Twenty-One Miles Run and Done

 

Rose Bowl courtesy of Pasadena City College

Down in the arroyo where the Rose Bowl sits it was a southern California cold morning—41 degrees. I wished I'd brought gloves. Very nervous over whether I'd finish today. My chi running form was off. My feet burned from prior long runs and body parts hurt which shouldn't have.

Since I'd be running over rocky terrain, I waited until the dawn's early light arrived. As in times past, I focused on breaking the run into segments: six miles south, down and back to my starting point, along the Arroyo Seco Channel—a fancy name for a concrete flood control canal. Then a three mile loop around the Rose Bowl. Then two miles down and back to the south. 

After topping up my water belt bottles, it was north for five miles of mostly uphill running. Past the Devil's Gate Reservoir, past JPL, up into the Angeles National Forest. I encountered old Team in Training pal CJ bounding south along the trail. We chit-chatted briefly, then I pushed on to the Elmer Smith Bridge. From there it was five mostly downhill miles back to my Rose Bowl Lot K starting point.

Devil's Gate Reservoir courtesy of KCET

Adjustments to my chi running form really helped. But as my feet have grown with age, I found my shoes weren't large enough to handle foot expansion. This resulted in bruised toenails and, later, an emergency purchase of larger shoes. Also, the GU gel replenishing my glycogen tastes very treacly after a time. Gummi bears didn't seem as effective as back-in-the-day when I trained for the Phoenix Marathon. I need to quickly revamp my road menu. Two more long runs remain for assorted testing purposes.

Boy, did I ache the rest of the day. I'd forgotten about ice baths. Twenty-one miles marks the longest training run since a pair of 22 milers logged while preparing for the 2008 Eugene Marathon.

So now the Surfers Point Marathon seems real. My goal has been adjusted to five hours and thirty minutes. I've acquired a hotel room and need to wrap up a few more athletic loose ends. But after thirteen years, it seems I'll finally get a crack at another 26.2.

Ricky and Morty Began Somewhere

 

Comic Ryan George investigates the genesis of a popular animated TV series.

Screen Rant

Adam Carolla's Roommate Greta Thunberg

 Adam plays straight man to a great Greta Thunberg impersonation.

Adam Carolla

Twenty Mile Run Tomorrow

Medical Island

 

This will decide whether or not I tackle 26.2 next month. My chi running form—good enough for 3 and 4 mile runs—tends to fall apart at longer distances. I've been focusing on my form, but there may not be enough time left before race day. So I'll proceed as long as I safely can. If it feels like Mr. Injury has again come a'calling, then I'll cut it short, eat my entry fee, and work on my form. It'll take a bit longer than anticipated, but I'm finishing another marathon. 

I contemplated my first 20 mile run a mere 15 years ago.

Failure as a Growth Step

 After mewling in my last post, I found this video by Dr. Alan Goldberg. Good advice on how to deal with setbacks. I intend to follow his worthy counsel.

 

Competitive Advantage

Awful Training Run

wallpapercave.com

A sub-par 18 mile run yesterday. I made rookie mistake in hydrating, energy, pace, you name it. I spent the day depressed. If certain issues with my running shoes aren't resolved, I'll need to push back my marathon. A mess, I tell you.

Surfer's Point Marathon Update

 

Yes, November 7th, a Sunday, will see me once again attempt to master 26.2 miles. For the last 12 years I've been searching for a method of running that didn't cause me knee pain. If you have time, peek at this, or this, or this, or this, or this or this. My orthopedist tried talking me out of ever trying to run again. But I knew better. Such high hopes I had. I assumed I'd be knocking out another marathon sometime in 2010.

Today I'm into my longest runs. This Wednesday, I'll run 16. Then the following weeks will see long runs of 18, 13.1, 20, 10, 8, some speed work, then the marathon. I'll know my goal time more exactly after my half-marathon run. Right now it appears a finishing time of five hours and eleven minutes is doable. It's exciting. I'd forgotten so much. Like nipple guards. 

More soon. 

So Long, Norm Macdonald

 This guy made me laugh. I'm sorry to see him go so soon. Below is a clip from a longer piece on how Norm would approach the job of being a serial killer.

CureofQuarantine

9/11 Recalled 2021

 

K called from Florida, "Planes crashed into the World Trade Center and one of the towers just fell." Unemployed in Los Angeles and half asleep at 7:30 AM, I shuffled downstairs to the TV, past Joy as she prepared for work. At first, all I saw was a dirty cloud obscuring southern Manhattan. Then a stunned announcer said the second tower had just collapsed. Joy joined me, work forgotten as we learned of the attack.

Other friends phoned throughout the day. Paul Rugg speculated about the pilots of the doomed aircraft, certain they weren't Americans forced to crash. TJ, a Vietnam vet, was incensed at the footage of jubilant Palestinians with their candy and AK-47s. He wished he could gift them with a nice buttering of napalm. In a grim mood, I agreed.

Watching TV and power-chewing Nicorette, I mostly felt numb — except when the subject was jumpers. Then I felt horror. Go to work, sip coffee, joke with your pals, then decide whether you'll suffocate, burn alive, or leap a quarter mile to certain death. Questions of etiquette arise: jump solo or hold hands with a co-worker? Perhaps several of you link arms and form a chain, finding courage in numbers. Or do you clutch a table cloth and step into the air, desperately hoping it slows your fall?



The journey takes ten seconds.


Air velocity rips away your shoes.


You explode on impact.


I will always be haunted by the jumpers of 9/11.


Oceans of paper were blasted from the towers, filling the New York sky like the Devil's ticker tape. Invoices and wedding invitations floated down to gray sidewalks.

My friend Cathy, who worked in D.C., reported chaos as the government sent everyone home at once following the Pentagon attack. One jammed intersection turned scary as a man leaped out of an SUV brandishing a pistol and attempting to direct traffic.

Being murdered is not a heroic act, though it can be. Flight 93 passengers fought back and died, saving many more in their sacrifice. North Tower Port Authority employees rescued over 70 people before perishing.


There were many heroes that day.

My sister Mary Pat and I had dinner at a coffee shop. She was passing through town, leaving a job in Mountain View, CA to return to Phoenix. Depressed by the day's events, our meal was not jolly.

Later, Joy tried to give blood, but the hospital was overwhelmed with donations and refused.

Vulnerability, grief, dismay, anger.

Such a beautiful morning with a sky so blue.

(Photos from: Little Green Footballs.)

Repost: Sept. 11, 2008

Update: Strange to reread this. TJ died in 2009 and K passed away just over a year ago. My wife, Joy, and I are doing well, as is Paul Rugg who now rides the train. 

Repost: Sept. 11, 2013

Update: I had cancer surgery last year, but recovered. My wife is doing well and my sister battles her own health woes. I have not heard from my friend Cathy in a few years.  Paul Rugg continues riding the train in addition to being a voice over machine.

Repost: Sept. 11, 2015

Update: Paul Rugg's daughter was not quite two years old on 9/11/01. Now she is a freshmen in college. I have retired from TV animation writing, though, as stated elsewhere, I find retirement to be indistinguishable from unemployment. (Save for a small annuity.) And very soon, I shall ride the train to see my sister. (Explanatory post t/k.)

Repost: Sept. 11, 2017

Update: Ten years have passed since I composed this post, 17 years since the incident. Alas, the greatest hit to our nation continues to be a colossal security apparatus that can't seem to function without monitoring everyone's communications, then lying about it. I'd rather not comment on airport theater. Still, my wife remains gainfully employed and I'm racing to complete a dystopian thriller by Christmas. Amidst the great events, the little things carry us forward.

Repost: Sept. 11, 2018

Update: About to publish a softcover version of my prostate book. Meanwhile the Afghanistan Forever War continues. I refuse to believe that for almost 20 years, there's been no better way of fighting the Taliban than sending billions to Pakistan to provide hiding places for them while they infiltrate Afghan government forces and assassinate our advisors. The Byzantine Empire lasted over a thousand years battling multiple enemies on different fronts, employing a combination of diplomacy military prowess, and strategic alliances. With the entrenched, consequence-proof dimwits we have infesting Washington D.C., we'll probably end up surrendering to the Taliban.

Repost: Sept. 11, 2019

Update: How odd to stand on the threshold of twenty years. Given the riots and chaos of the pandemic, the blithering repose of local government re. small-business-killing lockdowns, the event is passing with barely a mention. If I hadn't spotted a NatGeo special on the Twin Towers, I might've forgotten myself. Interesting health issue, with cataract surgery, an upcoming new crown—for a tooth—and the results of a biopsy for skin cancer. Paul Rugg works on a Henson TV show, and his daughter nears the end of her undergrad studies. My sister continues on with NPR in the unburned portion of the Pacific Northwest. I will publish a book of my short stories by Christmas. Joy's work will soon restore her full pay, slashed during the lockdowns. Since South Dakota never locked down at all, shouldn't their population be deader than the Sioux at Wounded Knee? Not all experts are experts.  

Repost: Sept. 11, 2020

Update: 

What I wrote sarcastically in 2019 came true. A devastating mortifying defeat. 

Repost: Sept. 11, 2021

Top Ten Raymond Chandler Quotes from The High Window

 Hard-boiled Noir, huh?

librarything

I'd never read this particular Phillip Marlowe tale, but am enjoying it immensely. Absolutely loaded with fun descriptive Chandlerisms:

1. "She had eyes like strange sins."

2. "Below his eyes . . . there was a wide path of freckles, like a mine field on a war map."

3. The blonde sobbed in a rather theatrical manner and showed me an open mouth twisted with misery and ham acting."

4. "We looked at each other with the clear innocent eyes of a couple of used car salesmen."

5. ". . . and a granite coffee pot that smelled like sacks in a hot barn."

6. " He had a sort of dry musty smell, like a fairly clean Chinaman."

7. "From ten feet away she looked like something made up to be seen from thirty feet away."

8. "My face was stiff with thought, or with something that made my face stiff."

9. "[Net curtains] puckered in and out like the lips of a toothless old man sleeping."

10. "Out of the apartment houses come women who should be young but have faces like stale beer; men with pulled-down hats and quick eyes that look the street over behind the cupped hand that shields the match flame; worn intellectuals with cigarette coughs and no money in the bank; fly cops with granite faces and unwavering eyes; cokies and coke peddlers; people who look like nothing in particular and know it, and once in a while even men that actually go to work. But they come out early when the wide cracked sidewalks are empty and still have dew on them."

brainpickings.org

So Long, Ed Asner

 

Behind the Voice Actors

Sergeant Mike Cosgrove (who also used the name Ed Asner) is gone. Freakazoid's pal and law enforcement chum has cashed out his life chips and departed this plane of existence. 

Ed was fun to work with, bummed cigarettes off the crew, and never seemed thrown by the often surreal dialogue he was called upon to read. I wish his family peace in this troubled time. 

Adieu, Ed and may you know eternal rest involving offbeat wholesome fun.

ZuccoloX

First Double Digit Run in 13 Years

 

finsmes.com

But how? 

You're fat, old and injured!

Excellent points, all. But first a bit of crowing: they said it couldn't be done—running any distance. (At least one orthopedic surgeon uttered as much.) And for a over a decade he appeared right. But last Wednesday, I ran ten miles thanks to chi running and a generous assist from the weather.

Starting near the Pasadena Rose Bowl I loped up into the Angeles National Forest above Jet Propulsion Labs to the fabled Elmer Smith Bridge. The round-trip took me 2:12:03. I employed a modest 3x1 run-walk ratio ala the Jeff Galloway method. 

But Los Angeles is blazing hot in August!

Generally, yes, you're correct. But around 7:30 AM the mercury hovered under 70 degrees. An overcast morning with grayish marine layer, there was also a fine light breeze. I was loaded down with water and Gatorade, Gu gel, and salt tablets. Only my sunglasses proved unnecessary. 

On the last few miles I encountered a thin misting rain. It stopped suddenly as if chided. 

1075

Just like the old days, huh? 

(There's a reason you're a minor heading.) So much to relearn. My feet burned on the last mile, a sign of inadequate shoe padding. The net uphill of the first five miles exposed my training. By contrast, the bridal trails of Griffith Park are mostly flat dirt with gentle rises, not the rolling terrain, patches of rocky ground and abrupt rises of Wednesday's run. Also, I sensed a need for more weekly miles, with emphasis on tempo runs. Increasing mileage can be tricky in the midst of training.

But a corner has been turned. I'm comfortable enough with chi running to cover longer distances. I'm still integrating the run-walk method, but the efforts show promise. In addition, my weight has dropped into the 230s, a plunge of around 30 pounds from January. 

Rummaging around, I found an old pair of trainers that should wear better on the trails until I can buy new distance running shoes. 

 So then: a short three miles today, rest tomorrow, then 12 miles on Wednesday.  

Wickipedia

Another Fine Rout

 

phukettimes

Political commentary isn't my usual forte, but for the second time in my life I watch America scuttle out of a foreign policy disaster. Here are a few scattered thoughts.

America is back . . . to the 70s

In 1975, I was still in the service, stationed on an air base in South Carolina. I recall the veterans around me numbed by the televised chaos as the South Vietnamese struggled to escape their country's fall to North Vietnam. Years later, I visited Vietnam and Cambodia. Speaking to inhabitants, I learned what people endured under the communists.  Awful things. Genocide, for one.

As an interesting comparison, the U.S. congress back in the day cut off all aid to South Vietnam. Lauren Zanolli writes in History News Network: 

"Historians have directly attributed the fall of Saigon in 1975 to the cessation of American aid. Without the necessary funds, South Vietnam found it logistically and financially impossible to defeat the North Vietnamese army. Moreover, the withdrawal of aid encouraged North Vietnam to begin an effective military offensive against South Vietnam. Given the monetary and military investment in Vietnam, former Assistant Secretary of State Richard Armitage compared the American withdrawal to “a pregnant lady, abandoned by her lover to face her fate."

The cash spigot was never turned off in Afghanistan. Including Iraq, AP lists:. 

 

"Estimated amount of direct Afghanistan and Iraq war costs that the United States debt-financed as of 2020: $2 trillion.

Estimated interest costs by 2050: Up to $6.5 trillion."

A Tale of Two Armies

ARVN troops@militaryimages.net

At the very least, the South Vietnamese ARVN (Army of the Republic of Vietnam) went down fighting at Xuan Loc. I recall the battle and the last stand of General Le Minh Dao's 18th Division.

As for the 300k strong Afghan Army, ferocious when it came to shooting their NATO advisors, they forked over their weapons to the Taliban like scolded children handing over firecrackers to the cops. After twenty years of nation building, that is what our gasbag generals, greedy contractors and dim-witted politicians could produce . . . other than assurances that everything was going according to plan.

Now the Fun Starts

The Taliban are already going door to door with kill lists and shooting pilots, interpreters, and anyone else that backed the kleptocrat Ghani. Incidentally, he never struggled to escape. Ghani simply departed ahead of the crowd. Perhaps our fey elites will invite him to Aspen or Davos. With billions siphoned off in American aid the former Afghan president is, no doubt, almost as rich as the late Yasser Arafat—a man who never needed a lesson in fleecing globalist rubes.

Lessons learned?

One gets the impression that our political and military establishment are already reviewing the catastrophe. The failures are clear. They will never be repeated.

The next nation we build will have mandatory Drag Queen Story Hour.

Vromans

Our bright caring elites know what is important.

A Salute to Athletes Who Didn't Quit

I know this subject. 

I know when I've run well and I know when I've listened to that little voice in the back of my head telling me I've done quite enough for the day. It's a moment lasting an instant when you must choose between believing your training or responding to a play-it-safe voice that smothers dreams. 

Training for a marathon in November, I've been battling the quits in hot temperatures. My times, to be frank, suck. But I've continued on as new inspirations emerge.

In Tokyo today . . .

. . . a woman competing in only her third marathon . . . 

. . . in eighty-degree temperatures . . . 

. . . against Kenyans . . . 

. . . became just the third Yank lass to medal since 1984. 

Molly Seidel ran like a champ, pushed the pace, and stayed in the hunt for gold and silver until the very end. At 2:27:46 - only three hours ahead of my fall projected finish time - Bronze Medal Molly displayed the heart that inspires even an elderly, injury-plagued marathoner such as myself.

swimsuits.com

Speaking of grit . . . 

. . . Allyson Felix won her eleventh medal—seventh Gold—in the 4 x 400 meter relay. She surpassed Carl Lewis to become America's top Olympic medalist. Dating back to 1996, Felix has notched her medals in between a difficult childbirth, brutal losses, and, at 35, the hour-glass draining fast on elite speed. Allyson's unquenchable perseverance and mental toughness rated her those eleven trips to the podium.

Atlanta Black Star

As for me . . . 

. . . maybe I'll add another day to my running week. 

Gymstrodamus Wrong?

 A coy oily header. But where might this fellow be incorrect in a world where 60% of locked down U.S. businesses never reopened and Jeff Bezos, Big Phrama and their dear friends in government are swollen with cash like pufferfish? 

American Eric

The Babylon Bee Reimagines John Lennon

 Such a tasty subject, the mocking of communism, yet so few diners. The Babylon Bee examines the fruits of Marxism in this touching parody tune.

The Babylon Bee

Prostate Cancer Real Talk #3

 El and Shay tackle the issue of why Afro-American men are more susceptible to prostate cancer. Doctor Adam B. Murphy joins them in exploring the topic.

Prostate Cancer Real Talk

Manson's Acting Skills Often Overlooked

 My friend Ken sent this along. It's from The old Ben Stiller Show and is a parody of Lassie with a surprise replacement for the collie. Pretty darn good. Ad warning.

suedejones

Xi Jinping's Stand-Up Comedy Act

 When not threatening to vaporize Japan, the President of the Chinese People's Republic likes to stay sharp honing his stand-up comedy chops. Over the years, Xi Jinping has worked up a killer set which he polishes during open-mike nights at various Beijing night spots. Here's a smuggled out sample of Jinping at Club Five-Year Plan riffing on current events.

Now, comrades, the comedy stylings of . . . 

qz.com

"Whoa, thank you. This place is based. I gotta say: this club is almost as much fun as gang-raping a Uighur. You heard me. Yeah. Someone once asked me why I never bring a stool on stage like certain other comics. I told 'em, 'You try sitting with Joe Biden's head up your ass.' Whoa, yeah, you guys are quick. This crowd is sharper than the scalpel at a Falun Gong organ harvesting. Hell, yeah. Someone stop me. I'm a mad man.

What else is happening? Crazy week. Crazy week, isn't it? I met with the leaders of the Taliban. Did you see that? Yeah. I mean we've actually got a few things in common; like watching the United States scamper away in defeat like a little girl—Vietnam, anyone?— and kicking the shit out of Christians. Other than that, the Taliban smell like goats in a cess pool. Whoa. Did I say that? Somebody build a shower in that country. Puh-leeze.

Man, I should've gone to the bathroom before I came up here. I'm leaking worse than the Wuhan Lab. Come on. That was funny. Check your social media scores. This whole club is getting downgraded. That's better. Yuk it up. And don't forget to tip your waitresses. They all dodged forced abortions. Lucky ladies. Wild stuff, huh?

Okay, time to hit the old Belt and Road. And remember, when life hands you lemons, beat a Tibetan with an ax handle. Goodnight, everyone.

Freakazoid Friends at Warner Bros.

L. to R.: Joe Leahy, Jonathan Harris, Paul Rugg, and I

 Rummaging in some old files and scrolled across this photo circa 1997. Note my stylish collarless shirt. I never really thought about moments such as this because I was always looking ahead to the next job. Now I realize my work at Warner Bros. was the most fun I've ever been paid for. Not that my current life isn't fun. But I'm not paid for sitting around—though that is no longer universally true in California. I wonder who took this?

Editing Diversity Pleases Chi Com Censors

 Money talks and the LGBTQ walk as comic Ryan Long exposes Hollywood hypocrisy. 

Ryan Long

Fiction Writing Update and The Social Dilemma

trainerbubble.com

Trapped once more

 I used to update my writing more often. Ah, well. I'll start by reporting that the allure of social media/YouTube is just as addictive as intended. Among other spots, I've described the cloying allure of the Web back in 2017,  in a book revue and in a post complaining about Facebook. Just the morning I woke up late and started zipping around news sites and watching old Soprano videos instead of working. I have a twelve minute grace period. After that, I vanish into the online time-suck. 

And fiction writing? 

One helpful method is to reduce the time I write. Less seems to be more. This will increase in subsequent drafts, but for now my second volume of Hallow Mass inches forward two hours at a time. Depending on the amount of dialogue, that produces between one and four pages. I finish refreshed and less tempted during difficult periods to bolt intoWeb surfing. More updates soon.

BTW:

As mentioned earlier this year, take a look at The Social Dilemma. They really nail the built-in addictive nature of social media, smart phones, etc. 

Also 2018's The Creepy Line. 

Top Ten Google Corporate Quotes

 

logodesignteam.com

(You might say I'm biting the hand that feeds me, but let's see if the big G has a sense of humor.)

Top Ten Google Corporate Quotes

1. Small groups of people can have a really big impact by monitoring your opinions.

2. If you're not doing something crazy, you're not living in San Francisco.

3. If you can't change the world, change the algorithim.

4. Always deliver more than the intelligence agencies ask for. 

5. Have a healthy disregard for differing opinions.

6.  Solving big problems is easier when you sell everyone's information.

7. To many rules stifle James Damore.

8. Our Diversity, Inclusion and Equity policy spells DIE.

9. We're optimistic about technology making the world a better place for the super rich.

10. Do no evil, unless you're helping Communist China.

pngimg.com

Idaho Speaks to New California Residents

 A good press conference parody. Boy, does this guy look like an Idaho governor. 

joeinert

Libertad Cuba!

The commies are shutting down social media. Go Cuba!

Meridiano

Prostate Cancer Real Talk Interviews Author JP Mac

El and Shay Allen want you to know all about prostate cancer. So they interviewed a prostate-less man such as myself. We discuss my book and various subjects of interest to those facing this most common of male cancers. The podcast is 43 minutes in length, but chock full of helpful tips. Give it a listen!

Prostate Cancer Real Talk

Happy July 4 2021

Let that old freedom ring!

rd.com

Yet Another July 4th Run

A pleasant Independence Day to my fellow yanks. As in July 4 weekends past— 2007  2010   2015  2019 — I exercised today, this time at a Rose Bowl 5K. This one's been circled on the calendar since I signed up in March. My time today will be used in planning training runs for an upcoming marathon in November. Yes, I've signed up for the Surfer's Point Marathon out in Ventura. An ocean-front run on a flat course in low temperatures —I'm hoping. While thousands enjoy the LA Marathon, a thousand or less will run two loops to a chorus of breaking surf.

As for today, I slept poorly last night, nervous about the race. I'd trained to break 33 minutes, specifically a goal of 32:59. But I didn't want to leave my bed and the air conditioning. My wife was joining me today and we drove out to the fabled Rose Bowl in Pasadena. One thing about arising early for a run are the spectacular dawns. Alas, my windshield snap doesn't do the sky justice.

So no pre-race goodie bags, technical tee-shirts, and timing mat sensors located in the race bib. All the race volunteers wore pink shirts. A group of assisting ROTC students in mostly forest camo also wore pink shirts. Someone should tell them that pink is a terrible tactical color. Hopefully, its just a fad. 

A group of Arab students from USC stood in a knot laughing and joking as the national anthem played. Of course, the sound system was anemic and many of the surrounding Americans also laughed and joked and took selfies. But general applause erupted at the conclusion of the song. So maybe we'll go another year without replacing the Star-Spangled Banner with Cardi B's "Wap."

Started out fast and wanted to quit after fifty yards. Then I wanted to slide over to the far right hand side of the course and walk. I was breathing hard but not gasping and felt I could hold the pace. The temperature at 8:00 AM was nearing 80 degrees. I know every dip and bump and rise in the route around the Rose Bowl, so I was able to relax somewhat and focus on my chi running form. I felt slow. People were passing me. Past mile 2, I passed a few people, picking up speed on such downhills as existed. In the final stretch, a 28-year-old guy blew past me, but I managed to tie him at the finish line. 

A pleasing time of 31:51.

I waited for wife Joy to wrap up and it was off to breakfast. Now I'm happy I got up and happy I didn't slow down or walk and happy I raced today. 

 

A Pleasant Canada Day

 An edited repost from six years ago.

With dominions, provinces, and a House of Commons, our northern neighbor proudly celebrates the Constitution Act of 1867 when three provinces were linked to form one country. Read more here. In honor of their day, I present "The Maple Leaf Forever." (Incidentally, this is an excellent song to blast when the neighbor kids crank up the rap too loud.)

Before He Was Spongebob

Years before voicing the role of the loveable undersea sponge, comic Tom Kenny portrayed evil clown Binky in Shakes the Clown. LANGUAGE WARNING. 

Mike Wright

D-Day Today!

 

The Guardian

Seventy-seven years have passed since the Allies invaded Nazi-occupied France. Given the hollowing out of our military with Critical Race Theory, how many soldiers would risk their lives today on behalf of a society marinating in racism? Sorry, France Who are we to liberate you when our own society needs a complete revolution? Maybe brush up on your German.  

A Farewell to Lucky the Viral Dog

 Voice actor Paul Rugg reflects upon the arrival of chihuahua Lucky into his life, bidding the wee canine a fond sic transit a year after its passing. I should get a eulogy this good.  

Paul Rugg's Froynlaven

Prostate Cancer: The Real Talk Launches

 

Prostate Cancer: The Real Talk starts speaking today via the wonder of podcasting.  Listen as cancer survivor El and wife Shay interview doctors, authors and other survivors as they explore the varied facets of prostate cancer—diagnosis, treatment, recovery, post-op life. Also on Facebook  and You Tube. 

(Just so you know, I'm a guest on a later show discussing my book: They Took My Prostate: Cancer-Loss-Hope which qualifies me neatly.)

Prostate Cancer Real Talk

Smoking Hot Stock Market Tips

Some of my favorite investment advice from comic Ryan Long. (Note: A pesky commerical up front. Endure for five seconds until the Skip Ad button appears. Then enjoy.) 

Ryan Long

Memorial Day Book Sale!

 Good Books for .99 Cents or Less

For This Weekend, "Less" Means Free!

AetherCzar

Author Hans Schanz, man, scientist, scribe is once again opening the literary floodgates and offering readers the opportunity to glut themselves on a wealth of titles. Go. Glut. I won't judge. 

Memorial Day Memories Redux

(Originally published in 2013, based off a 2009 post. The day remains as solemn today as it was then.)

This Memorial Day I again think of Kurt and T.J.

Imagine you knew a man from Cleveland, Ohio.

This man had one sibling, an older sister.

During Vietnam, he volunteered for dangerous assignments, operating far behind enemy lines.

After the war, he battled drugs and alcohol.

Eventually, he sobered up and went to work for a vending machine company.

For many years, he traveled in a van around Los Angeles fixing coffee and soda machines.

Now imagine you knew two men with the exact same history.  (But different vending machine companies.)

I was honored to have been friends with a pair of guys whose backgrounds meshed in such odd intimate ways. Once I introduced them at a party, figuring they'd have lots in common, but after a few polite minutes they separated.

They'd experienced stranger things.

Kurt served in Marine recon. Based out of Khe Sanh, he operated in Laos along the Ho Chi Minh Trail on operations so secret that the Americans who died there were never officially acknowledged. Kurt had extended his service to go to Vietnam. He was wounded twice, decorated, and returned home only to be attacked in a bus depot by a man angry over the war. (The man didn't fare well against Kurt who beat him into a fine mist.)

T.J. originally fought with the 12th Infantry near Dak To. He loathed the eerie randomness of combat—here one second gone the next and decided his odds would be better in the  LRRPs (Long Range Reconnaissance Patrol). Instead of waiting to be hit, TJ  crept around North Vietnamese base camps in the Central Highlands making the enemy nervous. He returned to serve out his last few months at Fort Knox, conducting tours of the U.S. Gold Reserve. One night while watching a TV show he started shaking and broke into tears.

Years would pass before he learned about PTSD.

In 2002 I made a business trip to Vietnam. I brought Kurt back a little Buddha and some red clay from Khe Sanh. TJ collected Buddhas so I picked him out a honey in Saigon: a big, fat happy Buddha, smiling like he'd just won the Power Ball,  holding up the Pearl of Knowledge.  
  
In the end, Vietnam finally claimed them both. Health and psychological problems shortened their lives. But they did the best they could with a bad hand and I value the times we had together. 

This weekend I remember them and all who gave their lives in service to the country.

(Based on a post from 2009.)

Run China and Die

 

voxpolitical

Okay, three running posts in a row. You'd swear it was 2007 again. I'm nowhere near a marathon in China or America. Today I ran a pleasant 2.5 miles, experimented with 2x1 run/walks, and didn't keep overall time. This is my step-down week and I intend to rest. Weather conditions were sunny, in the high 70s.

Meanwhile at an ultramarathon in northwest China:

Survivors gave shocking testimony of events on the rugged mountainside, where unconfirmed meteorological reports to local media said temperatures had plunged to as low as minus 24 degrees Celsius. [-11.2 Fahrenheit]

Recalled one surviving runner:

"My limbs were frozen stiff and I felt like I was slowly losing control of my body. . . I wrapped my insulation blanket around me, took out my GPS tracker, pressed the SOS button and lost consciousness."

He said when he came round he discovered a shepherd had carried him to a cave, placed him by the fire and wrapped him in a duvet. [A form of bedding.]

Read more here.

The article didn't state if the deceased runners had their organ harvested. Perhaps a later edition will update us on this robust custom. Of course, being dead prior to the harvesting leeches some of the fun from this Chi Com practice. 

A Midwestern Running Day

Astounding. Two running posts in a row. High 60s today with cloudy skies and a light breeze. Very similar to the Illinois of my youth. A splendid day to run four miles. My last mile lagged a bit as I didn't press to finish, but, otherwise, I'm pleased with my performance. Next week features EZ running, no timing, just a trio of short fun runs. Then back to training for my 5k at the beginning of July. 

The Heavens Align for a Good Run

weekendletter.com

 

Well, perhaps nothing that grand. 

But I ran four miles today, dashing out early to take advantage of the marine layer over the LA basin. As I was working my way into mile four, out popped Mr. Sun. I finished up before the temperature rose another ten degress. 

Two things to remember from todays effort:

1. I did not want to run this morning and considered putting it off another day.

2. I did not want to run on pace. 

3. Now I'm quite pleased that I ran and. especially. pleased that I stayed on pace.

How odd, the human mind. Mine seems to want to do just enough to get by, whether in exercise, writing, finance, my relationships. Sometimes not even enough to slide along. As I mentioned last month, I need to plan my actions, execute my plans and adjust as I go, always with a goal in mind. Otherwise, the default is ambling through life waiting for the end. 

Here's an intriguing short video on dealing with stress and achieving goals. 

Productivity Game

Total Equality For Women Includes Crab Fishing

 

Ryan Long and Co. point out the yawning gaps in gender equity.

Ryan Long

Les Grossman Meet Hans Gruber

 

Funny or Die ponders the outcome of negotiations between Tropic Thunder's profanity-rich studio boss and the creepy terrorist from the first Die Hard. 

Funny or Die

Lockdowns Rock!!

Comic Ryan Long and company examine the inert lifestyle.

Ryan Long

Book Review: Kill Zone

 

Kill Zone by Damir Salkovic
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

A dystopian feast, Salkovic's world mixes the techno jargon of William Gibson's cyberpunk with the surreal blend of entertainment and violence found in books such as The Running Man and The Hunger Games.

When the system upends Frank Clayton's life, he signs up to appear in a brutal reality show where survival and ratings closely intertwine. But a series of events points Clayton down a road to revenge against the indifferent corporate forces that destroyed his family.

Salkovic excels at description. He handles action well. However at several points the pacing seemed slowed by both action and description, braking the story's forward motion. Nevertheless, for the most part, the narrative moves rapidly, immersing the reader in one man's struggle for justice in a savage dog-eat-dog world.

An excellent pick for lovers of the dystopian genre as well as military sci-fi.

View all my reviews

Paul Rugg Explains the Art of Puppetry

In under a minutes, Jim Henson puppeteer Paul Rugg unveils the secrets of his craft. 

Paul Rugg's Froynlaven

Mental Toughness Practical Applications

 

bobandrosemary.com

If I lost anything since the twin deaths of animation writing and marathon running, it was a certain hardy mental attitude. When combined with chasing little dopamine hits on the Internet, the decay has proved devastating. Over the last thirteen years, my unfinished writing projects have multiplied while my weight has ballooned. At one point I went over a year writing folders of prose without completing so much as a short story. During the same period, my weight topped out at 271 lbs with a svelte 48" waist. 

Mental toughness was easy to see in exercise. Pain and discomfort are present. To push past them requires effort. I would allow myself to quit after five seconds of such effort. I usually lasted longer. Gradually, I acclimated to stressing myself. Pushing hard on certain workouts became the norm. The payoff was on race days.

In writing, mental toughness exhibits itself every day in a series of little nos. No to checking email, or social media, or watching one short YouTube skateboard fail. No to stopping early or quitting a project to begin a new one or hating everything you've written. Perhaps no is not the word. Perhaps its the phrase "maybe later."

As in exercise, the ability to apply the phrase can be built gradually. "Let me write one more sentence." "I'll first reach the end of the chapter." "This isn't too bad. I'll keep going a little longer."

Sadly the Internet trims your attention span and flushes out new knowledge with newer knowledge or, worse, trivia, ensuring that nothing stays in your head long enough to become wisdom. As I train for a 5k in July, I decided to reacquire mental toughness. If in running, then why not in writing?

Here's a book I used to help prepare me mentally for the 2007 Phoenix Marathon. It's so old, there's not even a Kindle version. But I'm returning to its pages for inspiration and techniques to help me grow as a runner and a writer.

Five seconds here, a maybe later there. It adds up like compound interest.

What's the Difference Between Panic-PTSD-and Combat Fatigue?

 

Journey of a Prophetic Feeler

No, it's not the setup for a joke. But writers might want to know the difference. Author Caroline Furlong lays out the markers in an info-packed blog post. Furlong points out how the ignorant often conflate this trio of afflictions. 

How So?

". . . no combat veteran is a ticking time bomb waiting to go off. Those improvised devices waiting to explode are warped human beings that have chosen their paths and who are seldom veterans. The popular press/media paints with as broad a pop-psychology pastel brush as possible in this matter so as to demean, depress, and indict all those who have served in the nation's armed forces. Combat Fatigue, meanwhile, is almost entirely ignored, by both authors and the media and their pet psycho-babblers."

Learn more about these distinctions with a difference at Furlong's blog A Song of Joy.

Godzilla vs. King Kong Pitch Meeting

 Courtesy of comic Ryan George over at Screen Rant.  SPOILER ALERT in case you wish to be among the dozens eager to witness this CGI fest. Keep a careful eye out for plot holes.

Happy Easter 2021!

 Early dinner today with my wife and mother-in-law. And a fine sunny day it is, too. 

theskitguys

A Solemn Holy Day

 

Ementra

Antifa Profits Off Mayhem

 Another week, another gem by comic Ryan Long as he smashes the idea known as antifa.

Ryan Long