Power Cleans.

Crazy, right? It is. Only it works.

I feel better not only physically but mentally and emotionally. You see, that’s what CF is all about. It’s about bettering yourself not just in the Box but outside it. It’s important to reiterate that as I know I’ve said it before.

Here’s an example of how CrossFit and Therapy are alike...

In a Therapy session the Psychiatrist will break you down emotionally. They’ll take you to the grassroots of the issue at hand. This is exactly why some people claim they don’t like it. They’re afraid to face reality. They’re afraid to take their guard down. It’s an understandable fear I for one struggle with. Facing the facts and facing your faults is not anyone’s idea of fun.

But when you face reality you’re more equipped to face life.

In CrossFit you face your demons on a daily basis. You are tasked at working yourself to a level of effort you once deemed crazy. A level of effort you once deemed “not for me”. Doing things to your body and with your body you once thought only “superior athletes” can do. The word “can’t” is stricken from your vocabulary. Maybe you “won’t” do it but “can’t” doesn’t exist.

You take your guard down during a WOD. You leave your ego at the door. If you can’t lift as heavy as you’d like, you realize you’re doing your best and go as fast you can. You may not have the fastest time but you learn to be OK with that.

You’re competing against your own will.

Not a single WOD is easy in CrossFit. There is no cruising. The fittest athlete in the world can perform the same exact WOD as you and at the conclusion you'll find them ready to die on their hands and knees…and so will you.

You’re both vulnerable. Being vulnerable is healthy. Being vulnerable makes you stronger.

You both share a therapist called WOD.

Growing Up Static

Four bullet-proof topics sure to get my blood boiling even while living in an Abyss of Positivity: School Policy, Parenting, Religion & E-Readers.

Thanks to this article on a few “stressed schools” cutting out recess programs I am slowly climbing out of said Abyss. What is this world coming to? I’ll give you the answer…

The world is becoming a standardized test score. It’s becoming percentages. It’s becoming bar graphs and learning curves.

It’s becoming really frigging aggravating.

I’m not going to get into the illogical reasoning behind eliminating or decreasing recess in elementary schools. I’d be here all day. What I am going to do is harken back to a conversation about a similar issue I had with my mother about 10 years ago.

Around that time I had been working a lot with kids. I had begun to notice a pattern developing amongst, at least to me, an alarming number of families.

It was a pattern that scared me.

Parents were obsessively taking their kids to get extra tutoring after school or after camp.

The tutor service, SCORE, became so damn commonplace to these kids it bordered on abuse...at least in my eyes. I couldn’t help but feel bad for them. They seemingly never got to be kids even though most seemed to think it was normal.

However, their parents were creating robots. They were obsessed with their academic status and achievements in elementary school. Guaranteed they are the same type of parents who put the little green men in their front yard.

It pissed me off.

Back to my mother, I did something I rarely ever did back then and revealed a very real fear of mine to her. I told her I was afraid of raising a child in this ultra-competitive academic age because I simply do not agree with it. How was I supposed to raise my child without SCORE when all the other kids were?

Would it be unfair to my child? Would raising my future child to appreciate “being a child” and learn the “old fashioned way” be considered bad-parenting?

I’d rather pay $200 a month and take my kid out’ve school and go to a baseball game or go camping or do something interesting then pay for extra tutoring. And I got news for ya’, our kids are going to be applying to the same damn colleges anyway in 10 years. And another thing, this just in, the college you go to and the job you get as a result means less than what your guidance counselor tells you.

My mother agreed with my fear. She agreed it would be difficult to maintain your standards and said it was indeed pretty scary. It was a question without a real answer and it still is.

Kids are growing up in front of computers at home, in school, in the car and in the grocery store so mommy doesn’t have to be a mommy. They are on computer overload.

You know the saying, too much of a good thing?

They’re growing up lazy. They’re growing up uncreative. They’re growing up with no imagination. They’re growing up static.

Parents and school systems are robbing their children of childhood.

Now who’s being unfair?

Create Yourself

After being on an incredible Blogging Roll I have stumbled into an Abyss Of Positivity and it’s this very reason I’ve found myself wallowing in writer’s block.

It should come as no surprise that this AOP is located in Essex County, NJ. I’ve noted recently that the people at Brazen Athletics have begun to change my mindset for the better and as a result my blog has taken a major hit.

I’m changing. My blog is changing. Life is changing.

You hear a lot of people, even some who do CrossFit, wonder what is so special about it and why it’s so great. You’ll hear a myriad of answers but I’m going on record to say there is one definitive answer. And I’ll phrase it in the form of a question.

When or Where In Life Can You Succeed Every Single Day?

In CF you succeed the second you arrive at your Box. The CF mentality is to push yourself every workout like you’ve never pushed yourself before. Become comfortable being uncomfortable. Set your personal record (PR) each and every day.

Don’t pace yourself. Push yourself – Create Yourself.

It’s crazy but the Med Ball Cleans, Sumo Dead Lift High Pulls, and Box Jumps all translate to your life outside of The Box.

Success breeds confidence. Winning breeds confidence – Confidence breeds happiness.

There is no greater feeling than completing a WOD that a short time ago you would’ve looked at and said “That’s crazy. Definitely not for me.”

Translation: “I’m intimidated.”

A little over a year ago my wife and I would spend 45 minutes in a globogym going through your typical routine. 20 minutes on the treadmill. 25 minutes with the weights. Fantastic. Broke a little sweat. Tremendous. Feel great.

Fail.

Now my wife does 100 kettle bell swings, 80 push ups, 60 pull ups, 40 wall balls, 20 power cleans and runs a half mile in 25 minutes…and sweats a small child while collapsed on all fours. I couldn't be prouder of her. 

Win.

And that is why CF is addicting. She succeeded like never before. And tomorrow she’ll succeed again…

Authors Note: I just realized this was my 100th blog since inception. I had been planning something special but having fallen in the Abyss of Positivity it must have slipped my mind. Alas, 3 years ago I never would’ve thought I’d be 100 in. I’m proud of that. Win!

Decision Pathways

I don’t have children - I plan on having children.

Those familiar know I’m a guy who loves kids. If I said 10 years ago that I’d be 31 without kids I would’ve laughed in your face. Does it bother me? No it doesn’t. I think society puts an incredible amount of undo-pressure on people to have kids whether they are individually “ready” or not…

Let me stop at the “ready” comment as I could run off on a tangent. So what’s my point then?

Well, we’ve established I don’t have kids but that doesn’t mean I don’t think about my future family. Raising my kids in a generation, A Society of Bubble Wrap, is one that seriously concerns me, as we all know.

It scares me to know the idea of letting your kids just leave the house on a bike, gasp, sans helmet, is considered DYFS worthy.

It scares me to know that some school systems frown upon competitive games where one kid might, gasp, be deemed a “loser.”

It scares me to know that parents judge other parents over things like, gasp, what daycare your child may attend.

(Note: As we see, I’m guilty of judging parents just like you. Everyone judges. I’m not claiming to be above it)

It scares me to know I’ll inevitably have to debate with other judgmental parents the merits of raising my child, gasp, sans-dairy once they are off the B’.

I’m not sure this blog is headed in the direction intended.

Getting back to the things about parenting I’m scared of – the moral of the story is that when the wife and I do decide to have children I look forward to raising them the way we want to raise them. Not the way society deems appropriate. The cliché saying is that there is no right or wrong to parenting. As friends and family in my life have kids I see that truth shining brightly.

No two parents are alike. No decision is 100% the right one. No decision is 100% the wrong one. It’s personal. It’s private. Most importantly – it’s yours to make.

As a parent, we make our decisions every day and we set our kids on decision pathways. – Crossfit Lisbeth

5 Thursday RTO's

1) Am I in the minority when the first thing I think of when hearing Casey Anthony’s name is if Anthony is her middle or last name? Not whether or not she murdered her 2 year old. Her name sounds like a Hollywood stage name. I bet her real name is Cassandra Antoinette Baker. Something to that effect.

2) It infuriates me when another car reaches their stop sign before me and as I’m waiting for them to go first, as is their right, they wave me on. Cut the crap and drive. With me, your chivalry is lost in this instance.

3) Here are two things I’d like to know, and I want proof to back them up…

• Prove to me that no two-snowflakes are alike. Has someone analyzed every single snowflake that has ever fallen?
• Prove to me you can not die in your own dream. Is there a Dream Rule Book I’m unaware of?

4) Anyone who Replies All to a mass text needs to be shot. I don’t care that you are “So in!” and neither do the 25 other people who got your frigging response.

5) I hate rubberneckers…and yet everytime I encounter the situation and I’m cursing at the voyeurs in front of me I find myself gently embracing the brake peddle and taking a nice little gander myself. 

EXTRA: Bonus points go to the person who can tell me what "RTO's" stands for.

Your Trophy Case of Life

Reading this article is disappointing...

Americans Prefer E-Readers to Tablets (and the Gap is Growing)
By Graeme McMillan on June 29, 2011

Loyal readers of mine are familiar with my past blog, “A Book Is a Conquest”, and if you were to put a gun to my head I’d rank it in the Top 5 All-Time Greatest Blogs Ever Written By Anyone – Not Just Me.

(Yes that’s an actual Category)

What is 20% of society not understanding?

I don’t get it. I fully embrace the idea of technology in some areas of your life but it belongs nowhere near a book.

Not that I was ever one to inhabit a Library but I do find the idea of Libraries and their downward spiral into oblivion quite upsetting. In fact, what the hell is the point of a Library nowadays?

It’s sad. Big brick buildings flooded with books on topics from A – Z are becoming antiquated.

That’s going to be quite a garage sale when the final Library shuts down. The Library is the 21st Century version of the corner grocery stand. 

However releveant, I’ve gone off on a slight tangent.

I refuse to believe that a book can be read and enjoyed on a “Tablet” or an “E-Reader” or any such device that doesn’t have binding, pages to turn, and/or an inside flap. Don't even get me started on the lunacy of "reading" a "book" on some iPhone or Android or whatever the hell type of cell phone you own.

Society spends 8-10 hours of their day on some form of computer. Why go home and pick up another computer to “read” when you could sit and relax with an actual book? Half the pleasure of reading a book is the process of reading the book.

It's the comfort. It's the coffee by your side. It's the atmosphere. It's the picture on the cover. It's a temporary escape from reality.

It just doesn’t make sense.

Book’s are literary victories and should be displayed proudly in Your Trophy Case of Life. Not some piece of hardware.

I'm frustrated...and quite frankly I blame Costco

France Welcomes You

It’s about time I got back to what I’m good at – calling out the morons of society that plague our everyday life.

The other day I witnessed something so dreadful, so barbaric, so crass that I almost drove off the road. (No, it wasn’t the infamous little green men on the side of the road that so arrogantly tell me to slow down) It’s something no human being should ever be confronted with. Something no human should ever willingly partake in.

In fact, I’d go as far as to say that anyone who participates in the act of installing Carlashes on their vehicle’s headlights should be deported to France. I bet all the cars in France have Carlashes on them.

Who in their right mind would think such an accessory belongs on a car?

A moron that’s who. A schmuck maybe. Maybe a combination of the two, to be honest.

If you are said moron that either A) thinks these aren’t as bad as I say or B) actually paid money to have these put on your car than please, for the love of American society, please move to Canada. It’s the closest thing to France and you don’t have to fly there.

Comfortable With The Uncomfortable

The title of this blog is the mantra, if you will, of the CrossFit Box I have joined and I’m not sure you will find any truer words to live by.

In the gym it relates to pushing yourself past your cozy little womb of YMCA consistency. Doing things your body isn’t accustomed to doing. Lifting weights your body isn’t accustomed to lifting. Exercising in an environment sans Nautilus, Treadmills, Air Condition and Smoothie Bars with complimentary processed food.

It's hearing these words from a fellow CrossFitter...

“It’s pushing out the final 200 meters in a 5K row when you never thought you could & not giving a shit if someone sees you cry...Or being so thankful for the person standing next to you helping you push, because if it weren't for them it might have taken much longer to cross the finish line...”

Outside The Box it could mean many things for many different people.

• The shy college student who for the first time since their 2nd grade school recital has to make a speech in front of hundreds.
• The new employee who must present the quarterly report to the Board of Directors…on Day 1.
• The first time you are all by yourself in your college dorm and know no one.
• The first time you realize you should be calling adults by their first names and not using Mr. and Mrs. (Top 10 Most Stressful Moment In Life)
• The first time you have to ask a girl to the prom. (Top 5 Most Stressful Moment In Life)

Everyone has had at least 1 (for me about 8,453) moment in their life when they find themselves emotionally uncomfortable. Paralyzed by the fear of rejection or failure. Some turn and walk away, giving in to the seemingly impenetrable detour.

Others forge on. Others keep going despite knowing failure is, in fact, a legitimate option.

Or is it?

What is failure after all? Is it not completing the task at hand or is it not giving a 100% concerted effort to complete the task?

It’s the latter. That’s failure. I, for one, tend to think its both. But that’s the unrealistic-uber-competitive-guy speaking. In reality you may never accomplish everything you set out to do. But you’ll have a much better chance if you go 100% and not 60%.

Once you learn to be Comfortable In The Uncomfortable you’ll find the next detour in life isn’t as intimidating as it once seemed.

You’ll face it head on...and you’ll be a better person for it.

Those Dang Curse Words

Quite often people present me with topics to blog about. Sometimes I agree with them and sometimes I don’t. There are times when I agree but don’t share the same passion as this blog demands (and deserves). In such cases, I’ll suggest they Guest Blog.

Well, yesterday I had a topic thrown my way and I’m gonna take it and run with it. Thanks J'...

People who tell you to stop using “foul” or “inappropriate” language can go ahead and Give Me a Fucking Break

I’m not quite sure what the big deal is with using “curse” words. They’re words. That’s all they are. What is the big deal with saying “shit”, “asshole” or, gasp, “fuck”?

Words are what you make of them. Words are only defined by the emotions behind them. This all relates to how sensitive society has become. People are always on the look out for an insult. People live on the defensive. People live with their lawyer on speed dial.

This just in, there is no difference between saying “shoot” and “shit”. They mean the same exact thing in context. If you’re one of the morons that prefers to say “shoot” as opposed to “shit” I’m sure there is a commune in Pennsylvania, Tennessee or Utah that would love to have ya’. We all know you’re thinking “shit” in your head. Just say the frigging word and stop being so damn righteous and fake.

I applaud parents who don’t walk on language-eggshells around their kids. Do I think 5 year olds should run around the playground cursing? No I don’t. Do I think you should liberally throw F-Bombs around children? No I don’t. However, if you take your children out in the real world and someone should curse in front of them, keep your mouth shut and deal with it.

That’s life.

Words are like Religion. If you don’t agree with the words I use or the beliefs I maintain then keep the preaching to yourself.

Fucking spare me, people!

An Office Space Existence

In an overwhelming show of support from The CrossFit Community since wednesday's blog I have to thank everyone for their kind words. They do mean a lot and I have to specifically thank Brazen Athletics for leading the groundswell both in and out of The Box…pun intended.

The last 48 hours of positivity must be a little bit of a culture shock to my loyal readers whom are used to hearing me rant about things in society that piss me off. Fear not – the anger is still alive and kicking and my opinion can’t be reigned in. However, I can’t deny seeing a ray of sunlight creeping through the clouds.

It’s this particular ray of sunshine, and an email with a friend and fellow CrossFitter from here, which led me to stumble upon the reality that most of us live in an...

Office Space Existence

As I mentioned yesterday, much of the CrossFit appeal lies in the passion the owners and members share to their craft.

It’s impressive. It’s rare. It’s inspiring.

So why does it seem so hard to attain. What about “Doing what you love” is so damn difficult when it should be so damn simple?

It should be basic. It should be instinctive. It should be innate.

Most of the questions can be answered by one phrase that I tend to fully subscribe too, “Life Happens.”  We, as a society, tend to look at “Life” almost as though it's a burden which keeps us from doing what we enjoy. “Life” and all its trappings keeps us from being our happiest. Our most spontaneous. We spend our weeks wishing them away, counting down the days to Friday or the weekend instead of living every day to the fullest.

Why does “Life” get in the way of truly “Living”? They should be one in the same.

It’s not easy. But if you know anything about CrossFit you know that “easy”, along with “can’t”, are left at the door.

Don’t let “Life” get in the way of “Living.”

I admire those that choose not to collect a paycheck sitting amongst a maze of cubicles because that’s what American society not-so-subtly prioritizes. I admire those who choose not to do what is considered “the norm”. I admire them because I have never been able to do that. I am not one who can easily break free from the Office Space Existence.

I admire them for Living Healthy, Happy and Passionately (LHHP) in one Box one WOD at a time.

The Culture of CrossFit

Anyone within an earshot of this blog knows there are several things (many things) I am definitive on. For example, I don’t believe in god, I support the Military like it’s my job, I hate Costco, I believe a book belongs on paper not a handheld computer and I hate the little green men on the side of the road that tell me to “Slow Down”.

Well we can now add one more item to that list of passions – I RFL CrossFit. (more on acronyms later)

I could go into detail and talk about the types of exercises you are put through. I could talk about the incredible shape and condition CrossFitters are in.

Or I could talk about The Culture of Crossfit.

It’s The Culture of CrossFit which drives its success and is the backbone to it’s undeniable appeal. It’s TCCF that makes putting yourself through hell actually fun. It’s TCCF that has you wanting to exercise after work as opposed to feeling like a mindless-robot on level 6 drowning amongst a sea of treadmills.

CrossFit is more than just exercise. It’s a way of life. It’s, as they say, Epic.

It’s a community. It’s acronyms. It’s nicknames. It’s a digital clock. It’s a white board. It’s Throwdowns. It’s the vacant warehouse space at the back of the parking lot transformed into a Facility of Inspiration.

It’s working out with people for 5 minutes and feeling like you’ve known them for 5 years.

It’s doing burpees next to someone who looks like they were cut from stone and the second you feel out’ve place you realize you’re all on the same team. You realize they aren’t looking down on you. You realize they are actually working with you and not against you. They push you to be your best and expect you to reciprocate.

It’s leaving the word “can’t” at the door.

It’s working out with people named “Big J”, “Rhabdo” and “The Warrior”.

It’s going to The Box and attacking your WOD RFF and RFL it and then returning for an epic 17 minute AMRAP the following day.

(Translation: It’s going to where you work out and completing your Workout of the Day Really Fucking Fast and Really Fucking Loving it and then returning for an epic 17 minute As Many Rounds As Possible the following day)

It’s watching grown men fight back tears when talking about opening up their own Box and thinking to yourself, “Wow. Where does my passion lie?”

It’s realizing pain is temporary but your health is everlasting.

Brazen Athletics in Fairfield, NJ puts it best…

“…the methods through which we train are direct reflections of the walls that stand against you in life.”

"Showing Appreciation" - Memorial Day

The following blog was written by yours truly and posted on a good friend’s blog approximately 2 years ago. I welled up as I wrote it back then. I well up every time I read it now.

Also, it's a blog that rings true 365 days of the year. Not just on Memorial Day…

"Showing Appreciation"

This past holiday weekend I spent 2 days in Tallahassee and seemingly twice that amount of time on an airplane. As a result, I witnessed many things throughout my travels both good and bad. Everyone knows that you can see a little bit of everything while sitting and waiting in airports.

One event that stuck out happened not in the terminal but on the airplane itself. Behind me sat a young man, maybe 23 years old, and dressed in fatigues. He exuded poise and confidence yet underneath his camouflaged exterior he drowned in shyness and humility.

He had been “going home for the first time in a year” and had been away for 2 of the last 3 years in Iraq. After speaking with his chin held high you couldn’t help but notice the harsh reality of the last several years when he lost eye-contact for the first time and uttered “It’s weird to be going home...”

It was as though he was no longer talking to a stranger in 19A but to his journal back in Baghdad.

As the plane landed and the seat-belt lights went dark everyone immediately stood up as though they were a part of a Pavlov experiment. Evidently they all had somewhere better to be than he did. Only this time the stewardess put that unnecessary frenzy to an immediate halt.

She had something more important in mind…

“Ladies and Gentleman before everyone gets ready to leave the plane I’d like to ask a favor. We have a young gentleman back there who is returning from overseas and it would be our honor to let him depart the plane first to get to his family. Thank you very much sir. We appreciate everything you do. Have a great weekend and Happy Memorial Day.”

Cue the standing ovation from everyone on the plane…and yours truly fighting back the tears…and you have Staff Sgt Montgomery reluctantly leaving the plane as if to say, “Thank you very much…but I’m no better than any of you.”

Yet we all know he is.

Fast forward to the terminal and you have his significant other and their infant son waiting for him with a sign that reads, “Welcome home Staff Sgt Montgomery/Daddy!!”

Stick a fork in me. I’m done.

Some people’s definition of Memorial Day varies. To most people it’s an invitation to enjoy lack-of-sleep and a lot of partying. The true meaning of Memorial Day is intended to honor American soldiers who have fought and died for the country.

Something tells me his Memorial Day was a lot more significant than ours.

So when we’re all pissed that our flight is delayed and we forgot to set up the DVR we can all think of what a delayed flight means to people like Staff Sgt Montgomery.

Give Her The Chair

I’m sorry but someone can not sit here and defend this woman not being killed for this crime...

Life sentence for Ohio mom who microwaved baby

...Instead shes going to go to prison for the rest of her life on the taxpayer’s dime.

Also, I do not want to hear anyone’s argument against the Death Penalty. The fact of the matter is that this woman, after being proven guilty in the court of law, should be taken to the back room and have her life taken from her.

Put a “Death Row” in every courthouse in America. That will eliminate long lines (a typical defense for people arguing against the Death Penalty), red tape and costs involved.

Its so outrageous it forced me to blog twice in one day. That should tell you something.

I'd Fake Death If I Were Him

Those familiar with this blog know there are, ahem, just a few things in this world that drive me crazy. One of which happens to be Oprah Winfrey.

Society's fascination with this woman is mind-boggling so you can imagine my reaction upon reading this article: Man fakes robbery in attempt to score Oprah tickets

I began to imagine what the article might look like had it been written about me? I think it might look something like this...

Man fakes death in attempt to avoid Oprah’s final taping

New Jersey Police Dept.

Hundreds of thousands hoped to score one of the 13,000 tickets to Oprah Winfrey's final shows, but only one man (as far as we know) staged a death in an attempt to be no-part of the "Surprise Oprah! A Farewell Spectacular" on Tuesday.

NJ Police say the man spun a tale to police claiming he was pleading for someone to take his show tickets and had the scrapes to prove it. NBC News reports that officers say he "allegedly tried to leap to his death off the side of the GWB and if that didn't work he was prepared to bury himself alive," and told police he was begging to die, then later admitted it was only his dream for this to happen.

Apparently, the whole world really wanted tickets, and he told police he didn't want the world to be unhappy, and believed he could sell the tickets at the local Shop-Rite, where the shows fans tend to congregate. The tickets, in fact, were given away via a lottery. Harpo Productions, Winfrey's production company, received more than 154,000 requests for seats to Tuesday's taping.

He was charged with having common sense.

Making Good Time - A Guest Blog

The following contribution is from a loyal reader and past guest blogger. Everyone's Entitled to My Reader's Opinion as well. For the sake of anonymity she is now Charley from Charlotte. Enjoy....

What is it about travelling that makes us obsessed with "making good time"??

And let's be honest....when we say making good time, we mean it in the literal sense of down to the very minute!! We don't round up or down, we say we were on the road at 9:10am exactly and pulled into the driveway at 10:59am!! Great time!! Excellent time!

So what's with the obsession?

Does someone care? Is someone giving us an award at the end of the trip? Is there a finish line where people cheers us as we cross? Or is it the simple satisfaction of knowing we "made great time"??

And while we're being honest, if we didn't make good time you can damn well be sure to hear WHY we didn't make good time.

Traffic. Some jackass in the fast lane. Damn kid had to stop to go to the bathroom (oh wait...a good driver would stop the time-clock due to kids...UNLESS they still made great time with the clock running...then you would hear all about it"!!)

It’s annoying.

For the record, the other day, I made "great time" driving to my friend Cheryl’s!!! Both there adn back!

Take that you jackass in the fast lane!!

A Man

Every now and again you come across a photo that evokes a particular reaction. Be it fear, anger, sadness, regret or something entirely different, there is always an initial reaction.

This particular photo is one of many for me but its one that tops the list.

I’d be surprised if there is anyone who isn’t familiar with this photo or at least doesn’t find it recognizable. 

I’m not sure there is a 9/11 news story or documentary produced that I have not seen. Personally, I make an effort to watch as many as I can and I'd say 90% of them end up including this photo in some terribly sad montage.

My reaction?

I don’t cry. At least not initially.

I don’t get angry. At least not initially.

I don’t get scared. At least not initially. 

I do, however, find my heart skips a beat. I feel as thought I may get sick for that brief flash in time.

No photo of a complete stranger evicts such a reaction in me quite like this one. Just look at this picture. Look at his eyes. Check that. Look into his eyes.

What do you see? Here’s what I see…

A man shrouded in fear and shock. I see a man running into an unknown. Running towards an unimaginable hell only those present could possibly fathom.

A man with, I imagine, a wife and kids back home. A man who doesn’t do what he does because he’s asked to but a man who does what he does ‘cause his instincts guide him.

A man who knows death is knocking on the door yet finds the strength to keep the door shut long enough to save not himself but others.   

The next time you see someone complain about long lines at the airport, or tight stadium security or any other "invonvenience" in your precious little life think about the man in this picture.

You won't be the only one.

I could go on and on. And I’m quite certain he could’ve as well…

The Visor That Launched a Blog

Listen, I fully support all things Gucci. Do I currently own anything Gucci? No. Do I wish I owned a Gucci watch? Yes. Does my wife want a Gucci handbag? Yes. Does my wife want to own the entire Gucci accessory line? Yes.

So why all this random talk about my desires regarding this fine Italian luxury brand?

I’ll tell you why. Some people take it a little too far and it’s aggravating. There is a big difference between having some expensive fashion taste and being a complete label whore.

People need to tone it down. You Louis Vuitton handbag owners (85% of New Jersey Female Residents) know what I’m talking about as well. Don’t act like you don’t. Why else would you spend that kind’ve money on a handbag that isn’t even leather? Is the hardware that ritzy?

Again don’t get me wrong. I support the luxury brands. I’m not an Anti-Luxurite.

Anyway, veered off the track there. Back to Gucci…

I was at a local diner yesterday and a guy walks in with 2 of his friends. They’re dressed very casual. As in, they could’ve just went to the gym. One of these morons was wearing gym shorts, a sweatshirt…and a tan Gucci logo-imprinted visor.

Really, pal? Don’t be a schmuck.

Not only is it hideous but it screams you went to the Gucci store and that was the only thing you could afford so you went for it. Otherwise, there is no point in owning that visor…

None whatsoever.

OBL's Final Diary Entry Published

You read it hear first, everyone. Osama Bin Laden's final Diary entry. A look into the mind of the most wanted terrorist in the world. This is fascinating...

Diary Entry No. 2,476

It’s now been over 9 years since I had, strike that, since Allah had the great idea of playing jockey with a bunch of 747’s and reigning terror on those bastard westerners I am so jealous of, strike that, hateful of.

I have to admit, however, I did not anticipate I’d be isolated in this dreary compound back when I was in the luxury of my Tora Bora caves. Those Afghan mountain winters were for the birds though.

To start, the whole 3 wives route was a decision I made rather hastily. I knew the Big Love kick would come back to haunt me. Damn you, Allah. Not to mention the 387 kids as a result. Aah, to be single and wealthy again. Have you seen the cost of tuition at those colleges in the states? Some of my great terrorist leaders studied there. But that was when it was affordable. Hopefully I live to see my youngest graduate from Abbottadad Community College. Go ACC Cougars! If they don't beat those rich kids from the U of Islamabad in this year's "Battle of the Bands" I'm going to be pissed.

There I said it. Those spoiled Islamabad kids drive me crazy. Anyway, to continue...

I’m still annoyed at the Pakistani Phone Company (PPC) for not connecting my service. Not to mention the fact whenever I have a courier go to their HQ’s they get the shaft. What happened to old fashioned customer service? I guess it’s all well and good since the Evil West is trying to tap my phone’s anyway. They can be so annoying.

I’d also like to make note that if I see another Wal-Mart pop up on my Holy Land I’m going to take my sandals and throw ‘em at the first Capitalist I see.

I probably shouldn’t keep complaining because at this point many thought I wouldn’t even be alive but I can’t help it. Between you and me, Diary, I am getting pretty sick of having chickens every damn day. I do appreciate the fact we raise them organically but you’d think one of my couriers would take it upon themselves and leave the compound and bring back Chinese or Italian food one of these days. Would it kill him? If it didn’t, I may that’s for sure.

What’s funny is that I actually hear some rustle outside as we speak. Maybe I spoke to soon and my trusted courier has flown in some authentic Indian? Don’t tell my Pakistani friends at the nearby Military Academy of course. They'd go crazy if they knew!

I've said it before but I'm saying it again, Allah has a way of surprising you when you least expect it doesn't he? Yup. Sounds like the food is here, with great fanfare might I add?! 

A lot of excitement out there! I wonder if they know I'm in my ro

Mogadishu Music Festival

I’ve received some flack of late regarding a slight blip in the Blogging Roll I was on. My defense was that society had been lacking of late in providing me with topics (quality topics worthy of writing about – we all know I have an opinion on everything).

And then I read this…

American jihadist leads pro al-Qaida rally in Somalia

Surprisingly I’m not even sure where to begin with this one. I could go the obvious route and talk about how this guy is obviously a certified lunatic.

I could say that I hope the man dies a slow and tortured death much the same way I hoped Bin Laden did…to the dismay of some of my loyal readers of course.

I could say people like him and terrorists like him are the reason the “War on Terror” will never end and anyone who thinks it will is as clueless as he is. We’ll be fighting Al-Qaeda and other Professional Psychos for as long you and I are on the planet.

Or what I could say is that I find it hysterical that he held a rally in Somalia and I couldn’t help but picture the scene. A Woodstock like atmosphere. A grassy field with your garden variety AK-47-wielding militia members celebrating the greatness of Allah. I bet there is a banner hanging somewhere that say’s “The 2011 Mogadishu Music Festival”

I just find it hysterical to picture. If you look at the photo in the article it looks like the four men at the table behind the podium are thinking to themselves,

“How is this American higher ranked then we are? This is ridiculous and another example of the West keeping us down…We tried for over a year to get permits to hold this rally and he comes in here and has it all set up in just a few weeks....Next year when he’s killed by the CIA and we get to run this thing we will do it bigger and better. I swear, if Allah is my witness, we’ll have cotton candy and maybe even get Hootie and The Blowfish to perform!”

Now, after looking at the picture of this bearded and dirty American standing at the podium in a Mogadishu park, am I the only one that thought all of this?

Cheering Death

It's been about 48 hours since we announced the killing of Bin Laden. That's 48 hours longer than I usually need to form an opinion...

I’m getting sick and tired of hearing people get annoyed at others who say they cheered the death of someone. I’m sorry but you are allowed to cheer the death of a man who planned and executed the deaths of thousands and whom would kill you if he had the opportunity.

Enough of this holier than now bullshit. The man got what he deserved – death at the hands of those he wanted dead.

It should be cheered. The death of this man should be cheered. We should make a holiday out've the damn day and make fancy dinners and eat lots of dessert and drink lots of wine on this day from here on out.

I’m glad he died. I hope the 40 minutes in the compound were spent slowly torturing the man and then making it look clean by putting a bullet in his forehead. Hence, why they quickly dumped his body out at sea.

And another thing…

If I hear one more person say there is “closure” now that he is dead I may jump off the GWB.

I’m sorry but there is no such thing as “closure” when it comes to things like this. If you lost a loved one in 9/11 or as a result of the ensuing wars, the fact that Bin Laden was killed does not change the fact you have lost a loved one.

Does it help? Maybe. Depends on the person. But it does not close that chapter in your life. It never will. It’s just another in the long line of ridiculous statements people make regarding death. Emotions don’t just “close.”

Death is an open book of emotions with no ending…End of story.

A Category 2 Wedding

By the end of this week I think it’s safe to say you will fall under one of the following categories:

Category 1 - I’m Sick of this Royal Wedding Shit
Category 2 – This Royal Wedding Stuff is Fascinating

As the title of my blog suggests, “Everyone is Entitled to My Opinion”  so I feel it’s important to state I’m a member of  Category 2. I’m willing to bet most of my readers out there are surprised by this fact since I tend to come off as negative. However, I’m actually a ball of positivity…what – not buyin’ that?

Here’s why I’m a Category 2 Supporter...

In a world consumed by things like the internet, computers and all things futuristic it’s nice to have a little old-fashioned Royalty. Carriages, Cavalry, Swords and Castles are much more interesting then Armored Limousines, Black SUV Motorcades, Handguns and Colonials.

In America, every girl growing up dreams of Fairytales and Princesses while boys want to be Knights and Kings. Unfortunately for them it’s fake. It’s in the movies. It’s the stuff you find animated and in Orlando or Anaheim.

Well it’s not that way in England. It’s the real deal and I find it extremely interesting.

Do I know all the history involved with The Royals? No. I don’t. And I don’t pretend to.

What I do know is that the idea of Kings and Queens and Royal Family lineage is fascinating as it relates to world history. On a lesser, more personal note, I also know I’m fascinated by Princess Di’ and what eventually happened to her in 1997.

My mother used to always tell me how much she admired Princess Di’. She always loved what she stood for and how she wouldn't allow The Royal Family to force their values on her. Therefore, I became a Princess Di’ supporter by association (PDSA). Naturally this increased my interest in The Royals and now this wedding.

It doesn’t hurt that watching Princess Di’ always reminds me of my mother – both in physical appearance and the emotional connection. Whenever I look at Princess Di's face I inevitably see my mother in her eyes. The night Princess Di’ was killed in a car accident I woke my mom up to tell her what happened. She was stunned and she cried. That always stuck with me and it’s a memory I think about quite often.

I didn’t envision this blog to lead where it lead but it did and maybe that’s why I fall under Category 2.

A Nation of Aliens

The debate of whether or not Aliens and UFO’s exist is always interesting and one of many I enjoy discussing. Much the same way I believe Atheism is another term for common sense I believe the existence of Aliens to be the same.

Now, if you really break it down I can see why someone might find it hard to believe.

If you believe in Aliens then you…

1) Believe in Alien life forms on planets
2) Believe in Alien life forms visiting other planets by way of spaceships
3) Believe in landing Alien spaceships on other planets and returning with “samples” for study
4) Believe in the idea of needing to colonize other planets for future Alien survival

I mean that’s pretty crazy!

If I were to say I believed in all of that I bet 60% of you out there would recommend a good head doctor. I wonder what happens if I change the word “Alien” with “Human”?

If you believe in Humans then you…

1) Believe in Human life forms on planets
2) Believe in Human life forms visiting other planets by way of spaceships
3) Believe in landing Human spaceships on other planets and returning with “samples” for study
4) Believe in the idea of needing to colonize other planets for future Human survival

Now what would you call me? You’d probably call me someone with common sense and someone who states the obvious. You’d probably throw a four-letter word at me also - NASA.

Still a nonbeliever?

Is It Difficult Being a Moron?

I happened on an article posted on CNN.com (which then linked to Parenting.com) called “Meet the Same Sex Parents Next Door”. It’s written by a woman who has 2 children and is raising them with her “Partner” in Brooklyn. She speaks of how her situation is becoming more a part of America’s Social Fabric than she first realized and is proud of that fact. A nice story...

And then people like joyblessedx3 had to open her mouth:

Submitted by joyblessedx3 on February 17 2011 - 12:21am.
"This article makes me sick!!! God did not make same sex people to have children for a reason!! I am SOOOOO mad at Parenting for running an article such as this. I brought it straight in from the mailbox and trashed it as soon as I saw this article. I am also throwing away all the issues I had saved now that I know the publishers have absolutely no values!!!!! Furthermore, I will be discontinuing my subscription and advising my friends as to the trash you people publish!!!!!! This is unacceptable !!!!!! I pity the children of these "women"."

Ok Ms. joyblessedx3 I now have some questions for you and your warped ideologies…

1) Did God make you the ignorant moron that you are or did you actually have to work at it?

I was planning on listing more but I’m gonna leave it at that. Short and to the point. I actually should appreciate people like this because they provide me with plenty of blogging fodder. Yet another gift from the BG's. (Blogging God's for my new readers)

Thank you, joyblessedx3, and may The Big G’ bless!

Amen.

10 Questions - The Noah's Ark Edition

Considering it has now rained 47 out’ve the last 49 days here in New Jersey, and every other town conveniently located along the majestic, ahem, Passaic and Raritan Rivers is headed towards an Atlantis existence, I began thinking more and more about floods.

The type of floods where the entire world disappears. Kind’ve like the one where The Big G’ supposedly warned young Noah of before he opened up the proverbial gates.

To no one’s surprise I have some thoughts on this flood and Noah’s Ark.

Question #1
Did Noah build this boat by himself or did he have any professional help?

I only ask cause I imagine it must’ve been very difficult to construct a boat big enough to house every single animal on the planet by himself. I wonder why you really only hear about Noah. I wonder if there are distant family members who get annoyed at this story every time it rains cause they secretly harbor a resentment towards Noah and his glory seeking. Sounds to me like Noah wanted all the attention.

And what about The Big G’ himself? If he was going to flood out the world you’d think he’d at least lend a helping hand. Maybe engineering help at least. Maybe he referred a Contractor to Noah? That would’ve been helpful.

Question #2
Did Noah come up with one of those witty names for the boat or was Noah’s Ark the official name?

If I were Noah I might’ve gone with, “I Noah It’s Gonna Flood!” or “This Flood’s For You” but that’s just me.

Question #3
Again with the question of assistance – Did Noah have help in wrangling up all the animals and if so how did he travel across the world to get each one?

Maybe The Big G’ let him use his NetJet? I bet his PJ is sweet too, assuming you can handle the gaudy decorative sense he probably had. I bet the in-flght service was impeccable!

Question #4
Did Noah skirt his responsibilities once the waters receded or did he return each animal to where he got them?

Thanks to Noah…and crew (I wont forget about you folks)…we now have an animal kingdom so I hate to lay a seed of doubt amongst his greatness. The question has to be asked though.

I have to hope The Big G’ paid him handsomely for this.

Question #5
Did Joan get her name from working on Noah’s crew?

Question #6
Did Noah have a chance to decline this incredible burden asked of him?

I’m not saying I would’ve turned it down. I mean if The Big G’ asked me to build a yacht out’ve balsam wood to save the animal kingdom I’d say, “Pass the hammer!” But Noah and I may be few and far between. I wonder if he had second thoughts?

That being said, I bet his second thoughts were far from his mind when he was boozing it up on the PJ headed to the jungles of South America.

Question #7
How did the selection process go?

I mean it must’ve been heartbreaking to pick one male and one female of every species of animal and then watch them say goodbye to their loved ones. This was like the Sophie’s Choice of the era. I couldn’t imagine.

Question #8
When Noah had all the animals on board and in life jackets did they set sail or did they simply sit tight and await the flood? Also, did the aquatic animals require life jackets?

This is an interesting question. Did he build the boat on land and just wait for the water or did he head to the Mediterranean and build it in the water. I bet he had access to The Big G’s boat slip in the Mediterranean. You get sweet perks at those ritzy Marina’s too. He probably took full advantage of the evening happy hour. I know I would.

Question #9
If you were Noah what would you order at the Marina’s Happy Hour if you knew you were a storm cloud away from flooding away into oblivion?

I think I’d have a Margarita. Rocks. No salt. Simple. Slightly cliché but a favorite.

Question #10
Why did The Big G’ want to flood out the world in the first place?

He could’ve saved everyone a whole lot of heart ache if he just chose to have a big rain storm and not some apocalyptic nonsense. Was it worth it in the end considering the logistics of having to build The Ark, higher Noah for the job, pay for travel and expenses and other planning involved? I bet it was one of those life lessons things The Big G’ is so good at. Maybe Noah was lazy and he wanted to show him the value of hard work.

10 Questions to think about. I know I am. Now, if anyone has the answers to these questions please let me know. In particular, if you are a distant relative of someone who worked on Noah’s crew but didn’t get the credit deserved now is your chance to make a statement!

Bonus Question #1:
Was Noah the only human to know of this impending flood and if true did it wipe out the existing human population as well? Why wasn’t there ever a Noah’s Ark for humans?

If it was a secret it’s yet another heavy burden bestowed upon him. I bet he had to sign a confidentiality agreement much like Bruce Willis did in Armageddon. I’m willing to bet he warned more than a few people at the Marina beforehand. I imagine Noah at the very least told the bartender or the 1st pretty little lady who saddled up next to him.

Could you blame the poor guy?

Bonus Question #2:  (Sorry I can't help it)
Did Noah have a last name or was it one of those Madonna type things?

I feel like everyone only went by first names back then. Mary, Noah, God, Jesus, Joseph, John, Paul, etc etc. Or was "Christ" Jesus' last name?

Ok now I'm confused...

A Society of Bubble Wrap

Photo from NY Daily News (D. Anschutz/Getty)

It’s as if the Blog Gods, otherwise known as The BG’s, came down and handed me a gift from, well, the Gods. The following article and topic is absolutely ridiculous and anyone who may disagree with me belongs in a commune in the outer reaches of Siberia.

NY Daily News
Classic kids games like kickball deemed unsafe by state in effort to increase summer camp regulation

Now your precious little Timmy or your dainty little Madeline can’t play Kickball, Wiffle Ball, Tag, Dodgeball and any other kids games because they’re deemed dangerous??

You can’t be serious. Please tell me you’re not serious. I’m talking to you…

“Bronx resident Kim Wainright….’Kids these days are kinda brutal so I can see those games being dangerous…I agree with it.” (NY Daily News)

Oh really. Do you, Kim? Let me guess – your 5 year old is the wuss on the playground? Or the out’ve shape one? Or the one that comes home complaining they were picked last?

Society is becoming a playground of bubble wrap. Fat kids in bubble wrap!

The playground is the first place in a child’s life where they realize where they stand. They realize how to “survive”. They figure out how they stack up both physically and mentally.

It provides an arena of competition. An arena that actually exists in real life. An arena with winners and, gasp, losers!!

Kids these days are going to grow up/are growing up in a cozy little womb of righteousness. This just in, parents who support this, life is competitive. Sometimes Timmy is going to come home crying ‘cause my son whacked him in the face with a dodgeball. That doesn’t mean you go and sue the schoolboard ‘cause your son can’t catch. And if you pick up the phone and have the audacity to call me and complain here is what I’ll say to you…

“I heard about that dodgeball game. I’m proud of him for playing well. I apologize if your son got hurt. Maybe next time he’ll get to be on his team so that wont happen again.”

Instead of calling the Principal and complaining, how about teaching him to come back next time and outsmart my son. Or figure out another way to defeat him. Or if all else fails, if you cant beat ‘em – join ‘em!

Novel ideas!! If that doesn’t work I’m sure you can take ‘em in the classroom. My imaginary son probably will be beatable in that arena.

Instead of running and crying for momma how about learning and adapting. Evolution style. Survival of the Fittest.

Anyone out there that agrees with this article is wrong. Flat wrong. This is not an opinion. This is fact. Sometimes in life you lose. Sometimes in life you get hurt. Sometimes in life you get dirty. Sometimes life sucks.

This is life. Deal with it. The earlier your kids realize this the better.

A Coward Among Us

This current topic couldn’t have come at a better time. I’ve been trying to brainstorm different blog ideas for a while now. I wanted to keep my streak going but was having a hard time...

And than it happened. Forgive me. YOU happened!

I’ve fallen victim to the actions of someone without a soul. Someone so cruel and unjust it's hard to even fathom how I allowed myself to be associated with them in the first place. 

I’m taking my feelings to the blog world and now my readers from Portland to New York, Denmark to Vietnam, and Florida to Hong Kong will all see you for who you are...

A coward.

I can see you now. Mouse in hand. Clicking away like life is one giant computer screen. Emotionless. Devoid of any true feelings or sensitivity. Well let me tell you something, whoever it is you are, life isn’t played on a computer screen. It’s played with souls. It’s played with dreams. It’s played with laughter and love. And most importantly, it’s played with friends.

You Un-Friended me on Facebook.

And now I know where we stand. Now I know.