State of the Union Tweets

A few tweets from last night’s State of the Union address:

  • “Fifty bucks the Vice President picks his nose. Fifty bucks he eats it.” From Caddyshack 3: #SOTU
  • John Boehner looks like he’s unsuccessfully trying to use the Jedi Mind trick. #SOTU
  • I’ve read ahead on the #SOTU speech. Love where he talks about invading Mars and legalizing cock fighting.
  • Remember when Nancy Pelosi never blinked a single time during the#SOTU#classicSOTUmoments
  • Wasn’t “Fracking” a bad word on Battlestar Galactica?
  • Nation-building here at home? We’re invading Texas in the morning.
  • Yup. And Texas has oil.
  • Watching VP Biden, I expect him to jump up and blurt out the F-word at any moment.
  • To John Boehner, the President sounds like Charlie Brown’s parents. Wah wah wah wa wa wah. #SOTU
  • I propose forming a financial crimes unit — CSI: Wall Street #SOTU Tuesday nights on #NBC
  • Washington isn’t totally broken. They just figured out we can’t stand them.
  • Now for the part of the #SOTU where the anchors tell us what we just heard.
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Fit-to-Fat-to-Fit Blog: Day 10

Goal Weight: 195

Today’s weight: 228.

Fatigue is a thief who’ll pilfer your hopes and steal your dreams.

I hit a wall yesterday. And not with my car. My fatigue caught up with me and I broke down.  It wasn’t really physical fatigue — I’ve been physically tired for a long, long time. It was mental fatigue.  All the long hours and all the stress came crashing down at once.  And I paid for it this morning.

I’m in the same boat as a lot of Americans. The Great Recession has radically changed my life.  Now I’ll admit that I’m thankful; it has been mostly for the better. But the stress brought on by that change has caused lots of bad side effects. (Acid reflux being one of the worst.) Yesterday was a particularly stressful day for me.  I got moved up a group in my workout where I struggled.  My first job was particularly bleak.  At my second, I covered the State of the State (something I had never done before but went well.)  After a 15-hour day, I met my wife in a parking lot and took the kids home. She got a well-deserved night away and I got the boys fed and ready for bed.  By the time I sat down to watch a few minutes of the State of the Union, I was exhausted physically and mentally. I felt defeated.  Totally and completely defeated.  I hit the wall and melted down.

I woke up this morning still in my work clothes. The clock read ten minutes until my workout started.  I had not set the alarm.

Since I don’t own a Star Trek Transporter, I knew I’d miss the workout. So I laced up my running shoes and hit the hills of my neighborhood hard. I ran a strenuous (and at times painful thanks to my ankle) four miles.  I pretended I was on the treadmill and would do sprints.  I prayed as I ran and tried to get my mind right in the silence of predawn hours.

I made it to work at a little after six, ready to do it all after again. I’ll get home a little before seven tonight.  I’ll wake up at 3:45 tomorrow morning and do it all again.  Fatigue caused me to fall off the treadmill of life.  Now I’m crawling back on.

Fatigue is a thief who’ll pilfer your hopes and steal your dreams.  By becoming physically stronger, I’ll be able to keep the thief at bay.

Posted in Fat-Fit-Fat, Writing | 4 Comments

Wednesday Free-For-All

Good morning! Have a great day!

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The Donut

The sun broke the horizon, painting the brown brick buildings with hues of pink and orange.  The small Southern city was coming alive dressed with spectacular beauty.

On a wooden bench outside of a downtown donut shop, an old man sat bundled against the cold.  He smoked the remainder of a butt of a cigarette he had found an hour earlier.  A puff, a cough and he flicked it aside.  He never quite understood the appeal of smoking.  It was a habit. A filthy one at that.

A pigeon landed next to him and if anyone had been watching, they would have sworn the man and bird were having a conversation. The old man stuck his hand in his coat pocket and threw seed onto the ground. The pigeon gobbled it up greedily.  “All God’s creatures,” the man said as he wiped his hands off.

The sun continued to rise, chasing the shadows deep into the alleys. The old man exhaled, watching his breath evaporate in front of him. He felt his prickly gray beard and then rubbed his head.  He had never felt more alive.

A man in an overcoat hustled past, avoiding eye contact at all cost.  The old man smiled.  “Have a nice day, sir.”  The man quickly turned right into the tall skyscraper.  Two ladies walked past, also avoiding contact. The old man grinned yet again.  “Have a nice day ladies.” An older man in a suit hurried past and muttered, “Get a job.”  The old man just smiled, rubbed his beard and tipped his hat.

The scene was repeated over and over again.  The old man never allowed the rejections to dampen his spirits. For this was a day given to him by the Lord.

A middle-aged woman approached him and when he made eye contact with her, she did not look away. “Mornin’ ma’am.” he said.

“Good morning, sir,” she replied. “You hungry?  I’m buying a donut this morning and would be more than glad to share. I’m blessed to be able to buy food for myself. Why not spread the blessings?  Oh, and how ’bout a coffee? How do you like it?”

The old man smiled, “Yes, ma’am, I’m hungry. I appreciate your generosity.  I’d like my coffee black, please.”

“Great,” she said. “Just wait here.”

She came back out of the donut shop and sat down next to him. “I hope you like Jelly. It’s my favorite.  They’re really heavenly, you know.”

The old man smiled, took a bite of the donut and a sip of the steaming hot coffee. The warmth traveled down his windpipe and into his soul.

The lady looked him in the eye and said, “Have a blessed day.”  He smiled and said, “I know you will.”

She was puzzled as she stood up because she had no idea what he was talking about.  As she walked away, he grinned and saluted her while holding his cup.  He wiped his chin and enjoyed the rest of his donut, watching other people hustle past.

The old man then finished his coffee, got up and stretched.  He slowly walked around the corner to find the Devil waiting there with his hands on his hips.

“I told you I’d find someone who would stop. Not all humanity is bad.  At least not yet.”

The Devil scoffed and said, “I’ll show you next time. Let’s go somewhere like Congress or something.”

God laughed at the Devil’s joke and his defeat. And then both disappeared as the rising sun lit the alley.

Posted in Writing | 5 Comments

Fit-to-fat-to-fit Blog: Day 9

Goal weight: 195

Let’s forget weight for a moment: Last night I took off a pair of size 40 jeans (a Christmas present from my wife).  Big deal you say?  I took them off without unbuttoning or unzipping them. I’ve lost enough off my mid-section in a little over two weeks that my pants literarily fall off me.  Sorry Charlie, that’s winning.

You’re wondering, how’s the ankle? Thanks to ice and ibuprofen, my ankle held up this morning. Only a few times did it feel like someone was jabbing a screwdriver into it. That’s a big improvement from last Friday.

I was moved up a group. And let’s just say I did nothing today to impress them with my physical fitness. I did poorly on the towel exercise this morning (pushing a folded towel the length of a basketball court and back three times). To put it simply, I sucked. So you will have to excuse me — My own pride is kicking my butt this morning.   I have a lot of work to do.

Which comes to why I am doing this. Obviously I need to get in better shape. For my family. For me. Like Speaker Gunn, I, too, was 40 when I had my last child. He’s four now and he needs his dad to have enough energy to play with him.  My 11-year-old and my 9-year-old need me, too.  As amazing as their mom is (and she is amazing), they need an energetic dad.  I haven’t been that guy lately.

My job changed over a year ago. A career I thought was set in concrete was busted apart, leaving me to figure out a new career path.  I now work two jobs for over 12 hours a day.  I’m exhausted.– And emotionally wrung out.  Both led me to bad choices like not exercising and drinking Cokes for cheap energy.  As tired as I am right now (I now pull 14-hour days), this is an exercise in mental toughness for me.  2012 will be a year of great chance for me and I want to attack it with a positive attitude and great energy.

Pushing a towel and dying on a treadmill is a way to build that toughness.  And judging from my performance, I have a lot of work to do until March.  But I’ve beat cancer. I’ve ridden a bike over a mountain in Vermont. I’ve run a marathon. I’ve nearly won the Pulitzer prize after being a high school  janitor.  I can do this.  I can win.

Posted in Fat-Fit-Fat, Writing | 5 Comments

Tuesday Free-For-All

It’s 3:41 am. Hope you have a great day.

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BERT CASE

WLBT anchor/reporter Bert Case is nothing short of a local legend. Friday’s capture of a Madison County fugitive makes him even more so.  But it wasn’t the first time he captured a wanted man:

Posted in Cartoon | 3 Comments

Late

Hundreds of taillights clogged the interstate for as far as he could see. Jim Kinney fought the urge to honk his horn – like that would have done any good.  Instead, he was like a roast in a Crockpot — he slowly stewed in his car.  Oh, he knew he’d be late again.  And this time, it wasn’t his fault.

Another fool behind him honked his car’s horn.  Everyone around him swung their heads in anger.  The man meekly shrugged his shoulders as if to say, “Sorry.”

How could it get any worse?

The man knew he shouldn’t have prayed for patience because God was giving him an opportunity to learn some.  He heard his watch ticking.  Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.  A quick flick of the switch on the car radio turned on the morning drive-time radio host.  “There’s a wreck at exit 102.  May be a fatality but the interstate is shut down and traffic is backed up for miles.”  Something inside of Jim snapped.

“#$%#$%#$%#$%#$%#$%#$%#@#$@#$@%^#%^!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

A lone man screamed obscenities at the top of his lungs while trapped in his stuck car. No one heard him. No one cared.

How could it get any worse?

After wiping the spit off his steering wheel from his screaming fit, he looked over at the blond, forty-something lady chewing on her fingernails.  A twenty-something texted to his right (probably is what caused the wreck in the first place.).  Two men got out of their cars and tried to look ahead.  He lifted his watch to his face again.

He was so fired.  He just knew it.  His company was looking for reasons to get rid of employees.  His life was over.

How could it get any worse?

Four ambulances drove down the emergency lane. It must be bad.

The coffee he drank started to make itself known.  How he’d kill for a bathroom right now.  He squeezed his legs together and yet again looked at his watch.

How could it get any worse?

Traffic started moving again. Slowly at first. Obviously people up ahead where trying to merge down into one lane.  He patiently eased his car forward, trying not to get into wreck himself.

As he got in sight of the wreck itself, his phone went off. It was his wife, hysterical, saying something he could not understand.

“Calm down, honey. I can’t understand you.”

“Michael! Wreck! Hurt!” she gasped as she cried.

And right as Jim Kinney passed the wreck (there were four cars in all), he saw a familiar car crumpled. He then noticed one of the injured people being loaded into the ambulance.  His stomach sank to his toes: It was his son Michael.

It had gotten worse.

He quickly pulled over to the side of the interstate and ran to the ambulance. His son was bloodied, but awake.  “Dad?”

“I’m here, Michael. I’m here.”

He called a friend to get his car, handed its keys to the officer.  He then said to the paramedic, “I’m his father!”  and climbed into the ambulance.  “I’m here for you son. It’s going to be OK.”

At that moment, he didn’t care about being late to work. He didn’t care about being stuck in traffic. He forgot that he had to pee. He was just glad he could be there with his son, holding his hand in at this time of need.

And then he looked at his boy’s battered face and thought, “Thank goodness I was late.”

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Fit-to-Fat-to-Fit Blog: Choices

Goal Weight: 195

Starting Weight: 245

Present Weight: 229.6 lbs.

Exercised on my ankle today. It survived but is sore now.  I currently have it elevated and iced.

A funny thing is happening now that I am getting back to shape. Food I used to love (and crave) no longer appeal to me.  A raspberry danish was as close to nirvana as I could get.  We had one in the house for my parents and honestly, I didn’t want any.  I walk past the little refrigerator at work full of Coca-Colas and I don’t want any of them either.  It’s all about choices.  And I’m trying to make some better choices.  We went out to eat Saturday and I ate a low-fat, low-calorie chicken dish. It was filling and delicious.    Will I occasionally eat something I probably shouldn’t? Yes.  But I’ll eat it in moderation (if at all).  The thought of a Coke right now makes my pancreas scream for mercy. Too much sugar.

It’s about energy.  I need to make sure I eat complex carbohydrates and protein. Not white sugar that will give me a rush and then crash me.

Now to go find an apple instead of a danish. It’s time to go make a good choice.

Posted in Fat-Fit-Fat, Writing | 3 Comments

Monday Free-For-All

Good morning! Have a great week.

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