We are a commune of inquiring, skeptical, politically centrist, capitalist, anglophile, traditionalist New England Yankee humans, humanoids, and animals with many interests beyond and above politics. Each of us has had a high-school education (or GED), but all had ADD so didn't pay attention very well, especially the dogs. Each one of us does "try my best to be just like I am," and none of us enjoys working for others, including for Maggie, from whom we receive neither a nickel nor a dime. Freedom from nags, cranks, government, do-gooders, control-freaks and idiots is all that we ask for.
You have to credit the Left: Its strategy is deft. If you can make enough noise that sounds approximately like a moral crisis, then you can in effect create a moral crisis. Never mind that the underlying argument — “Something bad has happened to somebody else, and so you must give us something we want!” — is entirely specious; it is effective.
Cannibals love your stored fat. It sizzles merrily on the grill. It is difficult to burn off during life. Best to have little of it, and maybe the cannibals will leave you alone.
I saw that my three kids are a team. They are all quite different in interests, temperament, etc., but they support each other, help each other, enjoy each other, text each other, love each other. Bonded despite all of their differences in literary tastes and curiousnesses. Fortunately but probably not by accident, we all have dwellings within 40 miles of each other (2 have beginning NYC careers, and the third did but moved on/out). My theory is that every kid needs to confront NYC at least in youth. Good for humility if nothing else.
As readers know, I get a huge kick out of NYC. Have theater tix for next Sat., and dinner, which is good, but just wandering around is a blast for a country boy like me.
It is a comfort and a pleasure to a middle-aged fellow to see that they will remain a bonded family when we parents are dead and gone. I imagine their future Thanksgivings and Christmases, and maybe continuing the ritual Cape Cod family reunions with our annual family morning Wellfleet Triathlon with all of my sibs and any available kids (bike around 15 miles ending up at Long Pond, race across Long Pond and back maybe 1/2 mile or more and try not to drown, then run about 7 miles back home for a hearty breakfast. Better yet, to the Lighthouse for blueberry pancakes, bacon and eggs). Family traditions are important life foundations. Body-surfing in the ocean in the cool north Atlantic. The annual family baseball was good too. Batter Up! My Mom at 84! She knew how to hit a baseball and to do lots of other things too.
Their being fond of, and grateful to, their parents is good too. Already, they will drop anything to give us a hand when needed. Blessed, I guess. Will do the same for them as best we can.
- He claims that the harder you exercise, the more your appetite tends to diminish. I find that to be true. He had to ask Mrs. BD to make sure I eat four bites of protein daily at the least, for nourishment. Like a hard-boiled egg or a slice of ham. I don't want it and I often don't do it. As I have reported, he works me quite hard so that I stumble out of there with weariness and muscles burning. I don't want to eat hardly anything anymore. He insists I have to have at least a small amount of carbs daily too, but I usually just don't want it. It's an interesting phenomenon. All I want is water and caffeine, and a little wholesome (organic) Indian tobacco. Before this process began, I was mostly ready for anything tasty (but nothing suqary) despite having no meaningful weight issue. Now, I have little appetite and can never come close to finishing a really nice restaurant meal. I try to force it to be sociable, but I can't do it. Everything is a doggy bag worth two more left-over suppers. We go out to places with friends often, weekly at least, and I feel embarrassed by how little delicious stuff I want.
- He seems to feel I can lose another few lbs or so, around my middle. I can see what he means, but my trousers are already trying to fall off. Says it can only be done by the right diet - meat and eggs, low carbs. No problem. He says people tend to feel that they have to finish their meals - whatever they are served - and thus lose their sense of what is sufficient. They ignore the moment when any hunger they may have felt is gone and disconnect from their bodies. Stop then. Don't just go on eating mindlessly until the thing is finished, as if somebody else was in control of you. "Clean your plate" was a Depression-era admonishment for children which created two generations of fat people. What is sufficient to maintain, even under a rigorous fitness program, is not very much as long as it is protein-heavy in proportion. Buffets are the worst.
- He says "Lite Aerobics," like fast walking, jogging, road bicycling, or 40 minutes on the elliptical or the treadmill, are better than sedentary but not valuable for building fitness, endurance, or for fat-burning. They can keep you mobile but not improve fitness. He says ten minutes of maximum-intensity aerobics is much better. For now, for my "off-days" he likes 10 min intense bike for warm-up, then a rest, then 10 mins intense elliptical, then maybe 5-10 mins intense rowing. Or 2 out of the 3, mix and match. Efficient exercise. I still cannot do 10 mins of intense elliptical but I can do "relaxed" elliptical for an hour. Waste of time, he says - and boring. I am also told by my doc that it is the intensity which burns a little fat, enhances endurance, and induces collateral cardiac supply (which will help you survive your first heart attack). Those are good things. Gotta feel the burn or it isn't worth your time. No pain, no gain. That applies to all exercise, apparently. Brief, high intensity for resistance or for cardio rather than time spent. My doc is in great shape.
- Factoid to remember: Even high-intensity aerobics, verging on anaerobic, will not burn your fat if you have carbs on board. Your body preferentially burns bagels over body fat. It's easier because carbs become sugar - cheap energy - during digestion. A bagel = sugar.
- Overloading muscles is the only way to improve strength. You injure your muscles, and they come back stronger. That strength is what improves endurance. A surprising amount of that "good" damage comes from the Eccentric Phase of weight exercises - not when you are pulling or pushing, but when you are doing the opposite in a slow, controlled fashion. He thinks I am ready for "Negative Reps." He advised me not to bother with high-rep exercises.
Well, it's all interesting physiology. Physiology is a fascinating topic.
Seen in a friend's driveway in CT this weekend. I always love to see snakes, even the poisonous ones we have around these parts - Copperheads and Rattlers. But this guy isn't that.
My Dad had good snake eyes. He once found us a baby Timber Rattler about 8" long.
Who is to blame for this? Weenie Dads? Tort lawyers? Government? Mom-headed households? Truth is, when I was ten I would disappear all day on bikes with friends, exploring woods, swimming illegally in reservoirs, building forts (snowball fights in winter, rock and stick wars in summer), shooting BB guns, fishing, sailing a Sailfish, playing vacant-lot baseball, shooting hoops on the asphalt-covered schoolyard, enjoying occasional fistfights, stealing candy from the candy shop, smoking cigarettes stolen from parents, teasing girls (mainly the ones we liked). Home by dark of course. That was the rule.
Normal stuff. The wife says I turned out fine.
If your kid doesn't come home dirty and bruised, with a mouth full of lies and the occasional broken bone, it's a shame. But I guess the boys play video games all day now and rot their brains.
I posted about the Cumberland Swing a few weeks ago. The good guy who makes those heavy swings for covered porches is excellent but has trouble finding time to make them. The Porch Swing Company makes similar ones for half the price. Perhaps not built for a 200-year life, but pleasant. Made by Amish.
In England, they call it "garden croquet" as opposed to formal croquet on a graded, manicured court.
We have neither a backyard pool nor a backyard tennis court, but we have an outdoor ping-pong table in the barn and, of course, a good English croquet set.
A fun town to visit. Historic and salty. Been there a number of times. Excellent seafood restaurants, jolly pubs, comfortable antique hotels and B&Bs, and interesting architecture. Interestingly, also the oldest synagogue in America as was noted by George Washington. People like to visit the grand old "cottages" but they aren't too interesting to me although I guess you have to do it once.
A few friends of ours have recently bought weekend homes there. I don't want one but it is a pleasant location with plenty of good social activity around clubs and boats.
Salt Water New England - whoever she is - was there this week. Nice boat. Good photos. Too bad she didn't stop by the important and elegant Newport Flower Show where she might have met Mrs. BD and her good pals. Mrs. BD would have stayed longer for the parties, etc. but we have a wedding today. That magnificent show attracts people from all over the US and Europe and they even bus them in from the airport.
“Normative
sociology, the study of what the causes of problems ought to be,
greatly fascinates us all” - See more at:
http://marginalrevolution.com/marginalrevolution/2015/06/normative-sociology.html#sthash.I4faI8Ij.dpuf
Oh, East is East, and West is West, and never the twain shall meet Till Earth and Sky stand presently at God's great Judgment Seat; But there is neither East nor West, Border, nor Breed, nor Birth, When two strong men stand face to face, tho' they come from the ends of the earth!
Kamal is out with twenty men to raise the Border-side, And he has lifted the Colonel's mare that is the Colonel's pride: He has lifted her out of the stable-door between the dawn and the day, And turned the calkins upon her feet, and ridden her far away. Then up and spoke the Colonel's son that led a troop of the Guides: "Is there never a man of all my men can say where Kamal hides?" Then up and spoke Mahommed Khan, the son of the Ressaldar: "If ye know the track of the morning-mist, ye know where his pickets are. At dusk he harries the Abazai -- at dawn he is into Bonair, But he must go by Fort Bukloh to his own place to fare, So if ye gallop to Fort Bukloh as fast as a bird can fly, By the favour of God ye may cut him off ere he win to the Tongue of Jagai. But if he be past the Tongue of Jagai, right swiftly turn ye then, For the length and the breadth of that grisly plain is sown with Kamal's men.
In Germany, the Autobahn between Stuttgart and Munich is used by the auto industry for their high speed test tracks. The Germans have three types of divided highways, limited access, freeways, and the Autobahn. All have speed limits except the Autobahn. The thing that surprised me was, at least the last time I was there, you are not allowed to pass on the right, which both the motorcycles and the Audi did in the video. The highest speed traffic is to be in the left lane and if you are overtaking another vehicle you are to flash your lights and the other vehicle is to move to the right allowing you to pass.
This will give you your Go Fast high for the day. The guy in the Audi is nuts and the guy on the bike makes the Audi guy look sane. It's worth visiting Germany just to enjoy the freedom of the Autobahn, but you can do the same in Italy if you feel like it.
In Italia, you ignore the speed limits and all of the other rules. Nobody cares. In fact, the road is considered a place for fun.
In America, most people want to look good and to feel good. It's not narcissism so much as it is a cultural standard and a cultural expectation. Nobody likes to look in the mirror nude and think "I look like a mess," or to go on an adventure and feel tired.
It seems to me that decent, spirited people always aspire to improve their souls, their brains and knowledge, their fitness, their appearance, their skills, their morals, their relationships, etc. etc. Giving up is not cool and shows no respect for God's gifts - and surely nobody wants their teeth to indicate that they might be from England or Bosnia.
NYC: Hooray for the High Bridge -
Man Who 
Are Humanities Degrees Doomed? 
In England, they call it "garden croquet" as opposed to formal croquet on a graded, manicured court.