Make me great again

Last Friday’s blogflection on President Trump’s inauguration day had a befitting title we’ve read and listened to countless times during last year’s grueling and marathon Presidential election - “Make America Great Again”.  I’m sure we haven’t heard the last of it.

Realizing that the total of any greatness is the sum of its parts, this got me thinking that the way to make America great again is for each of us to be great again.  It makes me wonder if I’ve ever been great; maybe you’re thinking the same.

Well, great is a relative term in relationship to my maximum potential of being great.  I shouldn’t compare myself to someone else in assessing my own greatness.  Me being great can best be understood by me as being my maximum greatness at whatever great I’m capable of achieving assuming I put forth maximum effort.  A little perseverance is also important.

So, you and I have the potential to be great within our own unique selves, yet, at least for me, my greatness is sometimes dormant and in remission.  And if my greatness has been dormant and in remission for way too long, just like America, maybe it’s time for me to do something about it.  How about you?

Maybe it’s time for all of us to do something about it.

I’m jumping on the hype wagon of making American great again by making my own modest contribution, knowing that American’s total greatness is the sum of the greatness millions of Americans achieve in their own greatness pursuits.

I’m going to make me great again.

Pax Domini sit semper vobiscum

Make America great again

Pierini Fitness continues from yesterday, with another political content reflection.  After today, he’ll return to primarily sharing his middle-aged man reflections about living and dying, gracefully aging and trying to live a good and honest life.  So, bear with me for today.

Yesterday’s blogflection might have painted a picture of who is Pierini Fitness in one area you might not have known.  If it did so only partially, more likely than not, today’s reflection will seal the deal.

Last year, Pierini Fitness posted a couple blogflections taking a cyberspace stab, so to speak, at then candidate for President Donald Trump.  Having reviewed those posts again, I stand by everything shared in them, and would say what I said again if he said what he did again.

But along his way and successful journey to becoming our 45^th President today, I’ve learned to pinch my nose at his bad while developing an appreciation for his good.  This good is both his vision of what he wants for our country and the way he shares how he’ll go about attempting to do it.

So, today, I personally congratulate Donald Trump, our new President, and privately extend my prayers and well-wishes to him as he gets to work.  I also do the same for his family, knowing it’s no easy task being a family member of the President of the United States. 

In some respects, the feelings and mood I sense among many who look forward to a new President Trump reminds me of what I recall long ago when Ronald Reagan became our President in 1981.  There was this economic enthusiasm having its roots in good old-fashioned American capitalism, a pride of America and a pride of being an American.

So, lets act on the message of our messenger, President Trump, and do our own fair share in making America great again.

Pax Domini sit semper vobiscum

On the way out

Pierini Fitness is as all-American of a middle-aged man as they come.  Just like all Americans, he has his values and political leanings; or slant as some may call it.  

Yet others may describe these things as making up my bigot.  Call it what you want, it's who I am just like your collective makeup of values and political leanings make you who you are unique from anyone else in the whole wide world. 

Isn't it wonderful to be an American, free to be this way without fear of a one-way trip to the guillotine?

Those who have followed Pierini Fitness know that among the 900 blogflections posted here, as of yesterday, political content is among the least discussed.  There's a reason for this.  

First, there are others who do a far better job.  Second, it just doesn't interest me and ignite a passion requiring me to publicly share my deepest feelings and thoughts.  This doesn’t mean I don't have them, or that I won't share them in private discussions with others capable of doing so courteously.  

Despite this big build-up about who I am and what are my values and political leanings, I want to use today's reflection to wish President Obama well as he leaves the Oval Office. It'll be fun, again, for me, to be interested in viewing Presidential press conferences and State of the Union addresses, something I've not done the past eight years.

And, I also want to remind him, "Don't let the door hit you on the way out."

Pax Domini sit semper vobiscum

With fame comes duty

I miss my good friend Tommy Kono, American’s greatest ever Olympic weightlifter.  He passed away about 8 months ago, last April.  

I received a Christmas card from his wife and a small gift.  It was a DVD documentary about his wonderful life, Arnold Knows Me: The Tommy Kono Story.  If you haven’t had a chance to view this one-hour documentary, I highly recommend it.

Anyway, viewing the DVD brought back many memories of his life and I recall him sharing all these memories in in many private conversations I had with him.

Most of the time, he was the instructor and I was his student as I listened to his great wisdom, but I do recall one time when our roles were reversed.  He was staying as a guest in my home during one of his visits to Sacramento.  While at the annual Tommy Kono Weightlifting Contest held at his alma mater high school, he was approached by a group of people, who knew very well, wanting to take him to dinner after the competition.

Well Mr. Kono politely declined.  I believe he felt obligated to spend that evening with me since he was a guest in my home.  Sensing this obligation, I encouraged him to join his friends who had invited him but, again, he declined.  He said there would be other opportunities to enjoy their company.

I accepted what he said but felt an opportunity to share my relatively-younger wisdom with him, and I did.

What did I say?  Something I remind myself constantly, particularly when observing the doings of well-known and respected public figures, and my, known-to-me-only, small fame character.  

I told him, “With fame comes duty.”

Pax Domini sit semper vobiscum

Yes, I'm exercising

It seems the reflections here for 2017 thus far have followed my favorite theme of living and dying, gracefully aging and trying to live a good and honest life.  Is a blog named Pierini Fitness, a misnomer?  After all, there hasn’t been one reflection here this year even making mere mention of current exercise.

Well, for my record, fitness is happening in my life despite a ramping up in progress of what will soon be a very busy seasonal work period.  What I’m doing must be done with efficiency.  I don’t have the luxury of jumping into my car, going somewhere, dressing down and dressing up into my favorite jock training attire, working out, showering, redressing, driving back to where I came, etc.  

So, what am I doing?  Quick and dirty, yet highly efficient stuff in a spare room in my office where I have permanently parked my modest kettlebell collection, a pair of 5-lb. dumbbells for some heavyhands work, a small step for some step-up work, a wooden dowel for some stretching, and a reasonable space to move forward, backwards and side to side.  Good enough to get my fitness job done when you consider the alternative of doing nothing and that’s not an alternative of interest to me.

For my record, I did have a long time out late in 2016 lasting for about three months for reasons I really can’t explain other than describing it as an extended period of fitness training lethargy.  It took me getting disgusted with myself to do something about it; glad I did starting on January 1^st.

For my record to document how quick and to the point, here’s what I did yesterday for a total workout lasting 16 minutes:

4 rounds of the following combination:  #1 = hand-to-hand swings x 30 reps using 24 kg kettlebell, then #2 = standard pushups x 12, then bodyweight full squats x 24 reps, and finally #4 = one minute of upper-body stretching. 

I allowed 4 minutes for each round and this gave me a little rest before starting the next round. 

This little combo gave me an elevated heart rate while allowing me to stay dry and “fresh” so afterwards I could get back on my work pony saddle and giddyap back to working.

Yes, I’m exercising.

Pax Domini sit semper vobiscum

500 nonstop sit-ups

It seems that lately I’ve been taking these trips down my long-ago memory lane so why quit while I’m on a roll?  Today, I’ll share another memory that’s a tad north of 50 years old.

Long ago there two television programs I used to faithfully watch each week; one was called To Tell the Truth and the other one was called What’s My Line?

To Tell the Truth was a television program that required a panel of celebrities to correctly identify a contestant who had an unusual occupation or had undergone an unusual experience.  What’s My Line? involved celebrity panelists questioning contestants to determine their occupation. 

I can’t recall which of the two programs I had watched that inspired me to try what a contestant had accomplished, setting a world record at the time.  This person had set a world record of completing the most non-stop sit-ups.  I don’t recall the exact number but very clearly remember it was 14,000 repetitions and “some change”.  Unfortunately, a quick Google search didn’t provide me any information on who this person was or the exact repetitions he completed.

This feat inspired me, as a young boy about 11-years young, to see what I could accomplish; how many repetitions of nonstop standard sit-up I could do.  So, after the television program, I placed my feet under our living room sofa and started doing sit-ups.  I vaguely recall that first night completing 100 repetitions before throwing in the towel.

But I was inspired by what I had learned so the following night I tried again.  I can’t recall how many consecutively evenings I did this but do know it wasn’t many before I lost interest and moved on to other battles to conquer in my adolescent journeys.  So, I didn’t call it quits until I had accomplished something that was good enough for me and something that, to this day, I’ve yet to repeat.

I’ll always remember that evening long, long ago when, in the comfort of our family living room, I banged out 500 nonstop sit-ups.

Pax Domini sit semper vobiscum

Grandfather time

Friday is a day of the week that generates various memories when I think about it.  As a younger person, bellowing the classic “Thank God it’s Friday” (TGIF) acronym was music to my ears and imagination when thinking about how I was soon to begin my long-awaited weekend.  Other Friday-centric memories were those couple times a year when it was Friday the 13^th, like today.

The TGIF memories changed over time but were generally more frequent when younger, beginning as a soldier in the U.S. Army and continuing when I was an employee working for someone else.  I didn’t seem to have a TGIF mindset as much once I became a self-employed stiff. 

My TGIF memories also had a bar-hopping with friends’ component to it, along with sleeping late on the weekends and having, as The Beach Boys sang, fun, fun, fun.

The Friday the 13^th thing was never that big of a deal for me as I’ve never been, nor are, superstitious.  Nevertheless, I recall being in the company of those who were so Friday the 13^th chatter inevitably became a topic of small-talk discussion.

What Friday memories is this middle-aged man making nowadays, and more specifically today?

The awesome and wonderful time I’ll soon be having today and tomorrow with a couple little fellas; it’s called grandfather time.

Pax Domini sit semper vobiscum

Butt of my dry humor

Life is a journey of personal transformation or at least it should be for both you and me.  In my transformation journey, each step along the way should ascend to a higher level.  One indication of my ascension to this higher level is how I use my dry humor to make the world a better place for all of us.

I’d say my experience being a wise-guy has been in the humor I’ve directed at others, making them the ridicule of what I’ve uttered.

This behavior has its origin going way back to my elementary school days and time on the school playground during class recess.  

It was rough and tough being a young boy surviving all the vocal assaults that would come my way from fellow classmates in what can best be described as normal adolescent young boy behavior.  

It gave me thick skin at a very young age.  It also gave me self-defense skills of being able to dish it back out.  I became a Quick Draw Magraw character in my self-defense of quickly sending one back after receiving one. 

It was so much easier doling it out, though, than being on the receiving end of cruel humor and in the process of doing so, I became good at it.  I thrived on the rush of being labeled as “cool” and clever for the wise-guy stuff I said.

These experiences formed me and so many others; we grew up to be purveyors of wise-guy comedic assaults that too often are delivered in bad taste, are cruel and disrespectful, inconsiderate and rude to say the least. 

Contrast this Don Rickles’ type of humor to that of the late and great comedian Rodney Dangerfield, whose humor was more self-deprecating in content; it evoked delight and laughter among those listening. 

Which type is better for me to deliver in my continuing journey of wanting to be a clever wise-guy capable of making life fun and jolly for those who are my audience?

It seems like it would be healthy trying something new and making me, rather than someone else the butt of my dry humor.

Pax Domini sit semper vobiscum

Good guys and bad guys

Like many other middle-aged men, I grew up watching old-school professional wrestling on our family black and white television set. It was a weekly ritual I really enjoyed beginning at a young age and continuing into my teenage years except, then, I watched on our color television set.

Reflecting so long ago, I now realize that watching these wrestling matches and getting to know the wrestlers was me moving along a make-believe mindscape that was part of my youth.  This make-believe mindscape probably began with either Santa Claus or the Tooth Fairy, next came Superman, and then Big Time Wrestling, Northern California style.

Unlike now, where World Wrestling Entertainment (WWE) dominates professional wrestling nationally and internationally, in those days professional wrestling was regional in operation. 

"U.S. Champion" Ray Stevens

Little did I know as a boy that the U.S. champion named Ray Stevens was just one of many U.S. champions scattered across various regions of the United States.  It was something unbeknownst to me and, honestly, I’m glad my boyhood innocence wasn’t robbed by this reality detail.

My memories of watching professional wrestling not only included television but later in person at our Memorial Auditorium.  I remember the “rassling” matches were held every two weeks on Wednesday evenings and general admission was $1.50.  I would regularly attend with friends and cousins who, like me, enjoyed going; but I believe my passion was the greatest among all of them.  I also recall being at school the next day and constantly talking about the previous night’s wrestling matches with friends on the playground during class recess.  I couldn’t get enough of it no matter how hard I tried.

I have fond memories of all the wrestlers who were of two types; the good guys and the bad guys.  There were also character stereotypes that the promoters capitalized on by considering the local ethnicity of its audience, and relatively-fresh World War II memories for many.

Pepper Gomez

The “Mexican” wrestlers were always good guys and were regularly asked by the announcer after their matches to say a few words in Spanish for the audience.  

The “Japanese” and “German” wrestlers were always bad guy villains and could regularly be counted on to cheat, particularly when the referee wasn’t looking; and this was often.  

The “black” wrestlers, that’s what they were called in those days, always had hard heads and gave their opponents a head butt.

Reflecting on all my memories, I realize how the wrestling promoters who carefully planned these characters and the wrestling match outcomes understood psychology better than a Ph.D. psychologist being paid big dollars to tell us we’re all nuts.  

Watching these matches as a young boy in person gave me youthful anxiety, other high-intensity emotions and tremors that haven’t been replicated decades and decades later.

I’ll always remember this cherished era in my life with so many pleasant memories of all the wrestlers I would watch on television and up front and close in person.  

Just like so many people I must confront and deal with in my life nowadays, the great wrestlers of my youthful past were good guys and bad guys.

Pax Domini sit semper vobiscum

I just want to be a bum

As I get ready to ramp up my hours during a short but intense work season about to begin and last for three months, I’m trying to get a hold of how I feel about it.

I’m very experienced and do quite well in high gear for lots of hours, and this is the result of “training” for it the past 35 plus years.  But just because I’m able to do it doesn’t mean I’m necessarily foaming from the mouth for it to begin.

The feelings I have about doing it again can be described as ambivalent.  Just to make sure I really know the dictionary definition of ambivalent, I decided to look it up and this is what I read:

Ambivalent - "Having mixed feelings or contradictory ideas about something or someone."

Yup, that's my feeling; I feel ambivalent.

The heads side of my ambivalent feeling coin is the good feeling from working hard and having lots of interaction with interesting people, and, of course, to be paid well for the hard work done.

The tails side of my ambivalent feeling coin is harder to pin down and may be driven by a generally dormant lazy gene that surfaces its ugly head when least expected.  Then, there’s this mañana gene that's also a force for me to reckon with; it's a close cousin of my lazy gene.  This tails side of my ambivalent feeling coin remind me of a person I once knew who was my age.  We thought similarly in many areas.  

I remember one day when he had lots of work to do and didn't feel like doing it.  He shared his thoughts about how this made him feel and want to do.  What he shared seems to be the same intermittent thought I've been having lately.

He shared how he really didn't feel like working, and then said, "I just want to be bum."

Pax Domini sit semper vobiscum