Personal Responsibility

I was always told that once I got married, my metabolism would slow down and I would have to pay attention to what I eat and maybe even exercise... Oh the horror!

When I turned 25, I weighed over 250 pounds, while I was 170 just four years before. 60 of those pounds happened in the first two years. It had nothing to do with marriage, so get that notion out of your head.

What Can I attribute that kind of weight gain? 

Genetics? Maybe a little.

Sedentary lifestyle? Sure. I work at a desk, after all. 

Being poor and only eating pasta? Yeah, especially for the first 2 years.

Other contributing factors were Starbucks Double Shots, iced triple grande extra caramel macchiatos, Vanilla Coke, Sobe, Mt Dew, Dr Pepper, Pumpkin Ice Cream, any Ben and Jerry's flavor, lemon heads, sour patch kids, caramel cremes, Friendly's, and last but not least, burritos with extra cheese and sour cream.

I liked cheese so much, that I would eat a brick of Monterey Jack like a snickers...

My motto might as well have been, "Any pizza can be a personal pizza if you try hard and believe in yourself."

Those items helped, but the real problem was me. I had NO self control when it came to food. I loved food, and still do. 

But when you're 25 and your doctor tells you that your cholesterol levels are similar to that of a morbidly obese 45 year old on a McDiet...  (He was more polite than that, but that's how I heard it)... Something has to change.

So, when I walk past the break area at my office and see a bowl full of candy, my internal reaction is, "Why does someone keep filling this up? No wonder I'm not losing any weight."

My reaction should be, "Oh look, candy." And then I should proceed to walk away. But I never did. Until recently.

I've kept my weight at 210 for a year, and I've packed on a good portion of muscle. What's my secret?

Personal Responsibility... Hence the title.

I started lifting weights, correctly. Started eating well. And what do you know... It started to work...

So for 2 years, I stuck to water, black coffee or dirty chais. (double dirty Oprah chai) I did have a brief addiction to Cranberry RedBull. (Still have one here and there) I'd have soda now and then, mostly while on the road with the band, moving gear and running around on a stage like a fool, actually getting exercise...

This is not a "Yay!! Look at my success" story... It's just an example of how taking responsibility for yourself can improve your well being.

In conclusion...

Stop blaming food. Stop blaming McDonalds. (Apparently people still do that) 

Stop expecting the government to tell us what we can and can't eat. 

Don't want a 36oz soda? Don't order one.

Make some positive choices and you might actually see some positive consequences. 

Fin

Income Equality

Getting paid what you're worth.

The concept of paying $15 an hour for an entry level McDonald's employee makes me more sick than their "food" ever could.

A few months back, the band was enroute to a few shows in Watertown, NY and despite knowing better, we were forced to stop for some food at a McDonalds.

My wife orders something fairly simple, one of the featured items at the time; Some chipotle ranch bacon burger meal,  medium, and a water instead of soda.

Somehow this order, which most likely consited of 3 buttons on the screen, was too complicated for the employee. Perhaps it was his first day and he didn't know how to sub water in place of soda.

Not once did he ask for help from his manager or explain with a, "Sorry, I'm new." Either of those actions would have at least bought him the time to figure out what to do or someone else would have shown him. 

I've been "the new guy" before, I get it.

After 5 minutes of confusion and nothing accomplished, we ask him to cancel the order, star over, and change it to a McChicken and a medium fry. (We had plenty of water in the van)

Easy right?

We go to pay and it's over 8 dollars.

Apparently, Sir McConfusion didn't understand what 'cancel' meant... Or 'star over.'

I'm not saying he was stupid, I'm saying he was a lowsy employee and as such, is in no way worth $15 an hour.

I work a near minimum wage job, ontop of my profession, which is ontop of my band (my other profession). This job is in food service and we are paid pretty well for the kind of work it is. If I want to make more, I'll wait for my raises or seek advancement, because that is how the world is supposed to work.

If your company doesn't work that way, don't work for them.

If you don't make enough money, regardless of what your wage is... Here are a few ideas:

Cut your expenses. (Smartphone, DVR, etc. are all nice, but not necessary) Seek a promotion. Maybe look for better job or second job. Can't find one? Have the stones to learn a trade or a marketable skill of some kind and start a business.

Here's an example:

A member of my family started working at a fast food place as a teenager. 5.15 an hour was minimum wage back then.

Now, he has worked his way up the ladder and is the district manager for the area in which he lives.

He did his job and did it well. This company promoted the person who deserved it. 

If the company for which you work doesn't operate that way, and that bothers you... Grow a pair, and find a new job. Or grow a different pair and suck it up.

 

Entertainment of Substance: Part 1

After listening to music in various forms and styles, watching a variety of television and movies, and reading a few (admittedly not too many) books, I've found myself especially drawn to a few particular things in each form of media...

Its substance and purpose.

Contrary to what many (including my band mates) might think, it was not the barely comprehensible technobabble and the blossoming, but flawed and fatal interspecies romances of Star Trek: The Next Generation that got me hooked. Neither was is the setting; space, future, starship, strange new worlds, etc. It wasn't the state of the art production quality, camera shakes, and attention to detail.

Which, quick side note, if the officers of Starfleet are ever trained in weaponry, you'd think they'd know how to hold a rifle/gun... Maybe hire a military consultant. Or, I don't know... Watch Lethal Weapon, from what I know, Martin Riggs holds his Beretta 92fs (or whatever it is) the right way. Don't hold your plasma rifle like a 10 year old girl.

It's the overall theme of striving to better oneself and the rest of humanity that sticks with me now.

Look at Firefly (which I will reference in nearly every blog because it is the best show to ever be on television) - To the average viewer, it could look like a rip off of Star Trek. I would argue that they have no idea, and should pay more attention.

With Firefly, there's this overall feeling of hope, as dreary and bleak as everything looks, as bad as things were today and promise to be tomorrow, if you're still alive at the end of it, you're still in it. 

There's this idea of fighting for what you believe. EVEN IF YOU KNOW YOU'LL LOSE THE FIGHT. And if you lose, don't throw away your convictions because the people with power say you're wrong. 

There is a preacher on Firefly, and I applaud Joss Whedon for portraying Christians as he did. People of great conviction, with baggage and personal struggles that go against their convictions.

 He was a man of peace. But he wasn't a pansy. (Very Christ-like). He would occasionally take up arms to help defend his crew, his family, his friends, etc.

Joss Whedon seemed to have an understanding as to what makes a man of God tick, even though he, himself, is an Atheist. He created a complex character that we barely got to explore before Fox ripped the carpet out from under us. If you follow the rest of the 'verse, you'll see his whole tale of redemption.

I'm not saying EVERY Christian should be just like this fictitious one... Duh... But it's something to think about.

The overall themes of freedom, family, trust, forgiveness, etc. are what endear the show to me.

Also, the Mandarin/English hybrid language was pretty cool.

Suffice it to say, I don't watch crap television. I don't actually watch television at all. I wait for it to go online because I'm too cheap to pay to be on someone else's entertainment schedule.

If it's reality TV, you can keep it. Duck Dynasty included.

The Bachelor? No.

Bridezilla? No.

Super Nanny? No.

Jersey Shore? No. If I want to watch a bunch of people get wasted, fist bump, and have sex with each other, I'll go set up camp in our neighbor's apartment.

I'll watch something that challenges me, makes me think, makes me laugh, makes me cry (Star Trek and Firefly).

If 16 and Pregnant or Keeping Up with the Kardashians is your flavor of entertainment, whatever. You can enjoy it if you want. 

But try watching something with substance, something with real meaning behind it. It's worth it.

Teachers: Part 2 - Mother and Brothers

In the last post, I just talked about my dad.

So now, an Ode to Mom -

Hospitality - I can barely remember a summer where we didn't have 4 kids of a different family running around our house, playing with our NES, Army Men, Legos, etc. Each of the kids was the appropriate age to be a friend of mine or my older brother... It did not occur to me that my mom was babysitting these kids, I thought they were mandatory summer friends.

That started (or continued) a long tradition of my house being the place where my friends would hang out, there was enough room for 5 or 6 of us to crowd around the TV in the living room and watch a rented VHS of The Rock, with Nicholas Cage and Sean Connery. (not "the Rock" the wrestler, although we thought his movie "The Rundown" was pretty good.) We'd have neighborhood-wide games of hide and seek, with one particular tree in my yard designated "Safe." And it wasn't because I was the "coolest kid in school," believe me, I was a nerd. Still am.
It was really because my parents would let us get away with the most shenanigans, because they knew we were mostly harmless. Mostly. Only two of us were ever stabbed in the eye, with an actual sword, and only only one of us bled... He then said, "Nah, it's just a flesh wound! Let's keep going!" And that event did not occur at my house.

I could go on and on about the ridiculous things that would happen at my house, but many of those can be saved for a later (and entertaining) post.

More Hospitality -
My mother (and father) are so accommodating, that my long-distance friends would stay at their house in order to visit their girlfriend/boyfriend the next day. And this was 3 years after I had gotten married and moved out. Most of them are married now, so that doesn't happen so often.

Come to think of it, prior to our getting married, my wife actually lived with my parents while I moved closer to work. Because it was a more convenient alternative than her living in the mountains with her mom (who is awesome and an amazing photographer Check it out, here,) but whose internet was slow.

This gave way to my house being a home for everyone who didn't want to be at their own. I kept it stocked with Coke, Vanilla Coke, Mt. Dew, and plenty of Sunchips. Not only would both of my bands (One Less Star and Kardia) practice there, but another; a hardcore band, called Nigh is the Hour would occupy our rehearsal space while 10 other people hung out in the living room, playing Super Smash Bros Brawl, watching Joss Whedon's Firefly (the best freaking show to ever air on television) and downing copious amounts of sugary goodness (Mountain Dew) and pizza.

Of course, now I don't have the room to host 4 people, let alone the 15 who used to live at my house. Such is the fate of an apartment in a city. Maybe someday.

Frugality - I will forever look at the unit price of an item before purchasing it. Smaller might be cheaper for now, but next week, I will run out of coffee and you will not want to hang out with me. Price per pound, per ounce, per each, etc. If your mother wasn't awesome enough to teach you that, then let mine.
Always purchase based on the lower unit price.

Brothers -

By the time I was old enough to appreciate the things I could learn from my older siblings, the older of the two was married and living a few hours away. And this was before the days of Facebook an Skype. Fortunately for me, he taught me (without realizing it) to focus on what's important.

Focus and Passion -
He uprooted himself and his family from what I thought to be a comfortable life, with a well-paying job that he enjoyed, and moved back to our neck of the woods, where he cooks awesome food for a bunch of ravenous teenagers (and adults) who most likely demand bacon for every meal.

Is cooking food his passion? Maybe, you'd have to ask him. But from the outside, it sure looks that way.

Not only is he a lunch lady, but he does it at a Christian Camp where he serves as an example of how to live a Godly life for the kids who work there, and probably some of the ones who attend notice as well.

Patience -
You ever cook bacon for 120 different kids every week?
He has a teenage daughter with an iPhone. I think I'd lose my mind.


Despite his love for what he does, his family comes first. That may have been the real reason for uprooting and coming back home. It's a good place to raise a family.

Sarcasm (again)
He can dish it out with the best of them, and so he is a keeper of the Spiritual Gift of Sarcasm. If you didn't guess, sarcasm has played a major part in my life.

The Other Brother

This brother was a few years older than me, and still around during my formative years.

Quality Entertainment
Star Trek, Star Wars, Legos, Dragonball Z, Nintendo, Tom Clancy novels, Orson Scott Card novels, Sister Hazel, Foo Fighters, James Taylor, Billy Joel, The Beach Boys, Jan and Dean, Saved by the Bell, Boy Meets World, The Postman, etc.
Pretty much anything that occupies my leisure time (now and back then) has been influenced by this guy. And yes, there is a reason Star Trek came first. Yes, I'm a nerd.

Marching Band -
I always enjoyed music. I sang, played a little trumpet, tinkered on the piano, but it wasn't until the summer before 7th grade when my true love of music really took hold. I joined marching band as soon as I was able, and my intense love for music was born.I had little time for anything else, and he helped nurture the seed that contained the discipline planted by our father. I wanted to quit. SO many times. But after sticking with it for years, and years, and years. I wouldn't be the person I am today without the militaristic discipline instilled in me. Had it not been for my brother's heavy involvement in it, I'd have never stuck with music.

But why was I REALLY in marching band? Well, I was no good at sports, as many friends can attest. So I had to get girls some how.

How to Get Girls -
I met my wife through marching band and I'll tell that story at some point. So yeah. Chris taught me how to get girls.

For a long time, my motto was as follows.
Marching band is life, the rest is just details.

Yes, I'm a nerd.

Firefly

Yeah, this has its own section, and it will probably have its own blog at some point. Because as I mentioned before, it is the BEST show to ever air. My brother told me to watch this show for years, and after 8 years of ignoring him, I watched the first episode... And finished the rest of the show within a week. Got my wife hooked. Got my friends hooked (the ones that weren't already into it)
My dad would have liked it too, but he recently explained that he doesn't enjoy unresolved issues in story telling... And for those of you that know Firefly... You understand the problem.

Yes, I'm a nerd.

There's a crap ton more that I learned from these people, but I'm trying to keep these posts under 5000 words.

Teachers: Part 1 - Dad

While en route to a Kardia show, listening to the audio book of Nick Offerman's "Paddle Your Own Canoe - One Man's Recipe for Delicious Living," I began to take stock of the teachers I had as a kid. Some were great, some mediocre, some adequate and some were downright, terrible. And I'm not simply talking about the graduate degree-bearing, scholastic educators that our country has neglected over the years, though some of them made an appearance. I'm thinking of the many people who made a difference in my life, showing me how to do things, how to (not what to) think, and so on.

Of course, I had work to do, so no such blog was written, until now.

Number one, in chronological order and quality of lessons learned (Don't be mad, Mom)
Is my Dad. Here are the things that stood out at first.

Discipline - My dad, like myself, is a Christian. As a kid, if I actually woke up before the last possible minute, I would find him at the breakfast room table, with a cup (more likely his 3rd) of coffee, a bowl of Wheaties, and his King James Version. While I still wake up at the last possible minute, I try to maintain a discipline of reading and studying - Though I use the English Standard Version... And it's almost never in the morning.
For a brief time, I dabbled in a combination of Shodokan Karate and Small Circle Jujitsu, mentored by my dad and another member of the law enforcement community. It wasn't a lot, just learning with a group of kids at church, a few nights a week. I did get to practice at home, in the kitchen. Until Dad and I would get scolded by Mom for rough housing. But we never got hurt, and no one ever called the police to report a domestic disturbance. I still practice some of the techniques once in a while. They can be useful.

Safety and Security - Dad was a cop, and a good one. I had aspired to be one too (what kid doesn't want to be like his dad) but that didn't pan out. But through his example, and very little explanation, I despise sitting with my back to a window, door, or any point of ingress/egress. And I'm always watching my surroundings when I'm out. Of course, if I'm out to eat with him, I'll let him face the door, I figure he'll let me know if something goes down.

Unless I am at my house, relaxed, with my feet up, and the doors locked, there is a greater potential for a dangerous situation. The safety of my wife, and those around me is my top concern. You might call it paranoia, but I call it situational awareness. Of course, I live in an apartment in a metropolitan area with a high crime rate, and extremely strict firearms regulations to which the dangerous ones don't adhere... I don't relax. Ever.

Firearms - I couldn't proficiently ride a bike until I was around 11 years old. But at 9 years, my dad took me to some outdoor range where I learned the value of a Glock 9mm (I think it was a 17 or 19), a Ruger 10/22 and some form of shotgun, the recoil from which, scared the crap out of me. Firearms basics were instilled in me from a young age, and were I to raise children, you can bet they'd be raised with the same healthy respect for firearms as I. If I had any curiosity regarding the guns in dad's locker, I was to speak up and ask him. And I'm sure I did from time to time.

I support the second amendment and stand against any attempt to undermine it. If you don't want a gun, don't get one.

Handiness - I could not be less serious. I am quite possibly the least handy out of all of my peers. It's a running joke with my band mates, "Hey, Jeff - go ask your wife to get *this tool*." Because my beautiful and lovely wife knows more about power tools than I. I did change a tire yesterday, so I'm not completely useless. But the notion of my being a handyman died about a week after Dad showed me how to replace the breaks in my 1995 Isuzu Rodeo... Loved that truck...

My inability to fix anything continued to not develop when I bought a house in a town where -26 degrees is normal in the winter. If I ran out of oil, which would happen on occasion, I would have to fill the tank, and bleed the air out of something attached to my boiler, then restart it, and pray I did it right. And I usually did.
So, Dad's handyman lessons were lost on me, not for lack of trying. But I can change the crap out of a flat tire in a lightning-fast forty minutes.

I also know which end of the screwdriver to hold.

Chivalry - This should speak for itself. My dad is a gentleman. Professionally, personally, in all measurable aspects of life, he puts others first. The nature of his career is such that he puts himself at risk, every day, for the safety of others.
He holds the door for women, men, and children. I definitely inherited this one, but I try to keep it under control. If I don't watch myself, I'll end up holding it for the next 20 people because their dad never taught them to be generous and courteous. Poor saps.

Patience - After raising three boys, It's hard to imagine how my dad managed to maintain his countenance while dealing with us, and the 90 billion friends we had over. (Probably had an easier time than Mom) My older brothers may have a better handle on patience than I do. (they are both raising daughters, God help them) My version of patience is just a quiet tolerance for things I think are annoying or pointless. Am I doing it right?

Sarcasm - I don't know how, but I'm sure he's to blame for my snarky, sardonic side. He's referenced "The Spiritual Gift of Sarcasm" many times. A play on the spiritual gifts described in the New Testament. Often, I hear the question, "Well, was Jesus sarcastic?"

The answer is, "Yes, but not all the time."

I generally use sarcasm as a way of exemplifying a ridiculous scenario to prove a finer point.
I find that sarcasm is the best defense mechanism short of a pistol, and you don't need a license for it.

In closing: Is my dad the dad that you always wanted?
Don't be stupid, of course he is.

Introduction

Many years ago after watching a horrific movie, I wrote a short review on Myspace, where it received a whopping .5 out of 10. (looking back, that was generous)

The system in which I rated the film was with a currency known as "Bat Poo Burritos." -Stemming from a joke I had made in that blog.

For posterity's sake, I may post that review again, eventually.

Hence, Jeff's Burrito Review, the place in which I will discuss most things in life. Some things trivial, some of consequence.

A few disclaimers-

I consider myself to be seriously sarcastic. Be prepared.

I will, most likely, offend someone. Be prepared.

I will, at some point, review some burritos. Be excited.