Life and Stuff

This week’s blog is dedicated to the best cat ever.

​Sarsgard Wentworth Linde 
Born somewhere around 2003. Died April 24, 2019
“Of my friend, I can only say this. Of all the souls I have encountered in my travels, his was the most human.”
We miss you, buddy.

A comment from a recent visitor:
 
                                                     “Well, hell yeah, I’d want to win!!!”
 
And my answer to that eloquent comment is, me too! And I wrote the damn thing! Thanks for stopping by and entering, Tony.

Just a friendly reminder; this is the last week to enter to win an autographed copy of “Son of Ravage.” If you haven’t already, proceed to the comments form. The rest is easy. And now’s the time to get any friends to stop by to enter. You can’t have all the fun and, hey, you’re doing them a favor. I will be drawing the name of some lucky person next week.
 
Hold onto your hats as we have some great blogs coming your way. In a few weeks, we will run my interview with journalist Alex Horvath. Alex is a Bay Area legend who has interviewed such luminaries as Tony Curtis, Marty Balin of the Jefferson Airplane, and now. Little old me. We will be doing that interview Sunday, April 28th  and will post it before it prints. So, stay tuned!
 
And now this…
 
Exercise. That’s the topic of this week. Even great heroes need to get off their ass once in a while to make sure they remain fit for adventuring, fighting crime or both. Unlike the vast majority of modern Americans, they know the importance of a vigorous daily mental and physical regimen that keeps the heart pounding and the blood flowing. 
 
As the writer of Son of Ravage, I know that sometimes it’s just a matter of having enough hours in the say to take care of ourselves. And, there’s always the cost to consider. Gym memberships aren’t cheap and once you have one, you still run the risk of contracting a flesh-eating bacteria from stationary bike that had its last full sanitary wipe-down sometime during the Carter administration. Exclusive and higher cost gyms have their own drawbacks. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been asked out for a date in the men’s steam room. Nothing worse than a “come hither” look from a complete stranger who’s attempting to reenact the police interrogation scene from “Basic Instinct.”
 
Oh, sure I could jog or bike. But that carries its own risk. Have you seen the drivers that are out there these days? I know from personal experience. They’re terrible. I should know, I’m one of them. No, I need a regimen that I can practice in the privacy of my own home. Something a bit more challenging than Robert Preston singing “Go you chicken fat, go away. Go you chicken fat, go.”
 
Well, after years of searching, I think I’ve finally found it.

As you can see from this rare photo above, I’ve stumbled onto a daily routine that can be accomplished from the comfort of your Lazy Boy recliner. For the last eleven years, not a day goes by that I don’t indulge in this rigorous activity. Sometimes, I am so immersed, my wife has to come into yell at me that it is time for dinner or that it is three in the morning or that I need to turn the damn sound down. During these daily drills, my senses are tested to the limit, thumbs and forefingers strenuously going through a series of four challenging buttons  L1, L2, R1, R2 and the most complicated maneuvers of all,  L3 and R3 (which can help strengthening the muscles of your flexor pollicis brevis, and abductor pollicis brevis).
 
As with all good things, some people can overdo it, taxing their body too much and pushing the envelope. Some spend entire days, nights and even weeks, in deep, contemplative training. Some devotees never leave their basements, wearing adult diapers and taking entire meals from Taco Bell or Carl’s Jr, while deep in their pursuit for perfection. Generally, these disciples are not married, or in any kind of serious relationship. The pale, sun-deprived devotees know full well, that if they pause, even for the briefest of moments, they very well might lose their competitive edge. They are truly are the unsung champions of the digital age, keeping the fight in the basement and rumpus rooms where they belong.
 
I am 65 years young and I am proud to be one of them. Remember, you are only as old as you feel…or as old as the osteoarthritis in your hands makes you feel. Maybe this explains what happened to John Carradine. I will have to check that out.  Until next time, Happy Exercising and Boss exterminating.