Tag: self-improvement

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personal

Witty Staircases

L’esprit de l’escalier

I pride myself on being able to say the occasional witty retort.

Like when I was arguing politics with someone…

Him: You know, you should just admit that he has some good points.
Me: Well, then we’d both be wrong.

…or when I was dating this super clumsy girl who was essentially battering me every time we got together.

Her: When you are a klutz, you get hurt. When I’m a klutz, you get hurt.
Me: Have you considered *not* assaulting me.
Her: No.
Me: Well, at least you’re consistent.

But there are plenty of times where I think of the perfect thing to say waaaaaay after the fact.

The French call that L’esprit de l’escalier or staircase wit.

It was coined by an 18th-century French philosopher, who described the phenomenon as thinking of the perfect comeback or response only after the moment has passed, like when you’re walking away, down a staircase – hence the name.

Case-in-point, I recently, I had a conversation with the Firecracker.

Her: Can you put the cantaloupe away?
Me: It has to ripen.
Her: Put it in a cabinet.
Me: You want me to put a cantaloupe into a cabinet?
Her: (slowly nods)

What I shoulda said was: Well, I can’t…ya dope.

I would never call her a dope, but it sounded funny

Or when we were discussing heading to Boston.

Her: They have a really good transit system, we won’t need a car.
Me: I thought you said it was really old?
Her: It is, but it’s still reliable. Like you – old but reliable.
Me: Blargh.

What I shoulda said was: Joke’s on you – I’m both old AND unreliable.

Or the time I made a comment about her dancing.

Me: Are you having a seizure?
Her: Aw, just get a few drinks in you and you’ll think I’m doing a great job.
Me: Tenuous.

What I shoulda said was: Define: “A few,” and “great.”

But I tease her because she is so great, so I have to take her down a peg or two from time-to-time.

Which brings me to my old friend Katsmw, and something a bit related to l’esprit de l’escalier.

Well, kinda.

I just forgot to mention two funny little things in my last entry that she pointed out after the fact.

See, Katsmw was at the last Memorial Day with us and noted that I forgot to mention that Cappy, Gar, and Duck taught her how to play the card game, 鋤大弟 (pronounced chor dai di).

Man, we used to play that game for hours; there was one time that I played it with Bobby and the fellas through the night until it was dawn.

In any case, the Firecracker won the first hand she ever played.

Then, she won the second one as well, something that amused Katsmw no end.
Should also mention that she reminded me that she had this following conversation with my son.

Her: Are you sure you want to go back into the pool? It’s cold today!
Him: It’s fine. I run hot.

The boy knows how to turn a phrase, that’s for sure.

Hopefully, he’ll keep his comedic timing as he gets older.

Location: a terrace in my building, watching the workmen do their thing
Mood: still sore (shoulder)
Music: Dur dur d’être bébé (Spotify)
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Our Bathroom Reno, Pt. 2

Soldiering on

Now, this whole renovation thing really started when we admired the ABFF’s bathroom and she offered us her leftover tiles.

The tiles were gorgeous and the right amount, so we hired her guys and expected to use them.

Unfortunately, her tiles were wall tiles, and we needed floor tiles; her’s were too thin and too slippery for us to use.

So, the reason we started the whole project in the first place was moot.

But, it was too late, we already started the work, so we had to soldier on.

On top of all this madness, the Firecracker made a major mathematical error and ordered a TON more green tiles than we needed.

Me: I thought you were a teacher!
Her: English! I was an English teacher!
Me: Blargh.

But it ended up being ok because we decided to do an accent wall that, originally, I wasn’t keen on but ended up being quite nice.

This bathroom is right off my bedroom so that meant that dust was *everywhere* and my bedroom was like a live-action Tetris.

But we were making quick progress.

After just 10 days, it was really coming together.

The Firecracker’s been pleased as punch since we finished up.

Close to the finish line!

Me?

I’m just happy that she’s happy AND I’ve got my room back.

Mostly.

2025
2009
2025
2009

Location: earlier today, under a 200 pound blackbelt getting strangled
Mood: exhausted
Music: If I could count the stupid things I do for you (Spotify)
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Our Bathroom Reno, Pt. 1

Not just touching things up

When Buckley and I first bought our pad 21 years ago (!!), we set aside about $30,000 to:

    • Completely gut renovate our front bathroom.
    • Fix the shower in the back bathroom.
    • Completely redo the floors and several panels of drywall in our basement.
2009

My apartment is a one-bedroom that, for some odd reason, has three bathrooms, which is pretty darn convenient I gotta say, despite how odd it is.

The front bathroom was the one that everyone used because it was so nice.

The back bathroom, was essentially just used for emergencies all these years.

After all, it didn’t even have a working radiator, so it was effectively unusable three months outta a year.

It was a huge waste of space.

This is what it looked like when Alison was here.

2009 – The mirror was bronze, so it was so dark that it was practically unusable.

Whoever thought that pink and red was a good colour scheme for a bathroom probably wore parachute pants as well, because – like the pants – it definitely didn’t stand the test of time.

Always told Alison that it would be the room that we renovated together.

But, as you know, that and so many of our beautiful plans never came to be.

We had already had the old bronze mirror replaced by the time we started demoing.

In any case, when the Firecracker moved in, she wanted to leave her mark here so I said that, if ever there was an occasion, we’d fix the back bathroom.

Me: Alison always hated it and I’m not a big fan either.
Her: OK, well, maybe we can start small and save up money to do a complete renovation as some point.

Well, the other day, we had dinner with the ABFF and she had just done her bathroom and had a ton of tiles left over.

She offered them and her guys’ contact information as well.

One thing led to another, and before you knew it, the Firecracker was demoing some of the red tiles.

But that actually wasn’t the very first thing we did.

The very first thing I did was take down the cheapo shower curtain rod that Buckley and I bought some quarter-of-a-century ago when we first moved into it.

That’s me holding it in the main picture above.

See, he and I lived in the building since 1997 and in that apartment since at least 2000 before we bought it in 2004.

In any case, the ABFF’s people took over the demolition and made quick work of the bathroom.

That was the start of a three-week (insanely dusty) project that I’d been waiting to do for 25 years, and it went from “touching things up,” to doing a full gut-reno.

They just wrapped it up last week, but I’m beat so, I’ll tell you more about it in the next entry.

Location: the bathroom, admiring it
Mood: drained
Music: I’m on the outside, looking for a reason to change (Spotify)
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Glazed with rain

They were delicious

Speaking of poems, the Firecracker and I discussed our favourite ones, and we discovered something…

Her: My favorite poem is, This Is Just To Say.
Me: Mine is Red Wheelbarrow by William Carlos Williams.
Her: That’s who wrote This is Just To Say!
Me: What a coincidence!

You would be surprised at the regularity that she and I have exchanges like that – a “Wait, me too” kinda moment.

And I told you once that that’s the basis of all good relationships, romantic or otherwise – a shared sense of the world.

And we still share things in the world.

Me: What would you do there?
Her: At Arizona Tom’s? Two step with older guys so they’d buy me a drink.
Me: Kinda like what you’re doing now?
Her: Nothing’s changed.

Poetry aside, it’s not like the Firecracker and I see eye-to-eye on everything, English related…

Me: I think the next thing they’ll try to get rid of will be Alcohol, Tobacco, and Fire…
Her: Wait, did you just say “Ta-bock-oh?” Like “Chewbacca?”
Me: What?
Her: You just said, Alcohol, Ta-bock-oh, and Firearms. It’s Alcohol, Tuh-back-oh, and Firearms.
Me: Well, that’s just ridiculous.

 

This Is Just To Say
I have eaten
the plums
that were in
the icebox
and which
you were probably
saving
for breakfast
Forgive me
they were delicious
so sweet
and so cold

The Red Wheelbarrow
so much depends
upon
a red wheel
barrow
glazed with rain
water
beside the white
chickens

 

Location: home, worried about the weekend
Mood: concerned
Music: I got sunshine even when it’s pouring rain (Spotify)
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Building up the opposition

Letter vs Spirit

When I was a kid, I loved the Support your local… films  with Support your Local Sheriff as my favourite of the two.

There’s a scene where an old crook named Pa Danby is trying to bust his middle-aged son Joe Danby outta jail.

Couldn’t find that scene but the above scene is before the bars are put in.

After the bars are installed, the dad tries to yank them out with Joe’s brothers and three horses, but the men are all flung from their horses and the bars don’t budge.

Joe: I could’ve told you it wouldn’t work.
Pa: Why not?
Joe: Because they set these bars in too solid.
Pa: What do you know about anything?
Joe: I helped to set ’em in.
Pa: You helped ’em put in those bars?!
Joe: I didn’t have nothin’ else to do.

Hold that thought.

Did you know that Jefferson Davis was the Secretary of War for the US right before he became the President of the Confederate States?

He built up and – vastly – improved the very army that he would face himself.

[Davis] suggested that the size of the regular army was too small and that its salaries were too meagre. Congress agreed and authorized four new regiments and increased its pay scale. He ended the manufacture of smoothbore muskets and shifted production to rifles, working to develop the tactics that accompany them. Id.

Been thinking about that fact and Support your Local Sheriff a lot lately because the kid and I’ve been arguing a lot lately.

He pushes back with me on a ton of things.

Me: You were supposed to call me.
Him: But you said call when I get out of school, you didn’t say right when I got out.
Me: True, but the point of your calling me was so I would know when to pick you up.

And I realize that it’s a delicate balance with having him be independent but also compliant – two wholly incompatible but necessary things to successfully function in society.

Balancing it properly leads me to no end of stress and us to no end of disagreements.

But this is my job, so I do it.

After all, my dad did it for me – and I’m sure he regretted teaching me to challenge everything.

Unlike Jefferson Davis, however, I’m fully aware that however I train him to behave, I’m gonna have to deal with myself, one way or another.

Because it’s the destiny of all fathers and sons to be adversarial on some things down the line, no matter how much we support and care for one another.

That’s just how things are.

But I’ll always be on his side, whether he realizes it or not.

Here’s hoping that I’m doing it right.

Him: You didn’t say that! You just said to call you after school.
Me: (sighing) Fine. But the next thing we gotta chat about is the letter of the law vs the spirit of the law…

Not looking forward to the teenage years.

Location: My incredibly dusty room sans bathroom
Mood: beat tired
Music: you start me up before breakfast – how about we fight fire with fire? (Spotify)
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Logan’s 52

Looking down the ladder

Him: Sometimes it feels like everyone’s doing so much better than me.
Me: That’s cause you’re spending alla your time looking up the ladder at everyone that has more than you. You need look down every once in a while and see how much more you have than the rest of the world. 

This fella once said, We are what and where we are because we have first imagined it.

    • Living in Queens, there was once a time I dreamed of living in Manhattan.
    • Growing up as a fat kid, there was once a time I dreamed of being physically fit.
    • Being bullied throughout childhood, there was once a time I dreamed of living knowing how to fight.
    • Being a friendless kid as well, there was once a time I dreamed of having friends.
    • Being a fat, clumsy, nerdy, dude, there was once a time I thought I’d never be with a beautiful intelligent woman.
    • After struggling for years to have a kid, there was once a time I woulda given anything to have my son.
    • And I never imagined that I’d be part of a creative team that’s close to hitting a million followers…le wha?

I’ve found a lotta peace in my noisy brain these past few months because I’ve really been focusing on two things:

    1. That quote above where I realize that everything I have right now is stuff I once dreamed to have and then spent years struggling to get.
    2. Instead of being upset that I’m so far away from my next/latest dream, I’m realizing that I’m actually right in the middle of living the last dream I had.

I’m so grateful for all the things and people that I have in my life that I never thought I’d ever have.

Pretty sure that if 14-year-old me saw 52-year-old me, he’d be both shocked and impressed.

TBH, when I really think about it, 52-year-old me is shocked and impressed with my life.

We should all be shocked and impressed with our lives.

Location: earlier yesterday, Kalahari water park in PA
Mood: like I said, shocked and impressed
Music: looked great for nearly 53. Well, lucky you found me (Spotify)
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Cutting weight

Summer’s coming anywho

Her: You know what, I’ll support you and do it too.
Me: Really? You – obviously – don’t need to.
Her: (waves hand) It’s fine. It’ll be good for me and us.
Me: Oh man, you’re the best!

Been on a hardcore keto diet for a few weeks now because my producer wanted me to cut a few pounds for an upcoming Scenic Fights shoot.

I figured, summer’s coming anywho, so I was fine with it.

And the Firecracker decided to help me by doing it as well, for no other reason than to support me.

She’s just great.

Case in point: She made this killer pesto chicken the other night for everyone.

Low carb and absolutely delicious.

All-in-all, I ended up dropping a few pounds really quickly because – between my usual cooking and hers, we were killing it.

Even managed to resist my mother-in-law’s mashed potatoes – which are so damn good – when I dropped the kid off the other day.

The Firecracker, however, took some cheat days like for her birthday, where she made herself a cupcake sandwich.

She was very pleased with herself.

Besides, she didn’t have a producer to keep happy.

But everything worked out because I ended up keeping him happy by losing exactly what I wanted to, showing up at the shoot, doing my thing and calling it a day.

Treated myself to a huge steak salad afterward.

We’re close to a million subscribers on our YouTube channel but we’re also having some cool stuff happen over at TikTok as well.

I’ll keep you in the loop.

Man…do I want some carbs…

Location: a cafe, enjoying the sun
Mood: slimmer?
Music: Mouth is alive, with juices like wine and I’m hungry (Spotify)
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Where’s my flying car?

A Skybridge to Nowhere

Him: What is that?
Me: That’s a skybridge. When I was a kid, people thought that – by 2025 – we’d all have flying cars so they would build these bridges between buildings so people could get around easier if we were all flying around. There are still a few left in NYC.

The kid noticed the below skybridge one late night when we were out with the Firecracker just outside Penn Station.

Now we’re on a quest to visit some of them if we can.

From ScoutingNY

Learned how to speed read around middle school.

I’d already read pretty quickly but I read something once that said that the simplest way to speed read is to read with your finger, but for a peculiar reason.

Take the sentence:

The quick brown fox jumped over the lazy dog.

Most people don’t read it like that, they read it like this:

The quick quick brown fox fox jumped jumped over the the lazy dog dog.

They go back at least one word, sometimes two.

You probably do it too. Try it.

Just read a sentence with your finger and force your finger to constantly move forward.

At first, it’s a bit disconcerting but you get used to it after a few weeks.

That alone should increase your reading speed, significantly.

Nowadays, I probably read normally around 650 words a minute with full comprehension and as much as 750 if I really focus.

Now, I’m not telling you this to brag but to say that I was sitting bed one day watching this clip of Bill Barr commenting on meeting flat earthers.

It allowed me to finally answer the question: Where’s my flying car?

By Mr.choppers – Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=152037030

See, I assumed that, by now, I’d be flying around in my car. Instead, we got this monstrosity.

What happened?

I think that humans take two steps forward and one step back.

Constantly.

Like we got rid of the measles.

Because most people have no memories of just how horrific the measles were.

Then fucking morons like RFK Jr come along and say that measles aren’t a big deal because they have no fucking clue.

Then a lotta people die.

Then we gotta figure out the measles again.

Wash, rinse, repeat.

The Arabs were once some of the most brilliant people on the planet, giving us algebra (al-jabr) and the House of Wisdom, among other things.

Then religious zealots took over and burned books and so much knowledge was lost.

Although, to be fair, this happened everywhere: China, England, Nazi Germany, even right here in the good ole US of A.

The US even had one just last year.

That’s why people, particularly the willfully ignorant ones, are such a disappointment to me.

There’s no end to stupid people doing stupid things and other stupid people cheering them on.

Him: Why don’t we have any flying cars, papa?
Me: Because there are so many stupid people in the world, kid. For every two steps forward, we make as a society, we take one step backward.
Him: Awww…a flying car would be cool.
Me: It really would be.

As I was writing this entry, this article just came out about almost all Tesla Cybertrucks needing to be recalled.

You cannot make this stuff up.

Location: The sunny upper west side
Mood: disappointed
Music: Boy, I don’t understand (Spotify)
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On teaching well

Must be a natural

Him: Whoa, you’re really good at that [move].
Me: It only took me 22 years. Must be a natural.

My elbow injury was the first one that I’ve had in a while.

Since I couldn’t go to the gym, I’ve been catching up on work – Scenic Fights and otherwise, as well as watching a few videos.

This fella named John Danaher – whom I used to run into alla time back in my club days – is probably the most well-respected BJJ coach on the planet.

He’s made a lotta the biggest names in the sports.

Anywho, I came across the below video of him explaining his teaching methods and it really made me think.

My very first coach would regularly completely flip out – I mean screaming in the gym like a madman, making grown men cry in front of everyone, physically assaulting his own students – when you didn’t do the move exactly as he did them or any one of a thousand little offenses to him.

Spent (well) over a decade with him with almost nothing to show for the time – a ton of other people had the same experience.

Recently, however, my skill has been expanding by leaps and bounds, precisely because I just started doing things that felt right to me.

Danaher even mentions that the goal isn’t to make robots that fight just like the coach but express themselves their own way – that’s the “art” side of “marital arts.”

That’s what my old coach never seems to have gotten.

Don’t think he realizes just how many people absolutely despise him for how much of their time he wasted.

While he certainly wasted a ton of my time, I don’t hate him.

Quite the opposite. I feel so much pity for him.

He wanted nothing more than to be a great coach but, instead, he’s just become a lightning rod of ridicule at best and full-on animosity at worst.

He’s had some stellar students, to be sure, but I gotta think that’s more a testament to their own innate skill than anything he did.

What a heartbreakingly sad thing: To be so profoundly bad at the one thing you based your entire life upon.

Location: home, with a bad back and elbow
Mood: bleary-eyed
Music: It’s not right, not okay, say the words that you say (Spotify)
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Got injured…again

The only heart I want

Her: You got injured?! Again?
Me: Yes. But in my defense, I’m getting injured less often…ish.

Was at the gym the other day and this younger fella, whom I’m friendly with, just ripped my arm and almost broke it.

The last time we rolled, I could tell I was frustrating him, so he was intent on winning this round.

That’s the thing; I care a lot less about winning and more about just improving in general, so this was annoying, to say the least.

Afterward, the instructor came by.

Him: Is anything broken?
Me: I’m not sure yet.
Him: (laughs) That’s the perfect answer. Get some ice on it.

So, I did.

It wasn’t broken but it was super sore and swollen.

It also meant that I had to sit around at home for about a week-and-a-half.

Whenever I can’t go to the gym, I actually have to try and eat well since I gain weight pretty much immediately when I can’t work out.

My Scenic Fights producer even commented the other day:

Him: You’ve been gaining a little weight.
Me: Wha?!
Cameraman: (shaking head) Logan? You’re outta your mind.

Anywho, as for eating well, I made a slew of roasted spicy chicken hearts the other day.

Someone convinced me to try some years ago and I got used to making them as quick and easy protein snacks.

Honestly, they taste oddly good since they’re pure protein and meat, but I get that it’s an acquired taste.

The Firecracker, for example, is not a fan.

Me: Hey, do you wanna try some of these roasted chicken hearts I made?
Her: Baby, the only heart I want you to give me is yours.
Me: But these are roasted with lao gan ma.

In any case, soon enough, the below poor food choices will all be mine once again.

As soon as I can move my arm.

Location: planting strawberries with the boys on the windowsill
Mood: ache-y
Music: But I survived I′m still breathin′ (Spotify)
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