Barbershop Quartet

    
    

     When you think of a barbershop, what images pop into your head? Do you think of a spinning pole with the iconic colors inviting you in for a trim and a shave? Racks of 6 month old Sports Illustrated waiting to have the pages turned with no reading involved simply because they happen to be available?   

     The traditional barbershop is dead. I'm not downtrodden about this in the least. I have no desire to hang out with a bunch of other dudes I don't know and shoot the shit about the days events while waiting to have my hair cut. I'm a modern man that doesn't want to talk to anyone or be talked to while I get my modest follicles removed from my cranium. Call it what you will (introverted, shy, stuck up, snooty, dick) but I like to walk into the barbershop, give them my order, and get it done.

     I may be complicated but I want the feeling of nostalgia that comes from the barbershop without the interaction involved with the classic barbershop. This is a simple list of things I want from my barber shop:

     (1) A TV that is playing something that I want to watch

Yes, I'm bald.

     (2) A barber (not a stylist) who asks me what I want done and then asks questions before providing the service to clarify my request. This is not a gender biased statement. A barber can be a woman and a stylist can be a man. A stylist will offer suggestions, saying things like "you should consider growing out your hair to give it more body" or "have you ever considered Rogaine combined with protein packs to give you more bounce and allow you to have more play with your style"? I don't need that. I'm nearly bald and I'm fine with that. Be a barber, listen to what I want, then do it. I don't want your suggestions.

     (3) The barber shop must offer a beard trim. My beard is part of my head and is also a vital part of my style. Without a beard I would appear to be a 15-year old boy. This becomes really sad for said 15-year old boy when he discovers he is prematurely bald and is mocked by the bullies at school.

     I need a professional from time to time to keep my beard properly shaped.  As I have been bearded for over 15 years I am quite good at maintaining a proper length of facial hair.  I do, however, like a professional to give my face a once over from time to time.

    And barber (yes, I'm talking directly to the barber), I have a beard. I don't have a five o'clock shadow, or a mustache, or a soul patch. Don't shave my face and call it a beard trim. If I wanted people to see the skin around my lips and jawline I would shave myself, thank you very much.

     (4) The barber shop must offer a shave. This is where my nostalgia comes into play. There is nothing quite as relaxing as leaning back in a chair with some hot lather covering your face and the feel of a straight razor slowly slicing away those pesky neck hairs.  After the shave, clean my face with a warm towel and apply some aftershave.

     This is a list of things I don't want from a barber shop:

     (1) Talking. I don't want to tell you about my day. I don't want to chitchat about the weather. We both know that you don't give two shits about where I work or if I'm from the area. You really don't want to know and I really don't want to tell you.  And I don't care that your left foot hurts because you were out jogging and a deer crashed into you while you were rocking out the Ke$ha. I want to sit in silence and watch a baseball game while you use the number 2 clipper guard across my entire dome-piece.

     (2) Product.  I don't really know when we as a people decided that goop we put in our hair should be deemed product. Isn't every physical item purchased a product? No, only product is product.  Anyway, do you see my head in the picture above? Do you think I need Vidal Sassoon to keep my flowing locks from blowing in the breeze? Those of you blessed to hair like Michael in The Peanut Butter Solution (after using the potion) won't know this, but there is "product" for bald guys.  I swear to you that I have been offered bald head balm after more than one haircut. Because it isn't bad enough that I'm bald. Now you want to cause mass casualties by waxing up my head so the sun will reflect back into the sky bringing down overhead aircraft.  I live near a major international airport so please be more thoughtful when offering "product" for my head.

     (3) Massage. I was at a so-called barber shop about five years ago while living in Falls Church, VA. Things were going well. There had been no talking and my hair had been clipped to the appropriate length. There was no shave, but hey, I could live with that. Then, without request or offer, the barber began to massage my shoulders. It wasn't too bad but then it got weird.  Her arms went down the neck hole of my shirt, massaging my back and shoulders directly. Skin to skin.

     As we all know, I am working out to get in better shape, That does not prevent me from sweating. Like, a lot, and this day was no exception. So this person was sliding her fingers across the moisture covered skin that is my back as if I would appreciate the attention to detail. I am not paying for being molested and you should take a shower immediately after running your fingers across the Great Dismal Swamp that is my back during the summer (yes, I understand that is really gross).

     If you are like me, fear not, because barber shops for us do exist. It only took me 35 years, 7 months, 20 days, 17 hours, 33 minutes, and 17 seconds to find one. Barber Lounge on Elden Street in Herndon, VA (no, I am not above plugging places and locations that I like. Maybe I can get some free shit). Barber Lounge gave me everything I wanted from my list, even the straight razor shave, and nothing from the list of things I don't want. Barber Lounge even went above and beyond my desires. Not only is there a TV playing something I want to watch; every booth has it's own TV. So I can watch Drop Dead Diva (shut up) without bothering the guy next to me watching the second round of the international snake charming championship on Fox Sports 1. Barber Lounge also uses a gown with a clear plastic window right around the crotch region. The more perverted of us are thinking about one reason for this, but the real reason is to provide the smartphone addicted customer the ability to catch up on Kim Kardashian's selfies and still keep the discarded follicles off their Haggar slacks. All for a steal at $28.

     So thank you, Barber Lounge, for cutting my hair, trimming my beard, shaving my neck, and not talking to me.

     P.S. To all those stylists out there in the world, I don't hate you. You have a very important place in the world providing a wonderful service to those who are folliclely challenged (bald is not politically correct). I just require your services in my barber shop.  (See my head above)

Fashion: Weekly Weight Update

     I know that in my last post I indicated that I had met my self-set goal of blogging for five straight days and I would bring it down to only Tuesday and Friday. Well, I have changed that mindset already and I've decided to add a short Sunday blog for my weekly weight update. Since I decided to pick this blog back up as a way to keep motivated in my weight loss and exercise goals, I should probably write about, you know, weight loss and exercise at least once a week instead of only providing insight on how to avoid collisions with wild animals.

     This weeks weight-in went very well. I dropped 7.2 pounds from last Sunday's weigh-in and 1 pound overall. I'll try to give a better explanation of what that means. The last Weight Watchers weigh-in was over a month ago. It wasn't a matter of skipping meetings but a matter of not being in town due to vacation, mini-vacation, and wedding attendance. When all the various out-of-town obligations concluded, I had packed on 6.2 pounds from my last Weight Watchers visit. I wasn't downtrodden about this considering I was away eating ice cream and drinking beer at the Outer Banks. It just added some additional baggage to discard. So, upon return from the various adventures I had ballooned up to 227.2 pounds.

     I rededicated myself after the fun summer time treats, started up this blog, and reinvested myself with positive results. One week later I've lost all the vacation weight plus another pound, bringing me down to an even 220 for a grand total weight loss of 47 pounds. Not too shabby. Once I drop another 2.8 pounds I win myself a massage (a proper massage from a licensed professional, you animals. Get your mind out of the gutter).

The Deer Runner

 

     Running is a dangerous pastime. Not a day goes by without an article in the local paper of a 6', 138 lb marathon runner twisting an ankle during mile 37 of 77 while out for his "short" mid week run. Don't worry, he will be healed in time to get in his long run over the weekend (usually between 457 and 532 miles). Boy can I relate. It was a few short weeks ago that I had my own encounter with the perils of running. I remember it like it was yesterday...(Cue the wavey screen cut into the flashback scene with a voiceover by, I don't know, lets say Wil Wheaton)

     It was a typical July afternoon in Northern Virginia. That is to say the temperature was approximately 97, the humidity hovered around 187%, and the heat waves from the asphalt gave the suburbs the appearance of a Hitchcock film. Rizzo and Cece were at the community pool when I arrived home work, which left me plenty of time to change and start pounding the pavement.

     I was on Week 5, Day 1 of my C25K app which consisted of a brisk 5-minute warm up walk, then; jog for 5 minutes; walk for 3 minutes; jog for 5 minutes; walk for 3 minutes; jog for 5 minutes; and concluded with a 5 minuted cool down walk. Since it was such a nice day (see stats above) I thought I would try out a new jogging route. I began the brisk 5-minute walk and took a path located behind our neighborhood that leads to the local wilderness area.  I use the descriptor "wilderness area" lightly because in this area you are no more than a 15 minute walk from a road, house, or McDonalds but, hey, at least there are trees.

     The run/walk was going well even through my sweat-blurred vision. The jogging persisted as per usual and I even got into the non-paved area of the trails where I had to actually run on dirt. For those of you who live in a big city, dirt is that brown stuff that is located under all the buildings and concrete. It's pretty and I suggest you go out and find some to walk around on in the near future.

     The app dinged in my Bluetooth headphones indicating that I was halfway and it was time to turn around. Yes, I have Bluetooth headphones. They were a Father's Day Gift. Shut up about it. So I'm the guy that gets all the gear to take up a sport or hobby before ever trying it out because even if I'm not good at something I want to look good doing it. Whatever. Leave me alone.

     Anyway, my self imposed torture was nearly over. Another ding in my earbuds (calling them earbuds instead of headphones makes me sound hip, right?) and I started the last 5-minute jog. Things were going swell. My sweat soaked t-shirt had increased in weight to nearly 7.5 lbs due to the moisture absorption and clung to my jiggly abdomen like glitter from the Christmas card your jerk of a cousin sent you and you are still finding stuck to your left elbow eight months later. I was in the zone. Ke$ha's "Tik Tok" was getting me pumped so I increased my pace to push myself to the finish line. That's when it happened.

     A massive object crashed directly into me from my right. With the Ke$ha blaring I didn't see it coming. Something had crushed me out of nowhere. It was heavy. Was a biker behind me tired of screaming "on your right" and just barreled past, kicking me in the process? Did I get magically transported to the set of the TV show Wipeout or MXC and was getting knocked into the fluid? Had I merely lost consciousness for a moment since the humidity had climbed to 317% during my workout?  All of these questions and more ran through my mind in a split second. When my eyes finally refocused this is what I saw!

     A doe. A deer. A female deer.  I had been hit by a deer.  A fawn to be exact. The mean little bastard (I am not implying anything about the marital status of the deer's parents; rather, I'm using the term in a derogatory context) had jumped from the underbrush just as I was jogging by and crashed directly into my right shoulder. Can you believe it? Everyone has or knows someone that has hit a deer with their car. It's because deer are stupid and are mesmerized by the sight of headlights. But have you ever heard of someone getting hit by a deer while jogging and embarrassingly listening to Ke$ha?  Well now you have.

     The doe, a deer, a female deer, scampered into the forest. I cut the rest of my workout short and staggered back to home. I had shooting pains down my right collar bone and my right shoulder ached. My left foot throbbed as I limped down the trail. I contemplated how to relay this story during the remainder of my journey. Some would say I was attacked by Bambi, a cute, little snugly creature and that makes you weak. But they would be wrong. Mother nature had attacked me and the best She could do was give me a swollen foot and a bruised shoulder.  That mean's I'm stronger than nature. Screw you little deer and screw you Mother Nature.  I cannot be defeated!

P.S. Dear Mother Nature, please do not try and prove you are better by sending a bear next time. I promise I'll be good.

P.P.S. If you send any kind of greeting card filled with glitter you are an asshole and should no longer have the right to vote.

P.P.P.S. My goal was to get a blog up for five consecutive days and I succeeded. I plan to post a blog twice a week (probably Tuesday and Friday). So all you people clamoring for a daily dose of me (both of you) will have to be patient.

Breakfast of Champions

     I'm not a breakfast food guy. Don't get me wrong, I love eating in the morning. Of course, I love eating in the afternoon. I also love eating in the evening and underneath the moon. I just love eating. I'm just not a big fan of breakfast food. Give me a turkey sandwich over a waffle any day. You can keep your eggs benedict and I'll take some left over General Tso's chicken. The problem is that most of the food I like for breakfast is either (a) a sugary, carb filled mess like Frosted Flakes or Honey Nut Cheerios; (b) leftovers from a bowel busting meal the night before such as pizza with italian sausage, mushrooms, and pineapple, or (c) beer. Unfortunately none of these things are keeping in the spirit of health and fitness. Luckily, I found my solution mixing three simple food items some will say don't go together; oatmeal, eggs, and red pepper flakes.

    

     The recipe is as simple as it comes. For starters, cook up some oatmeal. My preferred brand is Quaker Oats Old Fashioned Oats. This is my favorite for a few reasons.  First, the ingredients are simple.  The brand is made with rolled oats. That's it.  No additional nonsense included for flavor or preservatives. I suppose you could get the instant oatmeal if you want but then you are also getting calcuim carbonate, salt, guar gum, caramel color, reduced iron, and vitamin A palmitate. I love getting in some extra guar gum as much as the next guy, but it seems like a lot of extra ingredients to reduce your cooking time from five minutes down to a minute and thirty seconds. Second, purchasing this name brand oatmeal is a lot less expensive than getting the tree hugging, hippy douche oatmeal that comes in the fancy hand-blown glass container and was manually shucked by 19 year-old interns from the local all-woman college that are majoring in 17th century English literature but really they want to save the world one oat at a time. (A special hello to all my friends who went to an all-woman college. I love you all). I buy plenty of tree hugging, hippy douche products at the local farmer's market (I'm sure there will be a blog about this soon) so I don't need to waste money on a product when Quaker Oats oatmeal has only one ingredient.

   

     As you wait impatiently for your oatmeal to cook for what feels like 5-6 hours (or 5 minutes), you have plenty of time to cook up the next ingredient: eggs. I fry two eggs over easy. It's important to make sure to keep the eggs over easy because the runny yolk is vital in preparing this simple breakfast. Again, we don't by the tree hugging, hippy douche eggs from the farmer's market for $10/dozen because they were hand plucked that very morning straight from the chicken's ass. Instead we opt for the tree hugging, hippy douche organic free-range eggs from Harris Teeter that are $5/dozen because $5 is $5 and money doesn't grow on trees.  Give us a break, at least we aren't buying the chicken factory eggs that are produced by indentured servant chickens for $4/dozen because, I believe, allowing chickens to walk around is worth the extra $1.

     Depending on your timing, the eggs or the oatmeal may be done first.  It doesn't really matter because these two foodstuffs are getting mixed together. When the oatmeal and eggs are done, mix the two together in a bowl. I always use a soup bowl mainly because when Rizzo and I got married we registered for six or seven hundred of them and I'm going to use them for something, goddammit. Make sure to break the yolks so you get a nice and creamy mixture of oatmeal and eggs.

   

     Finally we come to the most important part of the whole process which is the red pepper flakes. I'm sure you have made those pansy-ass recipes that have you adding 1/2 tsp of red pepper flakes to a pasta sauce designed to serve 70. I say person-up (I would say "man-up" but that would be sexist and I'm nothing if not a lover of women so I wont be disparaging women unless I am mocking all-woman colleges) and use red pepper flakes like, well, pepper.  Cover the top of your egg/oatmeal mixture with lots and lots of red pepper. I won't give you a measurement because everyone's taste is different. I will say that I use enough red pepper flakes on my eggmeal to make pasta sauce for 4,000.

     Time to dig in!  Delicious, isn't it?  What?  What do you mean all you can taste is the burning on the inside of your mouth because you followed my lead and used copious amounts of red pepper flakes?  I can't help you with that but I find this breakfast to be delicious and nutritious. So much so that I have made this breakfast 6 days a week for the past nine months and I'm not tired of it yet. When you find something that works, is healthy, and only uses 8 Weight Watcher points, then you have to stick with it. Now if you will excuse me I have a doctor's appointment. I'm pretty sure the red pepper flakes are killing me. 

P.S. I have many friends that matriculated at an all-woman college, including my lovely wife, and they are all lovely, well-educated, and sophisticated members of society. Ok, not all of them, but at least the same percentage as those who didn't attend an all-woman college, so lets not blame the all-woman college. It's a joke people.


  

Beer Snob

     I am a beer snob. One of my favorite things to do is to find a beer that I have never tasted, give it a try, rate it, check it in on the Untappd app (where you can chronicle each and every beer you have), and obtain badges on said app. Whenever I have to travel to a new place I make sure to seek out the most local beer available and give it a try.  In my opinion, the boom of the craft beer market has been the best thing to happen in the world since my birth.

     The picture to the left is my most recent sampling. I nice offering from Adroit Theory Brewing in Purcellville, VA called The Devil Made Me. A little background on Adroit Theory Brewing.  This brewery is made for beer snobs like me. As stated on the website, Adroit Theory is a nano-brewery. It is an extremely small brewery that makes beer one keg at a time. That means whatever you are drinking is always unique and always in limited supply which is a beer snobs dream come true.  You can get more info on Adroit Theory here.


     This particular brew is a smoked porter with serrano peppers. I know that may sound odd but that is what Adroit Theory is all about, experimenting with the odd. Adroit Theory even has a beer brewed with Rocky Mountain Oysters (look it up, kids).

   The beer doesn't disappoint with its smokey flavors. It is a wonderfully flavored porter that would work well with any steak you can sit next to it. The real surprise comes on the back end (a tasting term used by both wine and beer snobs meaning the aftertaste without having to say aftertaste because aftertaste sounds gross). The peppers really come through and you can feel the heat in the back of your throat. It isn't an overwhelming sensation like biting into a death-by-heat buffalo wing but a subtle flavor that I really enjoyed.  All in all, if you are a fan of dark, smokey beers then you will definitely enjoy this brew.

     I'm sure you noticed that the glass is not from Adroit Theory. The glass is courtesy of The New Albanian Brewing Company located in the very, very small town of New Albany, Indiana which is located just over the river from Louisville, Kentucky. Rizzo and I picked up this glass during one of our A Christmas Carol trips. This is another great brewery but unfortunately the beer isn't available in Virginia so you'll have to pay a visit to Indiana to give it a try and check them out here.

Topless Pics and Running

Pale

     Sexy as hell, right? I knew you would all dive right in when you saw the title of this post. Soak it all up, ladies and gentlemen.

     We all know that when you start a weight loss/fitness journey that you have to have the before pictures. Well, I missed that boat 9 months ago when I actually started moving instead of laying around like a sack of already consumed fast food haplessly discarded in the back seat of a messy vehicle. Instead of the before pictures, you wonderful people get to enjoy the "I've lost some weight but it's hard to tell because I was so big to start with" pictures.

     This is a proud moment because I don't think I would have ever revealed such skin in prior iterations of myself. I almost didn't post pictures of my belly this time but I couldn't keep this kind of sexiness to myself. I mean who doesn't love giant red basketball shorts?

Why am I staring like a creep?

     Immediately after taking these pornographic images, I hiked up to Herndon High School (almost 5 consecutive minutes of walking) for a run. I've been running for a few months now so that isn't really news. Usually I go for a jog on some wooded trails behind our house (remind me to write up the story about how I got hit by a deer while jogging). However, today I decided to run a mile on the track and get my time. There is no reason for this other than I wanted to see what my time would be. So off I went.

     I wasn't alone on the track. I like to run alone. Just ask Rizzo about some previous 5k races she has seen me run. I don't want someone cheering me on. I just want to get the shit done and then move on to something more productive, like eating cheese balls or listing to a podcast about the TV show Frasier. Instead of being alone on the track I happened across a full-blown pickup soccer game, a football practice, and several spectators sitting in the stands checking out the dudes playing futbol/football. I was going to have to do this with an audience.  Great.

    Off I went. The first lap flew by in a scorching 2:13 seconds. Yes, I know there are 8-year-olds who can cover twice the distance in the same amount of time. Well they don't have to battle unencumbered man boobs constantly hitting their chin and knees, so I give myself the benefit of the doubt. I pushed on through lap number two keeping the same pace and crossing the line at 4:26. I was surprised to see that I was keeping the same pace through two laps and actually on a pace to run a mile in under 10 minutes, something that I have never accomplished in my 35 years of existence on this planet.

     Lap three was where I started to hit a wall.  I've been covering 2-3 or more miles on my jogs lately, but I haven't really pushed hard for a time. My goal had been to get up and move and not die. I started having a pain in my gut. You know the one. The paid that happens when you have been out running but not getting enough oxygen. Or maybe it was because I hadn't eaten dinner yet. It was nearly 6:30pm after all which is well past my "I'm really old so I eat dinner no later than 5pm" standard meal time. Either way, I thought I was slowing down but I then completed the third lap at a time of 6:53. A bit slower than the first two laps but still respectable for a man of my girth.

     It was time for the final lap. I wanted that extra push to get me over the edge and perhaps break the 10 minute milestone. So I reached for my phone to crank up my running playlist. That is when the music stopped. Nothing was coming from my headphones. What the hell just happened? How can I possibly push myself to the finish line if I don't have Danger Zone by Kenny Loggins pounding in my ears? The silence made me aware that I was breathing like an asthmatic pug. I was going to have to get this music issue fixed while running.  I tried my best but to no avail. It was time to finish this out with just the music in my head. I made sure to keep my stride in the same pace I had been for the previous three laps but without Kenny I was lost. I pushed through the pain in my side and the lack of oxygen. I crossed the finish line and staggered about a bit to catch my breath. I looked down at my watch.  9:33!  That's right gentle readers, I ran an entire mile in less than 10 minutes for the first time in my life! You would have thought I had just gone 12 rounds with Ivan Drago based upon my appearance, but I was still happy. I had worked hard and accomplished a goal that I didn't even know I had. Now it is time to set some new goals.  Next up: a single pullup.

Losing Weight and Feeling Great

     To begin, let me say that I'm not going to give you one of those "previously, on the Green Bean Conspiracy" posts to catch you up on what I've been doing, or not doing.  If you are reading this, you already know that I haven't posted a single thing to this sad excuse for a blog for over two years and you also already know what I've been doing with my life.  So we are just going to pretend that I have been keeping up with this nonsense for the entire duration and get to the point.

     I have been out of shape for as long as I can remember. I've had spells of being in better shape than other times but I have never been in good shape.  Once Cece was born I made the decision to get healthier.  I often joked that my entire weight loss goal was to have an ab.  Yes, that is singular. Just one ab. That is still the case but with the kid in my life my weight loss goal is to not die. I'd prefer to not use a rascal scooter to attend my daughter's high school graduation. On the day we brought Cece home from the hospital on May 5, 2014, this was me.

Holy Cheeks and Neck Fat, Batman!

      I got to the doctor in July 2014 to start the process of not dying. I knew it wouldn't be good, but I decided that this time would be different. I wasn't going to worry about what the numbers told me and get all depressed. I was just getting a starting point to move forward. My starting point was 267 lbs. Yep, that is a lot of ice cream and beer filling those massive cheeks.

     I spent a few months trying to do my own thing. It worked pretty well and I had lost 10 lbs through October 2014 but I needed something more motivating. Rizzo had started Weight Watchers to kick off the baby weight (which she has done and more so by the way. She looks outstanding) so I buckled and joined the Weight Watchers group, as well. We have both been on the Weight Watchers bandwagon ever since. (This is not a commercial for Weight Watchers and this is the last you will hear of it).

     Another nine months later and I've lost another 30 lbs, bringing the grand total up to 40 lbs. I still have a long way to go but I'm feeling good. Here is a nice picture from a Memorial Day brew visit.

Less cheeks and neck, more baby.

     So why am I deciding to kick start this blog and write a few words now? Well, after a few summer vacation weeks I've put back on some of the weight. Nothing that is scary or unexpected when you take time off to relax so I'm not stressed about it, just enough for me to seek out an additional motivational tool. That motivational tool is going to be this blog.

     No I'm not going to only write about my attempts to reduce my gut from huge to slightly less huge. I think I may try to write about other stuff I like such as beer, baseball, beer, food, beer, travel, beer, history, beer, movies, beer, TV, beer, family, and beer. (Rizzo, I did sneak family in there so don't get mad at me).

    So let the games begin.