Social Virus

Privacy is dead.

Conversations used to be limited to the people involved. Heck, conversations used to be verbal and limited to those within earshot. Now they are global. We have never communicated so much but said so little.

Text messaging, Facebook, Twitter, Google+, Chat Roulette and all the derivatives make your conversations and interactions a living thing. It’s a virus that can’t be killed. It’s not just the latest Bieber video or a lip-syncing, light-saber swinging fat-kid whose video ‘goes viral’. It’s your opinion, out of context, bad grammar and all that lives on.

There is no concept of delete anymore. It has become a synonym for ‘hide’. Just because you can’t see it, it doesn’t mean it isn’t there. It lives, it breathes and it spawns like a Gremlin in water. Years ago, even if you wrote it down, you could destroy it and it would end. Now, it’s an endless game of whack-a-mole and you’re not fast enough to keep up.

What you text Susie today, pisses off Sally tonight and before the bell rings to start the morning, half the school (if you’re lucky) knows what’s going down. People thrive on drama, everyone sees it, everyone wants a piece of it, and your innocent comment has multiplied into 1000s of conversations and comments, most of which you are not part of, you are simply the subject.

Trust is dead.

Despite the wealth of experiences teenagers have to draw upon to make their many prudent decisions ………………………………………………………………… (Sorry, I had to pause to wash the sarcasm off of me) they still haven’t learned what trust is. You know what; it’s unfair to single them out because in fact, I am convinced MOST people don’t know.  Trust isn't always about integrity. Trust isn't just about whether you think the person would lie to you or that they would never hurt you.  We hurt our loved ones all the time and never do we mean it. You can believe in someone and know they are honest, but are they careless? Are they a bit of a gossip?

Your trust is wasted on your friends when electronic communications are involved. They WILL fail you. It won’t be intentional and certainly not malicious, but their carelessness with their phone, their passwords or their own misplaced trust in someone else will betray you.

They share their phones and kill their privacy. They share their passwords and kill their privacy. They CC the wrong person and kill their privacy. But it doesn’t stop there. Just like a virus it spreads to kill the privacy of everyone they’ve ever had an electronic conversation with. They’ve exposed their friends and family. They've exposed you and they didn't mean to.

Even if you truly trust someone, keep it verbal. ‘He said/she said’ is a much better game to play then ‘I didn’t really mean the exact words I typed, I actually meant something else entirely when I said you have a fat ass and buck teeth. That totally came across wrong.’ It’s a social game for sure, but it’s like comparing hide-and-seek to Russian roulette. I’d take hide-and-seek or flashlight tag (TV-tag was my favorite) any day of the week over potentially blowing my head off.

“So what do you suggest, genius?”

Let’s all try this. If you wouldn't say it to someone’s face, don’t put it in a text… or email… or Facebook… or a tweet to them or anyone else. You can have your negative opinion of others. You can voice it to them if you respect them enough and you feel it could be a productive conversation. Or you can simply voice it to someone you trust. Go ahead and vent. Just don’t ‘send’ it.

Dirty Habits

So late last night I am on a mission in search of either Robin with a motorcycle or the Green Lantern plane. The new 4 year old of the house, at the 11th hour, made his wants very clear of what he was expecting on his birthday. Neither of these were amongst the great stuff I had already gotten him. So off to various locations searching and hoping.

Around 10pm I found myself outside of a Walmart. Who knew so many people went shopping for groceries, lawn care, car care, electronics and clothing at such an hour on a Monday. (I won't bother mentioning personal hygiene products as I suspect no one there actually uses them)

As I walk in a guy and his friend are walking through the automatic doors fumbling with their pack of cigarettes. They were apparently unable to hold back the urge brought on by everyday low prices. So as guy #1 puts his '40' of Budweiser under his arm he drops a lone Marlboro on the pavement. Guy #2, the gentlemen that he is, shifts his case of Natty Light to his other hand and swoops down to recover his comrade's fallen tobacco stick. Not to be out done by Guy #2's obvious Ninja training, Guy #1 had deftly, mid-shuffle, whacked another butt out of the carton and into his mouth. By the time Ninja Guy handed the cigarette back to his buddy, Guy #1 was already striking the lighter. Poetry in motion!

What came next is what astonished me the most. Already in awe of the split second martial artistry I had been privileged to witness, I could not turn away as I overheard Guy #1's response to his pal's chivalry. "Naw, Dude. I ain't gonna smoke that after it's been on the ground." And in a single sweeping motion snatched the cigarette from his hand like a pebble from the hand of a sensei and tossed it back to the ground…

I would love to tell you that a sword fight or Ninja melee broke out after such an insult but alas, nothing. Guy #1 and Guy #2 were mortal again. I entered the cool expanse of the Super Wal-mart and through my disappointment I could not help reflecting on that moment with a single thought… 'Dude, it's a $#@%& cigarette! Getting it dirty is the least of your worries! Heck, licking the dirt off of it is probably better for you than lighting it!'

And yes… I found the Green Lantern plane. Mission accomplished.

Deck of Cards

For several years I have been looking for an exercise program that not only keeps me fit (or as the years have progressed, GETS me fit again), but it keeps me engaged to the point that it becomes habit. It's fun and I want to do it to the point that if I don't, I feel something is missing. Trudging to the gym each morning, or on lunch, or after work, or after the kids go to bed, every other day but twice on Wed except in a leap year or using any other contrived method to convince myself that 'this time will be different' has not quite produced the results I've expected. Round may be a shape, but it's not the shape I was aiming for.

My biggest obstacle is of course my own self-discipline, or lack there of. How do can I overcome my perceived laziness and apathy? What I've come up with so far is this. If the 'need' to exercise feels more like the 'need' to do homework or mow the lawn, you probably haven't chosen the right plan for you and you are more likely to fail. But if you can find a program, sport or activity that fulfills some inner need or compulsion, then exercise won't feel like work and it will become a natural part of you. You don't have to be convinced to play video games, golf or read a book. You just want to do it. Why can't exercise be the same way?

For once, I think I might have found that program for me. Two weeks ago today I started the 60 Day Challenge Class at Dynamic Strength and Conditoning. For 3-4 weeks prior I was taking a FIT class 2-3 nights a week. Dynamic SC provides functional conditioning. They work on 'movement not muscles'. There is no isolation of certain muscles groups, 'back/bicep' or 'chest/tricep' days, no mirrors and NO MACHINES. You learn to move your body with and without resistance. The changes become apparent in your daily activities before they will be seen on the scale or in the mirror. I have found that I can keep up with the kids and take on more house/yard work in this past month than I could before. These sorts of changes are often overlooked when we choose an exercise program. Would I rather have a six-pack or would I rather be able to keep up with the typical trials of life? Why not both? Bench presses, 'dread'-mills and preacher curls won't give me both.

To me, 'Dynamic' is the operative word at Dynamic Strength and Conditoning. Most classes use a 40:20 or 30:30 Tabata interval of 5-6 exercises. However once a week or so, without warning, we break format and get challenged to push ourselves in new ways.

This morning's 60 Day Challenge Class was a rather unique one called 'Deck of Cards'. We had 4 exercises assigned to each suit of a standard deck of cards. The number on the card is the number of reps of that exercise. Face cards are 10 reps and Ace is 11. The deck was shuffled and split in 3 to give us a 2min break between each 'round'. The exercises were (you can check YouTube or dynamicsc.com for videos of some of these exercises) Burpees, sit and reach w/ medicine ball, Hindu squats and Kettlebell swings. Because the deck was shuffled, we had times where we did the same exercise 2-3 times in a row or even 4 out of 6 cards. When that exerice is a Burpee card and it's a face card, you get cooked pretty quickly.

It's the daily challenge and curiosity that keeps me going. I am not going in for 'chest/tricep' day on Monday and elliptical machine Wednesday. I am heading into the unknown 3 times a week at 7am and I am feeling great. I couldn't get out of bed before 7:30 before, now I have a hard time sleeping between 5-6am out of anticipation for the day's class.

Our lives are like a deck of cards. As each hour or day 'flips' we have a new tasks at varying intensity to overcome. Just look at my weekend. Friday afternoon volleyball in the heat, all day painting and housework on Saturday, playing with 'the boy' most of Sunday AM, playing in the pool all of Sunday afternoon with the kids. Never tired, never exhausted. Had that been my weekend 6 weeks ago, I probably would have been too sore to leave the house by Sunday AM and I would have missed the quality time with the kids. But here it was 6am on a Monday and I bounded out of bed looking for a Challenge.This program is more than just a fitness class, it's an ace up my sleeve everyday.

[NOTE: My weekend was a stroll compared to Kevin Buckley's (owner of DynamicSC) weekend. He came in 36th out of 200 on the Mt Ascutney race on Saturday then rode up Mt Washington on Sunday. Check it out here: http://dynamicstrength.blogspot.com/ ]

Racist Robots??

So I am reading a couple reviews of the new Transformers movie and I find one that claims that two of the robots are blatant examples of racism. Racism? Against who? Orange and green people that drink unleaded? It's a freakin' alien robot movie, not social commentary!!

I assume the criticism is due to the 'ghetto', 'hip-hop', 'rap', 'urban slang' or 'street' speech these apparent mechanical stereotypes prefer to converse in. Now I am not one to spend much time watching MTV, but I have seen plenty of teenage kids of many different races blabbering this same way while I am channel surfing.

Is the speech idiotic? Yes. Was it an irritating part of the flick? You betcha! Was it racist??? I can't see how. I am mean what race are we talking about specifically? I couldn't decipher it. Was it 'poseur-ism'?

poseurism [poh-zur-iz-uhm]- hatred or intolerance of anyone that attempts to impress others by assuming or affecting a manner, sentiment, etc., other than his or her true one. (It may not have been a real word before, but it is now.)

Perhaps, these robotic nincompoops weren't an example of director Michael Bay's insensitivity, but rather an example of the critic's own veiled racism. Or perhaps it was simply a jab from a pretentious nitwit upset that his only connection to the outside world is his internet connection and the pizza delivery guy.

But hey, who am I to talk? If Transformers 3 has a pale, indecisive robot with a potbelly that gets winded every time he transforms into a sleep sofa, I'll probably be the first to be offended and boycott the movie... unless the trailer kicks ass.

Word Phobia

Last night at dinner my 13 year old and her friend tell us about an exercise her class was required to complete in school the other day. A guidance counselor and/or some other concerned adult affiliated with the school paid a visit to the class to discuss the derogatory use of the word 'gay' and how offensive it is. They had the kids create little skits to perform for the class to show ways in which the word can be used to be hurtful, but also to have them think about ways in which they can be a positive influence to stop such hateful speech.  Not sure that drama skits and mini-lectures one day out of the year really drives home the point.  My guess is that it brought on more jokes as well as fodder for post-school text messages, but the intent was admirable.

To the school's credit, they did not discuss what it means to be gay, 'tolerance', marriage, morality or 'Will and Grace'. Nor did they ask them to participate in a parade, in case you were wondering. The topic was not homosexuality, but rather the use of the word 'gay' specifically. (I am sure there must have been an incident recently that prompted this action. My guess is it could have just as easily been a racial slur or a comment about a suggested mental handicap.) In that tradition, the purpose of this note is not to take a stance for or against homosexuality either. It is a look into the language we use and why it offends us. Not whether it is actually offensive, by why many believe it is. As usual, I am not trying to answer the question or impose a belief on you. We all have certain points of view but do many of us really examine why we have them or where they came from? I am simply asking 'why?' and hopefully provoking you to do the same. So back to the gay exercise...

Stop. Were you offended? I said 'gay exercise' but what did I really mean? Was I saying the exercise was 'gay', thus making an implication that I believed the exercise to be inferior in some way? Or was I simply referring to the exercise that was about the word 'gay'? Had it been about the word 'green', could I not have referred to it as the 'green exercise'? In that case would Kermit The Frog have been offended? Or would French people have been offended by the use of the word 'frog'? Is Kermit french? Much of what we believe and what offends us comes from our own perceptions, but I wonder, is it our perception or our insecurities? Are we sensitive or uptight?

Back to my gay example. (There I go again) The word gay means either homosexual or happy. But somewhere along the line it took on a new meaning due to a general hatred or 'intolerance' of homosexuality. Today, if used to refer to someone that is homosexual, it is a perfectly acceptable word. If it is used to describe something that suggests homosexuality, you walk a fine line between acceptable/funny and crude/hateful. If something fits within a stereotype we often find the humor in it, especially if the originator of the joke fits the stereotype. 

It seems that problem inherent to the use of any word really comes from three places.
1 - The source - Was it some asshole or was it a friend? i.e. My friends and I can joke and call each other fat, but some asshole calls him fat and we have an issue.
2 - The intent - A humorous context, especially in cases where a funny parallel is drawn, it is generally acceptable. i.e Straight Guy #1: 'Dude, I am going to be late because I need to go get my chest hair waxed.' Gay Guy #2: 'Dude, that's so gay.' Change that to Straight Guy #2 and it's not funny anymore... or as funny.
3 - Whether the word was used correctly. i.e. 'This math class is so gay. The bell can't ring soon enough.' Gay? really? It's a happy class and you want to leave? Were you only allowed to use mixed fractions? I don't get it.

To that last point, should one be angry that some illiterate retard used the word incorrectly? WHOA! 'Retard'? This is another one of those words that has become common to use to refer to someone's mental capacity in a disparaging way. A word that for all intents and purposes has been deemed offensive. About the best I can say for the word is that people tend to use it in a relatively accurate context, unlike 'gay'.

The origins of retard are a little clearer. It used to be a clinical term and acceptable but once it began to be uttered with contempt or ridicule by those that were neither sensitive nor informed, it was no longer ok. Mentally Challenged, doesn't roll off the tongue in the same way and is therefore more difficult to use when referring to someone else's stupidity. (To that point, since 'retard' isn't used anymore clinically, can everyone else have it back? No?) 

I think the added challenge that this word has in being admissible is that there is no moral ambiguity or long-held stereotypes that color most people's beliefs. We can see someone that is mentally challenged and we 'get it', we can feel empathy (whether they want it from us or not - but that's a whole other topic) and we can understand how crass the word is. If someone is aloof or prejudice, there is little that will change them aside from experience. 

Prejudice and ignorance seem to go hand in hand. Do some of the stereotypes have a hint of truth but a twinge of jealousy mixed in? Does an opposing belief color ones point of view? Do we hate or poke fun because we don't understand or because we are trying to deflect from our own insecurities? Or in the case of religion are we afraid of being wrong? "I don't want the embarrassment of being wrong so I will discredit the other guys to preserve my self-esteem." In some cases I don't understand the fuss. I know I for one considered becoming Jewish just so I could get a grip of my finances. Perhaps if I could have changed my race or nationality I might have become a better athlete too. The prejudice breeds contempt and contempt can change the meaning of simple words into something more complex.

Truth be told, they are just words. Sounds that are fit together and given a definition. But for some reason, some are taboo. It's the same reason why I question swearing sometimes. I'll be the first to tell my kids to say 'Oh my gosh' and not 'oh my god' or mute the TV when a cavalcade of curse words comes from the speakers. Although I don't change the channel...  and while we are on the topic, why is 'shit' a bad word but 'poop' is ok? Or even 'crap'? The 'F word' tends to be a matter of convenience much like 'retard' as no one in the middle of an argument will say 'Make love you!' or 'Have sex off!!' But where does 'What the f*ck?' come from? (and why did I use an asterisk instead of a 'u' right there? Will the 'bad word police' write me a ticket?) It's like calling something we don't like 'gay'? 'What the sex?' makes no sense but WTF is generally acceptable. At least anyone can claim to be offended by 'the F word' and we don't limit it to one particular demographic. It's nice to be inclusive, that way no one's feelings get hurt.

But really, what I want to know is, why do we get offended? Because we are insecure? Do we want to be liked and accepted without exception? Can we simply not take a joke? Are we too lazy to examine ourselves or question why we are who we are? 

Or is it the asshole theory again? It may not matter what our friends say because we know what is in their hearts, but we'll be damned if some asshole is going to challenge who we or our friends are and who we choose to be. So does it come down to what is being said, or who is saying it? To that point, should the opinion of an asshole make that much difference in our lives? By talking about it and giving it weight, do we give it validity? Does it become relevant because we allow it to be? Or are we afraid that saying nothing and ignoring the word allows the hate and the ignorance to permeate? Or do we simply have a predisposition towards complaining and always need something to fall back on?

My daughter went on to finish the story about the 'gay' exercise by letting me in on what transpired after class.  Her friend 'Bertha' uttered under her breath upon safely reaching the hallway, "That was so gay."  Now I wouldn't condone calling a 7th grader an 'illiterate retard' for not using the word correctly, or for any other reason for that matter, all I can really say is, "Bad choice of words, Bertha, but I get what you mean."

Seventeen.. ALREADY?!?

My mind wouldn't let me sleep this morning. It was filled with the typical mosaic of worries, random thoughts and 'bright ideas' that clog the mind of a husband/father over 30. ('How are we going to afford that?', 'What meetings do I have tomorrow?', 'How can we afford anything??', 'Hmm, wonder if she'd be in the mood if I woke her up... that might help me sleep', 'What are the Pats going to do about the outside linebacker position?' 'I need to say 'no' more', 'I really need to start exercising', 'Better not press my luck, let her sleep', 'I wonder if I have cancer', 'Am I in the right career?', 'Am I setting the right example for the kids?', Did I set the alarm?', 'Does it matter? I'll just get up now') So I shuffle downstairs to make some cereal and find some answers. What awaited me was more questions...

As I am putting away the milk and throwing out a few runaway Cheerios that hit the floor I spot a magazine on the counter with bright yellow and neon pink lettering that featured a picture of three effeminate young boys with thick mops of hair and pouty faces that obscured most of the mag's title... "Seventeen". The cover featured a preview of the worldly topics within its glossy pages...
- "625 HOT Summer Looks! *Flirty Makeup Tips *Pretty Hair Ideas"
- "17 ALERT: More than 150,000 girls will get pregnant this summer by accident"
- "200 Swimsuits INSIDE! Find YOUR perfect fit"
- "Jonas Bros - Their most REVEALING interview EVER!" (Ah, that must be the androgynous trio from the cover pic)
- "How to tell if he is a good kisser... JUST by looking at him"
- "Total Beach Body Confidence - Awesome Abs, Butt and Legs - in 15minutes"

SO let me sum this up... "We'll show you how to paint your face to look easy, avoid getting pregnant, show off your body at the beach, fuel your fantasy of famous heartthrobs by thinking you know 'the real' Jonas Bros., judge a boy's looks in order to initiate intimacy and finally, how to cut corners to achieve the ideal body that you don't have... fatty!"

Well, at least they don't want a girl to get pregnant... cuz it might ruin their beach body or worse... it could be listed as one of the Jonas Bros 'turn-offs'.

So I rant about this crap and the message it sends to young girls, but what does that make me? This is MY 13 year old daughter's magazine. SEVENTEEN?! It's closer than I want to admit but it isn't THAT close.

Do I say 'no more' and preach on about the lack of morals and values in the world? About how to find confidence and beauty within yourself? How to look beyond the hair, the face or the designer clothes when getting to know someone? The virtues of 'waiting'? Then lock her in her room and homeschool her? (My instinctual reaction)

OR, do I ignore it. Let it be. Let her find her own way and hope for the best? 

Do I risk pushing her further away if I tackle the problem with 'force' and resistance? If I don't, do I risk raising a shallow young girl? Will I be babysitting my grandchild so she can go to the prom while the 'deadbeat dad' with the Nick Jonas eyes is nowhere to be found?

Perhaps there's a middle ground. Can I find it within myself to allow some slack on this sort of thing in hopes that my wife and I have done enough to foster open communication for her to ask questions? She may not like to listen to our advice but, when it matters, when we are not there, will she hear our voices? Do we minimize the impact that such trash has on her mind by paying it little respect or attention? By laughing it away? Or do we legitimize it by ever letting it enter our home?

Like I said, 'more questions'... for now, I will see about buying a lock for her bedroom door and pricing out tutors. Sigh... can I afford that? What's for lunch? I should get back to work. Did the Pats find a linebacker yet?...

Paranoid Dad's advice to his soon to be teenaged daughter

She's going to be a teenager.... The sentence every dad dreads. From the day she is born or, in my immediate case, the day she found my heart, you worry about it. I know we all do it. The dust settles a bit in the delivery room, the visitors have slowed to a trickle, the nurses are checking in a little less frequently allowing you to get acquainted to the newest member of the family. You sit down in that wooden rocking chair with your new sense of purpose swaddled in your arms. Mommy looks at you with a tired and proud smile taking it all in. You look in those innocent little eyes and you think one thought Dad, just one thought at that very moment.. well, actually a stream of thoughts... "She's going to be a teenager one day, boys will chase her or worse.. SHE'LL chase boys, someone is going to break her heart (I'll kill the punk) or worse... someone will steal her heart, I'm losing her already..."
We eventually settle down, it's just that the excitement of the day tends to get us a little wound up. But in the back of our minds we still have the thoughts, they creep up from time to time over the years. We know we are not the mom, we're not the sensitive one, we can't follow their logic (or apparent lack of it), their emotions are front and center and ours are repressed, right where they are supposed to be as we are the protector, we are in charge and in control, that's our facade. Dad's don't have 'the talk' with our girls. "Eww, gross." We are intimidators and grumblers.
We were boys before we were men. (Our wives will tell us we are still boys) We know how boys think, we know what they do. Not ALL boys mind you and certainly not US, but we know what the OTHER boys were thinking, and we'll be damned if anyone thinks it about you.
But maybe in a rare moment of clarity and calm we can pass on what we really want to say. What we want to tell them without giving a lecture or sermon. What we want them to hear without giving us an eye roll. We say 'grumble, grumble' but what we really mean is this:

- Demand nothing less than respect. He treats you like a lady. He talks to you like a friend. Your lives are not stories to share with the guys. Embellishment and lies are not to be tolerated... heck neither is the truth if it isn't anyone else's business.

- Give nothing less than respect. Be the example.

- Know your limits - Make sure he knows them too. Wherever you go and whatever things you do, you do on your time, not theirs. Respect.

- Don't take unsolicited advice from your friends. "Susie has a new boyfriend like every week, OMG she SO knows what she is doing!" Those girls have had so many boyfriends because they DON'T know what they are doing. Your friends need to respect you and they need to know your limits too. It's ok to talk to them, you'll be talking to your girl friends your whole life about anything and everything, but you need to demand respect from your friends as well. Listen to the one that sounds most concerned and wants what's best for you, not the one with the suggestion for everything you should do and everything you should say.

- Relationships at your age are like homework. They are practice, they don't count against the final grade so much. You're allowed to go to your parents for help. Failing an assignment doesn't mean you flunk the course. There will always be another assignment. You don't give up when you did the odd math questions when you should have done the even and it's not the end of the world when he's not 'going out' with you anymore. It will feel like it, but I assure you it is not. Tell you what, you are allowed one night locked in your room playing the same break-up song over and over, crying your eyes out. I'll keep your sister and brother away. But one night is all you get. He wasn't good enough to deserve that one night, so consider him lucky. Tomorrow, the sun WILL come up. 

Remember that friends are going to come and go, some will always remain. The person you are now is not who you will be in a year, in 5 years or decades from now. My hope is that you will keep the same spirit, you will dare to love and you will find happiness in what really matters most.

If you remember nothing else, remember this... I loved you first and if he breaks your heart, I'll break his knees... if he's lucky that's as high as I go.