The Crossfit Cert was great fun.  Having already been thoroughly steeped in the methodology, I most enjoyed meeting the other CrossFitters in the region, and hanging out with the corporate types from out west:  Greg and Eva T. especially.    Tony had me on my back foot twice within five minutes of meeting him, so I tried to keep Nicole between him and I for the rest of the weekend. Heck, I was there to relax and maybe pump some iron, not engage is a battle of wits. I’ll get him back next time. (If you are asking, “who the heck are these people”, you might watch this video to catch Nicole and Eva in action.  Annie is there too. )

Heh. Who says, “Pump some Iron” anymore anyhow?

I went over 5 days without a workout, except a  few odd lifts, here and there.  There is a one-arm pull-up in my near future, if I want it. My Back Lever is pretty much on-demand, and I have a nascent front lever.      I owe a lot of this to malnutrition, causing me to lose a couple pounds, and the exposed sprinkler system in my Condo, which allowed me to hang my  rings in the living room. Because I am a dork.

Anyhow, big thanks to Crossfit.  And all the people who make it what it is.  

The show went well.  I was in three scenes.  I was supposed to be in five but “Dap Rugged” <sp?> dropped out, and some Radio Personality named “Black” showed up and took my Eklectic Jeans outfit. I would have complained, but I should have been paying attention, instead I was at the bar.  (Ordering a RedBull.    Probably I should have had a Scotch). Besides, nothing is more redundant than a whining model who whines.

That first outfit, from R World, consisted of some Rodney Dangerfieldesque ¾ length Check Pants and Baggy “Cash Money” T-Shirt. I started out strong with a bit of swagger, reaching  up to stop the Spinning disco ball, and then making long eye contact with some audience members sitting beneath it. As I exited that scene my footwork got a little tenative but on the whole, it was my best run.

The Second Outfit was some baggy jeans and a polyester tracksuit . I didn’t do enough with it.  Probably my weakest walk.  The director told me, right before I went out, to hit my first pose and then make like I was finished, but instead of walking all the way back, change dirrection midway and return to nail a few more poses.   I think I sold the halfway-back bit too much, so everyone though I genuinely made a mistake.   As if.

I finished up strong on my last scene though, by drawing on the energy of  my small cheering section that had developed in the wake of our "star model" who had pranced around shirtless for a minute*.   I wish I could have followed him directly, since I knew I would cut a nice alternative to that sort of posturing (I guess).   Anyhow, that's what I was thinking when I made my last appearance: Like I was rolling my eyes.  There were a few girls out there who seemed to get it. They cheered, and I pointed down to my shoes and mouthed, "Look at the shoes. I know its hard".

I was wearing the now world-famous chip-ann-pepper jeans, with a “Big Pimpin” T-Shit and Custom Nikes provided by Laced Up. I made a nice exit, turning back to the audience and giving them the Jimmy The Saint Goodbye Blessing. 

For the Grand Finale, I wore a KnuckleUp shirt that Morrison gave to me on my suggestion that I might be able to sneak it on stage.  I would have preferred a CrossFit shirt, of course, but I had none that fit the theme.  The KnuckleUp shirt was camouflaged, and so perfectly 'urban' that everyone thought it was a designer’s.

Gregory took a lot of pictures that I should be able to post here. Hopefully in a gallery.  I also have the cards of a few photographers, who told me they would email me any shots of me that they took.

Before the show I called “Ms Jones”, from the Reality Show blogs,  to solicit some advice.  She offered me  a gig in her next show in SF. Even though I will be there that weekend (Labor Day) I think  I have had enough Modeling for a while.  

I am not good enough to do it without more practice, and I just don’t want to put that much energy into it.  

The experience was great. Thanks for showing up to support me.   (I choose to think that’s why you came).

*I am still new to the "for a minute" expression.  For now I will only used those words if I am trying to be intentionally ambiguous.    I am a bit out of touch I guess. I called Rod up before the show asking him what brand of sneaker I needed in order to represent. I suggested Fila, and he asked if the show was taking place 12 years ago....  I trusted my gut and bought some K-Swiss. All the designers were digging on them.   Yeah, I got style for miles and miles.

Ok, tonight is the big night. I probably added you, plus one, to my guest list. So come on over to fever.  Trust me, the  three-quarter pants I will be wearing are well worth the 10 bucks.

In addition to the events I mentioned in the last post, I get to go to Vegas twice in the coming months.

And then there is this in December, from the Times UK

Hatton ....is set to challenge Juan Urango, of Colombia, for the IBF 10st title he won from Kostya Tszyu last summer.

The bout will go ahead on December 9 in the United States, possibly in Atlanta. Should he defeat Urango, who beat Naoufel Ben Rabah for the vacant title in June, talks have already taken place for a match against Jose Luis Castillo, of Mexico, in the spring, which would be the mega-bout that Hatton has dreamt of.

I promise, after this week I am going to return to the quiet life.    Enough of the Hustle and Bustle. Even if I  had time to sit on my couch and veg, I couldn’t, since it’s 80 degrees in my condo. 

San Francisco for Labor Day, and Austin shortly after for Austin City Limits.   Here is a Adrian and Kelly at Crossfit SF, getting silly with the Dead Lift.  I am training at the Crossfit Cert this weekend in Atlanta.  I tried to shore up some week spots this morning: My headstands turn to Back-Flops without pause,  and the duration of my L-Sit is quantic.

Hey, the #1 and #2 two running back spots in Denver are owned by Mike and Tatum Bell.  I need to  be the first to come up for a nick-name for this tandem.   “The Bell Ringers” is all I have come up with so far.  Email me suggestions so I might take credit for them.  (The TerrelBells!?  Plugs one and Two?  Ring and Clamor?  These are all terrible, I am just trying to get loose)

Did I mention the “The Lady in the Water” is the first M. Night Movie that I don’t recommend.  It his first serious misstep, I think.  It’s not not-entertaining, it just never finds its audience.

The Show is at Fever,  9pm, Thursday August 10th.

I can give you a half-price ticket if I see you before then. Email me for details.  

Between Crossfit and the Rehersals, I won’t have a free night until the 11^th, but with the X-fitters in town that weekend, and my own role in the cert that weekend, I doubt I will be going out much then either.

I forgot to tip my hat to phoenix for the Bad Writing award links.

I have more to say but no time.

For the sake of adding some color to this post, let me just say that Modeling, like every skill I have endevored to learn, has reaffirmed an observation I have often struggled to articulate succinctly. I think I can sum it up as this:   I do not improve on the practice field, I learn. I improve between practices.  

This holds true whether the 'practice field' is a gym, runway,  soccer field, or  video game.  Its Especially true about video games.

Which is good news, since they are making a Sequel to Star Control 2.

Is that the geekiest closing thought ever? You guys have no idea how cool that game was.  I predeict that Alex wil fly Amanda somewhere just so I can fly to Texas and play StarCon3 for a weekend.  And I haven't played a compter game in a decade. 

The Bad writing awards are up. The winner really isn't the best one (or the worst one, depending on from which way you are looking at it from)

Detective Bart Lasiter was in his office studying the light from his one small window falling on his super burrito when the door swung open to reveal a woman whose body said you've had your last burrito for a while, whose face said angels did exist, and whose eyes said she could make you dig your own grave and lick the shovel clean.

Neither is this one

As she sashayed out of the police station, her high heels clicking a staccato rhythm on the hard tile floor, like a one-armed castanet player in a very bad mariachi band, her ample bosom held in check only by a diaphanous blouse, and bouncing at each step like a 1959 tricked out Low-rider Chevy with very good hydraulics---she smiled to herself as she thought of the titillating interrogation from Detective Tipple about the Twin Peaks Melon Heist.

Wayne Spivey, Major, USAF Retired
Huntsville, Texas

 

This one is brilliant too:

Withdrawing his hand from her knee, the English professor stormed, "Ending a sentence with a preposition is the sort of nonsense up with which I will not put," although she had merely looked at his hand and asked, "What are you doing that for?" in a sentence intended to end the proposition.

Carl C. Partlow
Rancho Cucamonga,