Leading By Bad Example

Years ago now, when I lived in Culver City which is not Los Angeles and shouldn’t be considered as such, I worked at a Casting Services studio for a short stint.  Very cool slice of entertainment, it was a multi-room casting studio that ran auditions for commercials both small and Majorly McMajor Light.  Every now and then there’d be a call for a photo shoot, models… I mean, like… MAAHDULLLZ… would be in there and holy crap, there’s a different level of genetic co-mingling than what most of the world has ever seen and it’s all within a 1-hour drive of Santa Monica, CA.

I wasn’t particularly well-trained for the technical side of the studio.  There were a few things I could do, but for the most part what I found was that I didn’t have the time on the system-in-use to really jockey it into position when needed.  And I wanted to know that stuff because it makes ya look like a rock star when your boss needs a salad and you deliver a rolling buffet.  On this particular day I may have pulled together a fruit leather-like effort.  Mostly because, like I said, I was poorly prepared.

That day I was asked to consolidate 3 auditions from 3 actors from 3 sessions of 3 products.  Which means they were in different files on the computers, IF the sessions had all been sent to the common server.  That shouldn’t be difficult, because I know how to file and name and organize documents and resources in a technical format for logical recall and search purposes.  But sweet chocolate Moses, these were spread out ever’where.

And of COURSE there’s a deadline in an hour.  And of COURSE the person who wants it gave very little direction as to where it was to be delivered.  And naturally, this is for 2 of the biggest accounts the casting director (who heavily influences the client/advertiser) handles.  So yeah, there’s some sweat, but as I sat down I was like HELLS YEAH LET’S FIND THESE PEOPLE AND THESE BACKFLIPS AND ACTING LIKE DRINKING A BEER ON A SNOWMOBILE IS SECOND NATURE… and hand this to them at The Ivy in 72min.

No. Fucking. Chance.  Impossible.  The program I was using was capable of doing that.  I wasn’t able to wrangle it to do so, however.   I called everybody I could.  The guys who created the system (who later I worked for and they are the coolest guys and I hope they stay on their up-trend, because those guys are on the casting frontier), not available as they were probably supporting another client.  The guy who normally ran tech, unavailable, possibly stoned or in urgent care at that time, not very healthy for a 22 year-old.  The other in-studio experts, all unavailable and off-site doing other stuff.  So I’m on a deflating raft and bailing water with one hand and rowing towards shore with the other.

And here’s what didn’t help that day.  One person in particular who had absolutely nothing better to do than run in and out of the studio I was in, asking “IS IT DONE?  IS IT DONE?  COME ON MAN, THIS IS IMPORTANT!”  No.  No.  I know.  If you’re not adding, you’re a subtraction.

I remember thinking how little I respected that guy that day.  He was the Manager, and he did not have to save my ass, but what he missed was this crucial point to performing under pressure:  Had he made the urgent call to get the issue handled by somebody who really knew what was going on, not only would the job get done… HE’D BE DOING HIS JOB AS WELL AS MAKING HIS BOSS LOOK LIKE A PROFESSIONAL.

Instead he took almost a bit of joy in watching me sweat through my shirt while coming in every 7minutes to complain and moan for the completion of the task.  Eventually one of the real experts came by for a free beer in the comp’ny fridge and popped in to take over.  Turns out one of the files wasn’t loaded to the server so I couldn’t find it anyway.  And another session I needed was misnamed so it took him another 15min to find it.

It ain’t like I was SEAL-ing a mission and saving lives, I was just trying to make sure 3 actors got another look for a break in a commercial for processed cheese.  But I learned that if you’re gonna lead, there are some things that are so important you just have to do them yourself.  You can teach while you do it, but if you can’t teach while you do it, you can’t scold the student for not knowing more than the teacher.

Plus, that guy was an asshole.

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The Ray/Lee Files VIII: IT’S NOT A COINCIDENCE

In the past at my first blog “What You Are Laughing At” I had begun to chronicle the criminal histories of people, usually men, with the middle names of RAY or LEE.  We know many of their middle names due to the media making DAMN sure they identify the correct person, and not ruin the life of some poor John Gacy; Competitive Candy Artist.

For your consideration:

“The 55-year-old Renee Ray Curtiss will be sentenced April 24 in for the 1978 killing of Joseph Tarricone at a home near Puyallup.”

“Lonnie Lee Johnson was freed Monday after spending more than 1 1/2 years behind bars. He was accused of stabbing to death Jessie Drungo, 23, in a Kent parking lot during a scuffle that may have had racial overtones.”

“King County prosecutors expect to file a murder charge by Thursday against Deon Lee Fillmore, 21, said spokesman Dan Donohoe. Meanwhile, a judge has ordered Fillmore held in King County Jail on $1 million bail.”

Still not on board…
Okay S-finger…

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Moving on…
I’m not sure if it’s the brevity of the name, or perhaps the fact that people with those names may very well have been named and raised by mono-syllabic-preferring parent(s)… but more than any other middle names in society I would bet a Coors Light Dirty 30 on Lee or Ray being more correlated to violent crimes than any other two names.

Let’s not forget the Arizona freakshow shooter, Jared Lee Loughner.

And it’s happened again.

This nightmare ended today with the safe return of a kidnapped 5 year-old boy.  He was kidnapped off a schoolbus last week in Alabama by a gun-wielding psycho…
“He is doing fine,” Richardson told reporters at a late-night news conference. “He’s laughing, joking, playing, eating.”

Dale County Sheriff Wally Olson had no new details about Ethan’s rescue, and when asked if the boy saw his abductor, 65-year-old Jimmy Lee Dykes, killed during the rescue operation, Olson replied, “He’s a very special child. He’s been through a lot, he’s endured a lot.”
Crazy dude with a gun and anti-government views.  Nut with a gun threatening children’s lives, HE HAD RUN HIS COURSE AND ARRANGED A VERY EXPENSIVE SUICIDE.  

Next up, the story of Chris Kyle’s death, one of the most-decorated snipers in US Military history. (from Yahoo.com’s The Lookout)
“I would love for people to be able to think of me as a guy who stood up for what he believed in and helped make a difference for the vets,” he told the Texan News Service. “You know, somebody who cared so much about them that he wanted them taken care of.”

That mission was tragically cut short on Saturday when Kyle and another man were killed at a gun range in Central Texas. Police said former Marine Eddie Ray Routh, 25, shot the men, who reportedly were spending the day with Routh in an effort to help with his post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD).”

Two sad stories, one with a happy ending.
So if you know anybody with the middle name of Ray or Lee, just do the right thing and call the cops on ’em.

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Everybody’s The Smartest Dumbass, Dumbass

The internet is not just a giant suckhole of your time, sanity, and sanctity, it’s also where dipshits, tardloads, and the occasional thick-skulled seat-sniffer volleys a shot at your intelligence from their dandruff and sebum-grouted keyboard.  Everybody’s a tough guy until they get punched in the mouth.  That’s why they never show their mouth.  You can’t punch an internet tough-guy (a.k.a. “keyboard warrior”) in the mouth because theirs is full of a brain-frying energy drink and microwaved snacks.

A few months ago there was a “highlight” circulating of a high-school football scrimmage, wherein a running back takes a pitch-out around right-end and heads up-field.  He makes a “spectacular flip” over a defender and heads for the end-zone. I saw it and thought right away how the back made a full spin in the backfield (takes eyes off defense), the defense seemed really soft, the blocker falls down, and the safety from the middle of the field doesn’t even try to tackle the kid.  It looked staged.

Why stage it?  Hell if I know.  But it looked staged to me.  And I said as much in the comments.  And wow, did the dipshits come out of the basement jerk-closets!

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My name, GLRules is there.  My comment at the top.  I had 12 thumbs-downers, so a dozen people thought I was a complete asspipe.  Fine.
Then an anonymous user misspells “obviously” while making an assumption about my football-playing past.  He’s wrong. I did play football, I study it, I love it.

Then “ManU” chimes in stating that it’s a scrimmage so OF COURSE nobody’s trying… except the kid risking knee ligaments to flip over somebody, while the scrimmage just HAPPENED TO BE CAPTURED ON VIDEO BY SOMEBODY?! Which most coaches would rather you NOT F*CKING DO. Plus, ManU is the moniker of a popular British Soccer squad, so their knowledge of full-out sporting is suspect.

Isn’t my primary comment my way of tossing my TapouT hat into the “Ring of Tards”?  Sure.  I know it may get comments and those comments may be from idiots.  But when you call it out, and it’s faked, and people defend it, and 2 weeks later it’s A COMMERCIAL FOR A WIRELESS CARRIER… then yeah… you get to walk out of the tard ring knowing that you weren’t crapping on some kid’s dream of being a getting a full-ride Parkour scholarship.  So what do you do in that case?

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Ya just keep throwing.

Never let dipshits get the better of ya.

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Putting the NO in Technology

Technology has now officially slowed me down.  Or regulated itself to the point that life is back to the way it was before technology got to helpin’ out.  It’s only as good as its connectivity.

See, I tried to call in a refill for a prescription.  Line was busy, try on-line. 3min
Go on-line, website says I need to register for a new account.  2min
Register for a new account.  Email’s taken.  Must have signed up before?  3min
Need a password reset.  Password sent to email address.  3min
Now I need to log in to that email account for a password I wouldn’t need if the line wasn’t busy. 2min
And reset the password.  2min
And log in.  1min
And fill out the Rx info.  3min
3+2+3+3+2+2+1+3 = 19 minutes

Drop off Rx at counter of place by my house = 6min.

It is exactly this type of technology that will drive us right back to talking to each other face-to-face, and then WHAT KINDA WORLD WILL IT BE???

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Strideline Socks Are The Real

During Sunday’s Seahawks-Falcons tilt, Marshawn Lynch was busting through Falcs in a pair of these boss footjackets.  Footjackets are what I call “socks.” 

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Strideline was started by a couple o’ youngsters in the Seattle area, bringing major city skylines to our anklecoats.  Anklecoats are what I call “footjackets.”  The one city they don’t really skyline is Los Angeles, because it doesn’t have a skyline because it’s full of smog and the world’s finest narcissism and weirdos and bad drivers and a horrible mayor and asynchronous traffic signals. 

I’m all-in with these dudes.  I don’t see a decent pair of Dawgsox yet (Purple and Gold) but I’m buying some pairs and wearing them to the gym in my work’em-outs. 

Get what you gotta get NOW before the NBA steals this idea and gets their asses sued.

 

 

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Make Time to Take Time

Hey 7 people reading this…

Thank you, first of all, for taking time to read what’s here.  My life is so busy lately that the thought of reading, of letting my brain recognize and associate meaning to letter combos, or “WORDS,” seems a task far beyond my schedule.  Between work, family, a new-found appreciation for nutrient-based fitness success, and Christmas Time, this blog has been neglected.

I also perform stand-up comedy as a “second career,” though not enough to sustain a household.  No, that level of success requires a dichotomous acceptance that in order to be the breadwinner of the family, one must almost never be near one’s family for more than 3 days.  The work of stand-up comedy is everything off-stage; travel, radio, travel, waiting, walking around a new city before the show, napping, “writing,” travel, fighting off pneumonia, fighting off boredom-induced alcoholism, and being a spouse and/or parent.  The stage-time is actually a break from everything that fuels the performance.  All that stuff, the travel and the weird smelling hotels and the club-owners who try and cut your money because they sold 15 fewer tickets than they thought they would, and the knee-jerk bitchy reactions of flight attendants and gas station attendants and Marie Callendar’s late-shift servers… it’s part of the gig.  It has nothing to do with ME or YOU, it’s just how that situation happened that time for you because it was your turn to run into the dumped-on attitude of a life-saddened woman in her late-40’s who is trapped between a rock and double-shift on her kid’s birthday weekend.  So fuck you and do you want a roll or soup?

The rest of my life, which is really where Life happens, has been kind of weird.  We, meaning all of us not just my household or family… WE all get a bit of drama from time to time.  Workplace gossip.  Neighborhood police activity.  Diarrhea at work that involves the police.  Legal marijuana.  Same-sex marriages.  Kids getting sick.  Co-worker’s kids getting sick at the same time every Thursday (just before Happy Hour, really Marcia?).
Drama happens.  Shit happens.  And the more I live the more I see that the Happening of Shit is “part of the gig.”

I truly believe this statement, which I thought up a few years ago:
Madness takes root in the absence of solitude, and flourishes in the abundance of it.  

If we don’t take time for ourselves, we’ll lose ourselves to everything else.  We become just part of the scenery instead of allowing ourselves to enjoy it and interact with it.  But if we stay separated for too long from it, if we don’t take time to be part of the rest of the world that is Life and People, and build friendships and actively love each other and our communities, then we float the river to CrazyTown pretty comfortably.

If you’re feeling lonely or alone, call a friend, get a beer, get coffee, go volunteer, see a comedy show, SOMETHING.  Get out of your own head.
And if you’re around people so much that you can’t remember the sound of your own thoughts then get away for at least 24 hours.  No phone, no computer.  Maybe some good movies or audiobooks or a something to let your mind do some traveling without your thoughts mucking up the trip.

As 2012 comes to a close, I hope for myself to progress in all the important areas of my life, even if it’s small steps.  A little less bodyfat, a little more time with my kids, a little closer to a professional certification, a bit more in the retirement accounts, more time with my wife, more time with my friends.  You know…. Make Shit Happen.

Or Shit Will Happen To You.

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Work It Out – Simplifying The Basics

I’m in a weird phase now, having joined a gym and going enough to see results, but not so much as to burn out on the people who go there.  The personalities of gym-goers range from “Aggressively Spray-tanned Wide-Backed Renter” to “Scrumptious Bootypacked Stairstepper” to “WHAT ARE YOU LOOKIN’ AT?” to “Keepin’ Sleek at 60.”  We all go for different reasons, but the underlying goal is to ultimately beat The Reaper at his own game. 

I guess that means killing yourself trying to stay healthy?

Anyway… thanks to some information that piqued my sensors (maybe the 2nd time ever using the word “pique”) from a great site I found, BuffDaddio.com, I started a new lifting protocol.  Mike Mentzer’s HIT (High Intensity Training) simplifies all the Sets x Reps x (WeightLifted*DistanceMoved/TimeUnderTension) + Time Staring At Self In Mirror maze of crapola people wade through.  Mentzer’s workouts are all about applying a mindset of FOCUSED INTENSITY for a short period of time to properly perform basic muscle-busting movements.  You squat 255 perfectly, slowly, for 8 reps and you’ll do more for your body than the guy busting out 315 with bad form and 15 half-reps.  Keep it simple, keep it short, keep it moving.  

I love lifting again.  I’m not as strong as I was 8 years ago when I was in a gym every day pretty much.  But I’m getting there.  And I’ve accepted that I don’t NEED to toss iron the way I did when I was in college, throwing shot-put, or trying to attract girls with daddy issues.  I basically want to drop about 50lbs before next June and see 4 of my abs and have some specific measurements.  How does this all come together?  I HAVE ADD, SO BEAR WITH ME. 

Here’s what I’ve found to be the basic principles of the most-loved and “realistic” fitness regimens.  Bodybuilder, athlete, fat-burner, carb lover, busy dad, busier mom, weight-dropping project manager… these are for all of us.  

  1. What you eat is about 80% of your success.  If you eat really cleanly (lean protein, moderate fat, lots of veggies and fruit, low sugar and carbs), your body gets its energy from your stored bodyfat, which you have (sorry you had to find out here).
  2. Eat Protein.  It repairs your muscles and takes energy to metabolize.  Eat Fat.  It makes you feel full and happy and your brain will love you for it.  Eat veggies and fruit.  Vitamin and antioxidants are all up in those.  If you GOTTA HAVE A COOKIE AND PIE AND ICE CREAM, have a little bit of each, once a week.  Then get right the hell back to the good stuff. 
  3. If you’re gonna lift, lift pretty heavy, and keep the workout short.  Short rests between sets.  Compound exercises are best, like deadlifts, squats, presses, and rows.  Start with those, then do your 20lb kickbacks in the Zumba room.
  4. If you’re gonna do cardio, DO CARDIO.  Get your heart POUNDING, not pumping.  Do some HIIT work.  Warm up for a few minutes, get loose.  Then run/row/pedal/elliptical about 90% effort for 15seconds, higher tension or speed or incline.  Then ratchet it down for 45seconds, like you’re on a stroll.  Repeat that cycle about 8-10 times.  Cool down a few minutes.  Boom.  15min of cardio twice a week, and your fat’ll be burning.
  5. Move a little bit every day.  Walk around, stretch, be purposely active.  Especially if you’re sore.
  6. Get as much sleep as you can.  It helps your hormones regulate, weightloss, recovery, and you’re not a complete turd to be around.
  7. Quit stressin’.  Life’s too short.  Exercise to live better and healthier.  If you put in 3 hours of exercise a week, that’s 156 hours a year, or about 6.5 days each year.  If those 6.5 days/year meant that you had another 12 months of great health later in life, would you trade that time in? 

6.5 days of effort = 365 more days of health, love, family, and friends?

Yeah, I’ll take that trade.  Still gonna work to see my gawddamn abs.

To your health!

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Judge Not, Lest… Okay, Ye Judge Me

I judge parents based on the behavior of their child/ren THERE I SAID IT.  Feels good to finally log that one in a place nobody ever sees… 

Oh… 400 readers last week… Okay…

Judging other parents based on their child’s behavior, I am sorry I even invented it.  I feel like such a cornlog for bringing it up.  I do, I judge parents.  I judge them rarely on what their kid is wearing unless the kid’s naked in the mall or it’s a girl dressed like a girl dressed like a 21 year-old pageant contestant.  Behavior says a lot about the kid’s environment.  Heck, my youngest son isn’t walking yet at 1 year-plus-2-days, and I feel like a failure as a sprint coach.  I judge myself most harshly.

I’m sure nobody has judged me, however.  Other parents usually are so very focused on their kid(s) to ever stop and discuss why my son yells “YOU ARE NOT NICE” to kids who take things he was playing with.  It’s taken forever to get him to tone it down to that, once we stopped the eye-gouging and F-bombs.  And to think that if somebody were to take something of yours in adult life you are moderately within your rights to push them to the ground and reclaim your Nook, pushing your glasses up on your nose with a “GOOD DAY, MADAM.”  So knowing I am not being judged makes this even harder to admit to you 5 (over the course of a month) readers.

It’s hard enough raising one kid.  Two adults here, and we were finally into a rhythm after 2 years with ONE.  Then the little guy came along and holy crap, life is 1.6-times more involved.  Not twice as hard, because sniffles and diarrhea aren’t as panic-inducing as with kiddo #1.  But when I see parents with one kid who have decided “Yeah, that’s enough,” I’m somewhat envious of the ease of schedule.  While things are 1.67-times more complex with 2 kids, it’s also upwards of 50 times more awesome to see little kid-brothers play together and laugh together.  It makes my wife’s 49 consolidated hours of labor and extra monthly medical premiums entirely worth it.  So when other people say we have good kids or happy boys, I take that with pride, but also wondering HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN JUDGING MY CHILDREN, you horrific monster?

Parenting brings out the Real You.  It demands something of you that LIFE may have tried to extract, and now that LIFE is in diapers and hungry and Mom’s tuned into the TV and dad’s beer buzz just kicked in.

Or Mom’s scrambling to get that bottle going because dad had to pick up another shift to make some extra cash and mom’s just worn out but another hour and this kid will be sound asleep.  All that kid knows is connection and attention and affection.  All mom and dad know is Take Care Of This Baby!  Love This Baby!

Sorry parents, I don’t mean to judge you.  Most of the time it’s just kids being kids and those kids are pretty awesome.  But the 12 year old in the toddler play area, well, you’re a shitty, inattentive parent whose iPhone5 should be crammed up your ass the wide-and-flat way.  Instagram that. 

Case closed.

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Comment Please

It’s a basic human right that if you have the ability to express yourself, you should be able to express yourself without fear of tyrannical, violent downforce, be it Governmental, Societal, or Cee-Lo.  For real, tho.  However, a growing number of people in society have confused “Right To Speak” with “Cannot Be Judged,” and “Should Not Be Reprimanded Whatsoever.”  These people are either immature, overly-self-empowered, or a high-functioning mentally handicapped (MH) person.  Many of them are probably still in High School, or (insert enemy political party here).

If you want to see what our society really feels, just go to any news story online that allows comments, make sure the story is about politics or has a person of an ethnicity that isn’t WASPy, and have a field day.  Stopping short of using the “N-word” doesn’t show a person is intelligent and well-mannered; it only shows they WANNA USE IT, but aren’t sure if anybody’s got their back.  In the previous paragraph I held back from saying “Retard” because that does offend some people, although I think you can call other people “retarded” if you have a diagnosed (and somewhat obvious) form of what was once referred to as “retardation.”  I would say it’s funnier for a MH to call somebody a “retard,” though not as call as when Daquan calls you “his N-word.”  If he called you his “retard,” that’s a bit much, unless Daquan himself is MH’ed, then he’s probably racist.

So when those comments are posted, or the comments people post on that Instagram picture of your first attempt at rose water-infused, gluten-free competitive cheesecake, make you feel like, golly, you could just rip the fucker’s face off and powershit into their now-lipless mouth-hole, WHAT CAN YOU DO?

  1. Call ’em out.  Fight back a little and defend yourself.  Don’t get defensive, just state your case.  Let their names be known, if you can.  Anonymity is the One Ring That Binds internet comment trolls.
  2. Ignore it.  Lots of trolls out there, who are just trying to start crap and truly have nothing better to do than try and start internet fights.  They breathe in life from making a point of taking time to crap on whatever they can find to crap on.  They have very little originality to offer.  It happens, shrug it off.
  3. Go all-out and get in the fray.  Fire off every word you can think of for every negative comment and let people know you are NOT messing around on your comments section.
  4. Pick Your Battles.  Not everything is worth going to the mat for.  Know what’s off-limits, and let people know, and if they don’t censor themselves, see #3.  Remember the first person to use CAPS LOCK in their reply, loses.

Instead of shrugging off everything, mix it up.  Keep people guessing.  Ignoring stuff is the ultimate self-empowerment.  Some folks, however, do it in real life and that’s inexcusable.  I’ll address how to handle public judgment of others in a future post.  Save yourself the hassle and just buy a boat horn right now, though.

Just remember… fighting on the internet is like being in the Special Olympics…
Find me on Twitter; @glottrules

http://www.geofflottrules.com

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Work It Out – Chest/Shoulders/Triceps

I work out.

Look at that body. 

I know, you can’t tell.  But I do.  I work out.  I am a major advocate of Bodyweight exercises for all forms of fitness, from cardio (Tabata protocols, sprints, plyometrics) to buffing up (Turbulence Training free e-book, this guy’s awesome, Craig Ballantyne).  Keep it short and intense. 
(that’s what SHE said…)

So yesterday I hit the weights a little.  I haven’t done so in about a week.  Really found myself stronger than I was before, and got through a 15min workout just by staying in the groove and not lollygagging around.  I also started doing “Tri-Sets” where you warm-up… You DO warm-up, right?… with a few high-rep sets of light weight and get the joints loose.  Then you pick an area and do 3 consecutive sets (no rest) with 3 different exercises (2min rest at end of circuit).  Here’s what I did yesterday for Chest/Shoulders/Triceps.

Chest,
Incline Press – 135lbs; 12 reps, 10 reps, 8 Reps,
Push-ups – 20, 18, 15
Dips – 7, 5, 5

Shoulders:
Overhead Machine Press – 115lbs; 10, 8, 8
Rev-Grip PullDowns – 115lbs;, 8,8,8
Lateral Raises – 25lbs; 10, 8, 8

Triceps:
Close-grip PushDowns – 75lbs; 10, 8, 8
Kickbacks – 25lbs; 8,8,8
Overhead Extensions – 20lbs; 12, 12, 12

So my upper boddah is sore sore sore today but in that good “HOLY CRAP MY BODY HURTS” kind of way.  The weights weren’t as important to me as the form and “intensity” of the workout, getting through each rep and cycle with maximum burn.  Mission accomplished.

I typed this with a pencil in my painfully curled hand.

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