I’m kind of a whiner. You may have noticed. My friend Stacie says, “Cool people don’t whine, they express themselves in an alternate tonality.” So, allow me to correct myself: I do not whine, I rant!
I first started ranting, I think, when I was in grade school. When I got sick and had to stay home from school, I had to stay in bed all day. It was a rule—part of the deal. When my older brother came home, he would stop in to see how I was doing. So, I told him—in my sarcastic and thorough manner. The more he’d laugh, the more I kept going. He used to say he liked me better when I was sick. You gotta love siblings.
I enjoy comedians that rant, too. George Carlin was a genius ranter. Sam Kinison was good. Dennis Miller has his moments. I especially like Dennis Leary. Of course, all of these guys swear up a storm when they rant. I would not classify Richard Pryor as a ranter. But, I laughed my fool head off listening to him. I can barely remember any of his routines, but I do remember his extensive (and might I say pioneering) use of a word that rhymes with mother duck. He is a comedic legend, but it’s the swearing that sticks with you.
It takes more than swearing or cursing to be funny. But, it can take you pretty far on its own, apparently. It seems to be a prerequisite, now. If you expect an audience to pay good money to sit and listen to you for any considerable length of time, you better swear at them. They want you to. Apparently, they just don’t hear enough of that in their everyday life. Strange, says I, since so many people can’t form a complete sentence without every other word rhyming with duck, ducking, ducker, or ducked. I haven’t yet determined if they can’t relate to a comedian that doesn’t talk like them or if they feel repressed in their own expression and want to hear someone say the things they cannot. Either way, it has become a crutch for both the entertainers and the entertained… unless you’re in to that kind of thing. It seems to be working, either way.
For the record, I would hope that those who know me would describe me as someone who does not swear all the time. But, I can’t say I never do. I have a short temper and general impatience that do get the better of me. Those same people would probably admit that they have heard me curse—even “the queen mother of dirty words” as Ralphie defined it in A Christmas Story. And, for the record, I’m not the guy who is going to jump down your throat if I hear you get your duck on. I will even laugh along with you—which is often why you are saying it—or commiserate, as the case may be. I visited New York City when I was 21 and picked up an accent within an hour. I couldn’t help it. It was a strange phenomenon for me, and I now realize that I do that wherever I go without trying to. So, there ya go.
There was a time when the only Dennis Leary I knew was this guy that did MTV commercials. There he was with his cigarette unleashing more words in 15 seconds than most of the audience watching had ever written in their longest school papers. Brilliantly funny. And, of course, since this was not premium cable, he could not swear. But, you got the impression that the repression was about to cause him to explode. He paced and he sucked on that cigarette the way most of us would have to inhale throughout such a monologue. And he just RANTED. I don’t remember any of it, specifically. I just remember the style. I DO, however, remember when he reprised the shtick for the movie Demolition Man. He had the ultra-cool role as the “leader” of the underground (literally). Which, is to say, that he was enemy #1 to the powers that be, but was actually the person you really wanted in charge. I had that monologue recorded and memorized at one point in my life. I also owned his “Lock n Load” cd at one time. These days, he has a major role in a critically acclaimed drama on cable that I haven’t seen, but he also does voice-over work for Ford Trucks that remind me of why I like him.
Dennis Miller actually had an “album” called “Ranting Again” which I owned. What I really liked, though, was the one episode of his talk show that I remember where he ranted about the f-word itself. Genius. I can’t repeat any of it. Did you ever see the movie, Planes, Trains, and Automobiles? Steve Martin has that classic scene born out of extreme frustration… “You can start by wiping that f’ing dumbass smile off your rosy f’ing cheeks. Then you can give me a f’ing automobile! I don’t care what f’ing color…” LMFAO.
Mark Twain is quoted as saying: “Under certain circumstances, urgent circumstances, desperate circumstances, profanity provides a relief denied even to prayer.” I completely understand. On the other hand, I happen to know that prayer is way more effective. Actually, it’s almost a stretch that we even call it “cursing” and “swearing.” A curse is something, say, a voodoo witch would do. They "put a curse on you." They call down the powers of evil to cause negative things to happen to you. And that is the problem, right there. Evil powers do actually exist and if you are calling on them… well, God has a problem with that. I don’t do that. I don’t want that for anybody. At least, not that literally or with such malice. Yet, for some reason, I tend to curse THINGS. Like, when tools don’t work or stuff breaks at work or at home, I think or say stuff that might give onlookers the impression that I believed the thing was alive and deliberately mocking me. The most pathetic part of all of this is that it suggests that I must believe all that cursing will make the thing “behave” more properly. What does a hunk of steel care what I think about it? Actual swearing is like taking an oath you could never really deliver on. People “swear on their mother’s grave” or “swear on the Bible” which is supposed to convince listeners that what they are saying is not a lie. For the record, I’m almost never convinced. How do you know if someone is lying? Their lips are moving. But the Bible calls this practice “swearing” and advises to simply not do it. Let your yes be yes and your no be no and stop trying to give more weight to your words than they deserve (to paraphrase James 5:12.)
I have said before that since stress is so unhealthy and physiologically damaging, I use sarcasm strictly for medicinal purposes. I happen to think sarcasm is funny. Some people don’t. Usually, I see a correlation that they are not particularly funny or even fun people. It could just be a personal preference, I don’t know. I DO know that not everyone “gets” a joke all the time. I pretty much think people that don’t like sarcasm just lack the proper sense of humor. Pttthhbbbb!
What I’m saying is that I don’t swear to give my words more weight. If anything, I “swear” to lace my words with more humor. I’m not trying to make you sick like me, I’m trying to make you laugh about me being sick. Hey, whatever makes you laugh…
Friday, February 19, 2010
Friday, February 5, 2010
The Joy of Running
I hate running.
It’s SO boring. Entire industries have been created because running is actually boring. How many IPods have been sold to compete with the boredom of running? Before the IPod, millions of CD players were sold for the same reason, and people bought several of them, each time buying into a new promise that it would skip less than the last one as it jogged along. Nike + exists because running is boring. Talking shoes--they don’t just talk (which would make it even worse) but they “encourage” runners. They inform you how far you’ve gone and how far you have to go… stuff like that. How much would you pay someone to run with you and say the same things? But, THAT would be ridiculous, right?
People buy all kinds of different “running apparel” to cope with the fact that they would go insane if they didn’t do SOMETHING about their issues with running. The jogging suit has changed considerably over the years. There was a time when Hip Hop fans wore fancy expensive jogging suits as everyday apparel. They didn’t run at all. They are not THAT stupid. The suits were comfortable, stylish, distinguished… it was like the suits evolved faster than the running itself. Clothes designed to make the whole experience more bearable actually made buyers realize that the best way to do that was to forgo doing it in the first place. Genius.
Running and evolution have an interconnected DNA. People have been running as long as they have existed. There was a time when people ran for two reasons: to catch food or to avoid being food. Running has historically been absolutely necessary for both reasons. The corollary of that is that people have been finding was to avoid doing it just as long. People domesticated animals to avoid having to chase them. We also domesticated them so we could ride on them when it was necessary to chase other animals. I don’t think many people, historically, actually ran to get from one place to another. At least, not for long distances. We walked. Or, we rode our domesticated animals. Or, we found other ways to accomplish stuff that did not involve travel at all—like sending a domesticated pigeon. Or a postman. I prefer a text, myself. I’ve never seen a postman run his route.
So, why do people run marathons? It’s pretty stupid, if you think about it. The only reason we call it a marathon or set it at 26.2 miles is that the first person, on record, to do it died when he finished. He was a messenger (aka a domesticated human animal) sent to inform the recipient that they won the war. I’m not sure whether it was his idea or his job description, but he ran the distance rather than, say, walking it or riding a horse. Whatever his logic, it killed him. So, naturally, it has occurred to millions of people since then that they just HAD to try THAT! Woo hoo!
So, is that like a death wish? But, then, people will jump out of a perfectly good airplane for the thrill of it. To them, it’s not a death wish so much as thrill seeking. Because, you know, it might be awesome to go through it and actually survive. “Mere mortals have died doing this. Clearly, I am the epitome of awesome.” Some people walk barefoot on burning coals, others run… over normal-temperature surfaces, in high-tech shoes for extended distances. It’s the same.
That’s why I do it, of course: because it makes me awesome. Are you impressed? Clearly, millions of people are. Marathons are not just events for highly competitive, highly trained athletes to race each other and the clock simultaneously. The percentage of them in the crowd is extremely miniscule. No, millions of people run marathons each year and could not really care less what their time is or who finishes ahead of them. They run for “personal” reasons. Many do it as part of a larger exercise program or goal. The race itself is a motivation for slogging through the boredom for some metaphysical benefit. Some run to support a cause or another runner. If you’re going to run, it also helps to have crowds along the way cheering you on, particularly if they also don’t care about your position or time. Or, people run for a physiological benefit. And this is what we (humans) have become. We have avoided running for so long—because we COULD! HELLO?!!—that we have actually had to force it back on to ourselves or face “death” for some other reason than lack of food or becoming food ourselves. We even say stuff like, “You are what you eat” because we have made food acquisition so easy that we “are” fat, sugary, crème puffs… if you will. Thus, we run AWAY from our food… in a way. You may have to think about that one. Evolution is not as logical as you have been told.
I will say this about running: it’s hard to fake it. You can “bike” for 26.2 miles, or even double that, but in the process you can coast from time to time, especially downhill. Sure, physics suggest that you can only coast because you first provided the energy to sustain that motion in the first place. Sorta the same applies to rollerblading, if less so. When you stop moving your running legs, you stop. You cover zero distance until you start running again. You can slow down to the point of walking, even walking very slowly. But, you can’t coast. Some people “run” marathons at speeds that could easily be achieved by simply walking. Not that walking that far is very easy to do without practice, either. But, it’s easier to do than running at 6mph or faster.
6mph is arbitrary, granted. I chose 6mph for pragmatic reasons. 6mph means you are running one mile every ten minutes. You can easily understand how you are doing even if your odometer is measuring tenths of a mile (1 minute each). Also, I am forced to move my legs faster than I can “walk” when I keep that pace. More importantly, whether running for a specific distance or calorie count, the faster I run, the sooner I get it all over-with. If I could run at 10mph for a long enough time, believe me, I would.
But, I am miserable the whole time. In order to do it, I have to find some inner strength and motivation. That sounds way more impressive than the reality. For one thing, as all runners learn, there is a physiological phenomenon known as “second wind.” What that means is, if you think you could never start running because you would die trying, you’re half right. For the first mile or so, you will feel certain, slow death overtaking you. But, that feeling reaches a plateau, and after that your only real obstacle is the boredom. Well, your knees could buckle or your shins could ache or your side might feel ready to rupture—but ASIDE from all that, you won’t really get more winded. Somehow, the lungs are whipped into some form of submission and they continue to function at that necessary level rather than cause you to pass out and regain your sanity unconsciously. You may have to work up to it over several sessions, but it’s there. In a way, it’s a betrayal rather than a motivation, but I digress.
My real motivation, evidently, is anger. Hatred is more specific, I think. I hate running so much I refuse to submit to it. So, I fight against it. It tells me to stop. I run past it. It tells me I’m wasting my time. I waste more time. It tells me I have more interesting things I could do. I start yelling profanities at it. Oh, did I mention that I run in the privacy of my basement? My wife joined a gym. Many people join gyms. My wife thinks that men at the gym are funny (in an annoying way) when they grunt while lifting weights. Well, it’s better than listening to my steady tirade of profanities. But, I’ll spare everyone that one. So, yeah, I get the job done… in a miserable, grumpy, horrific haze of unpleasantries.
I’ll bet you love running, don’t you? Then, I hate you, too. BAH! Ok, not really.
It’s SO boring. Entire industries have been created because running is actually boring. How many IPods have been sold to compete with the boredom of running? Before the IPod, millions of CD players were sold for the same reason, and people bought several of them, each time buying into a new promise that it would skip less than the last one as it jogged along. Nike + exists because running is boring. Talking shoes--they don’t just talk (which would make it even worse) but they “encourage” runners. They inform you how far you’ve gone and how far you have to go… stuff like that. How much would you pay someone to run with you and say the same things? But, THAT would be ridiculous, right?
People buy all kinds of different “running apparel” to cope with the fact that they would go insane if they didn’t do SOMETHING about their issues with running. The jogging suit has changed considerably over the years. There was a time when Hip Hop fans wore fancy expensive jogging suits as everyday apparel. They didn’t run at all. They are not THAT stupid. The suits were comfortable, stylish, distinguished… it was like the suits evolved faster than the running itself. Clothes designed to make the whole experience more bearable actually made buyers realize that the best way to do that was to forgo doing it in the first place. Genius.
Running and evolution have an interconnected DNA. People have been running as long as they have existed. There was a time when people ran for two reasons: to catch food or to avoid being food. Running has historically been absolutely necessary for both reasons. The corollary of that is that people have been finding was to avoid doing it just as long. People domesticated animals to avoid having to chase them. We also domesticated them so we could ride on them when it was necessary to chase other animals. I don’t think many people, historically, actually ran to get from one place to another. At least, not for long distances. We walked. Or, we rode our domesticated animals. Or, we found other ways to accomplish stuff that did not involve travel at all—like sending a domesticated pigeon. Or a postman. I prefer a text, myself. I’ve never seen a postman run his route.
So, why do people run marathons? It’s pretty stupid, if you think about it. The only reason we call it a marathon or set it at 26.2 miles is that the first person, on record, to do it died when he finished. He was a messenger (aka a domesticated human animal) sent to inform the recipient that they won the war. I’m not sure whether it was his idea or his job description, but he ran the distance rather than, say, walking it or riding a horse. Whatever his logic, it killed him. So, naturally, it has occurred to millions of people since then that they just HAD to try THAT! Woo hoo!
So, is that like a death wish? But, then, people will jump out of a perfectly good airplane for the thrill of it. To them, it’s not a death wish so much as thrill seeking. Because, you know, it might be awesome to go through it and actually survive. “Mere mortals have died doing this. Clearly, I am the epitome of awesome.” Some people walk barefoot on burning coals, others run… over normal-temperature surfaces, in high-tech shoes for extended distances. It’s the same.
That’s why I do it, of course: because it makes me awesome. Are you impressed? Clearly, millions of people are. Marathons are not just events for highly competitive, highly trained athletes to race each other and the clock simultaneously. The percentage of them in the crowd is extremely miniscule. No, millions of people run marathons each year and could not really care less what their time is or who finishes ahead of them. They run for “personal” reasons. Many do it as part of a larger exercise program or goal. The race itself is a motivation for slogging through the boredom for some metaphysical benefit. Some run to support a cause or another runner. If you’re going to run, it also helps to have crowds along the way cheering you on, particularly if they also don’t care about your position or time. Or, people run for a physiological benefit. And this is what we (humans) have become. We have avoided running for so long—because we COULD! HELLO?!!—that we have actually had to force it back on to ourselves or face “death” for some other reason than lack of food or becoming food ourselves. We even say stuff like, “You are what you eat” because we have made food acquisition so easy that we “are” fat, sugary, crème puffs… if you will. Thus, we run AWAY from our food… in a way. You may have to think about that one. Evolution is not as logical as you have been told.
I will say this about running: it’s hard to fake it. You can “bike” for 26.2 miles, or even double that, but in the process you can coast from time to time, especially downhill. Sure, physics suggest that you can only coast because you first provided the energy to sustain that motion in the first place. Sorta the same applies to rollerblading, if less so. When you stop moving your running legs, you stop. You cover zero distance until you start running again. You can slow down to the point of walking, even walking very slowly. But, you can’t coast. Some people “run” marathons at speeds that could easily be achieved by simply walking. Not that walking that far is very easy to do without practice, either. But, it’s easier to do than running at 6mph or faster.
6mph is arbitrary, granted. I chose 6mph for pragmatic reasons. 6mph means you are running one mile every ten minutes. You can easily understand how you are doing even if your odometer is measuring tenths of a mile (1 minute each). Also, I am forced to move my legs faster than I can “walk” when I keep that pace. More importantly, whether running for a specific distance or calorie count, the faster I run, the sooner I get it all over-with. If I could run at 10mph for a long enough time, believe me, I would.
But, I am miserable the whole time. In order to do it, I have to find some inner strength and motivation. That sounds way more impressive than the reality. For one thing, as all runners learn, there is a physiological phenomenon known as “second wind.” What that means is, if you think you could never start running because you would die trying, you’re half right. For the first mile or so, you will feel certain, slow death overtaking you. But, that feeling reaches a plateau, and after that your only real obstacle is the boredom. Well, your knees could buckle or your shins could ache or your side might feel ready to rupture—but ASIDE from all that, you won’t really get more winded. Somehow, the lungs are whipped into some form of submission and they continue to function at that necessary level rather than cause you to pass out and regain your sanity unconsciously. You may have to work up to it over several sessions, but it’s there. In a way, it’s a betrayal rather than a motivation, but I digress.
My real motivation, evidently, is anger. Hatred is more specific, I think. I hate running so much I refuse to submit to it. So, I fight against it. It tells me to stop. I run past it. It tells me I’m wasting my time. I waste more time. It tells me I have more interesting things I could do. I start yelling profanities at it. Oh, did I mention that I run in the privacy of my basement? My wife joined a gym. Many people join gyms. My wife thinks that men at the gym are funny (in an annoying way) when they grunt while lifting weights. Well, it’s better than listening to my steady tirade of profanities. But, I’ll spare everyone that one. So, yeah, I get the job done… in a miserable, grumpy, horrific haze of unpleasantries.
I’ll bet you love running, don’t you? Then, I hate you, too. BAH! Ok, not really.
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