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The Path To Mancavedom

On the day we consume massive quantities of turkey, beer and 12 straight hours of glorious football it only seems fitting I celebrate the official grand opening of my very own man cave. My accountant would rather I call it my home office but calling this blog entry The Path to HomeOfficedom is super lame and I’m paying him good money so work on those tax write offs from the “man cave” investment.

You see man needs his own space and that was easy for him to obtain in his early days roaming the earth. But then man fell in love, married and created little men that eventually look over his home office sanctuary and found himself parking his ass regularly at Starbucks to get some peace and quiet and taking conference calls over endless hours of baristas making double shot skinny mocha latte frapacchinos . That life was getting old.

This path to mancavedom was not an easy one. It started as a vision years ago. became reality last year when the CFO of DonutMonday Inc signed off on the project (wife) and broke ground earlier this year. During this trail blazing journey to build his new castle I documented each milestone of the arduous process and I share that with you today.

Step 1 – Find a suitable location. I live in a modest home in Northern California where housing is expensive and general contractors are in high demand. So visions of a grand remodel adding square feet were not in the cards. Fortunately my property contains a shed in the backyard that was the inspiration for a number of horror movies ground zero for every child’s nightmares. Actually my wife keeps her off season clothes and holiday decorations in here so we’re good to go. Location secured. img_2710

Step 2 – Execute Operation Shed Crap Transfer. This is my dining room table. I think. I didn’t actually see it for almost 2 months because it was the interim staging area of where we stored all the crap we had in the shed. However this was a principal condition of getting the CFO financial green light so failure was not an option. img_2719

 

Step 3 -Knock that old mofo shed down. This was going to be the fun part of the project. Just me, a home depot special entry level low torque cordless drill with accumulated dust from non use and ingenuity. I may not be able to build but I can destroy! img_2708

 

Step 4 – 3 hours later, throw away the cheap ass drill, scrap the elegant de-assembly plan and just start sledgehammering with middle age dad anger. That worked way better. Eventually I was left with the final skeletal remains of the old shed. One i-beam remained holding everything together that required accurate precision to ensure full safety precautions and avoid any injury from walls falling in on the demolition crew.

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Unfortunately that plan did not work but the ladder and what was left of my dignity took the brunt of the collapse.

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Step  6 – Draw up your plans. This was the first rendition of the vision for what my man cave would look like utilizing cave man like drawing skills. Possessing no ability to draw a person from a sky view makes it look like I’m lying on the floor sprawled out face up on the floor with a beer in my hand. That’s entirely in accurate. I’m normally face down.

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Step 7 – Throw away that 1st grade level crayon drawing and hire a real outfit that can do the job right. In my case I went the pre-fab route and worked with a company called Modern Shed (www.modern-shed.com) These guys were great as was their design options and I’m not just saying that because I get $500 for every sales referral I send them. That said if you are in the market for a man cave/home office I highly recommend this outfit and I’ll give you unlimited use of my soon to be new kegerator which happens to be $499 on sale today at Home Depot. Weird coincidence on price. Did I mention these guys were great? So very great.

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Step 8 – Check your non-handy ass ego at the door and get out of the way. This is Jose and Gaspar. These guys know how to build and simultaneously silently mock me with real power tools which they leave scattered around my property to torment me.

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Step 9 – Find a suitable side project. While Gaspar and Jose did all the heavy lifting building out the cave I found a way to make myself useful by building out the storage closets that would house all of the wife’s clothes and decorations that previously resided in the horror house shed. Just look at the precision on how the cabinet doors don’t quite line up nor the 3rd unit on the right which is an entirely different sized storage closet I accidentally purchased and didn’t even realize it till assembly stage 14C.


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Step 10 – Pimp It out. That wall spackle is not even dry and I have the TV fully mounted. Boom! It’s the corner piece centralized universal of any certified man cave and mandated by the city permit that I did not secure when putting up this bad boy. But don’t tell the  city and for god sakes don’t tell that to my accountant.

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Step 11 – Invest in a wifi extender. I cut the cable cord and bought an Amazon Firestick to broadcast HD TV over wifi. Great plan on paper. Unfortunately my current home wifi did not adequately reach the outer confines of Casa de DonutMonday and watching impressively consistent levels of buffering on aforementioned TV in VHF display quality got old fast. So I invested in the titanium grade Sports-A-Saurus 3000 model to deliver 100MB grade HD delivery with the 1 click push button pizza delivery feature. Comcast is NOT getting my money today.

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Step 12 – Once Sports-A-Sauris is installed ensure you have your man cave built during MLB baseball post season, NFL, NHL and college football seasons for proper and thorough quality assurance testing.img_3072

Step 13 – Understand you will fall victim to purchase every ManCave themed shwag on earth.I tried to fight this but who can say no to a one of a kind Mexican license plate themed sign sold by ten thousand street vendors in Cabo San Lucas? I didn’t think so Judgey McJudger

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Step 14 – Equip your man cave. Check out this bad ass hand stitched Italian leather dual motorized reclinable couch imported directly from Florence for a mere $4500. Unfortunately that was not a CFO approved purchase so check out the plan B Costco sofa bed special that currently resides in the cave instead. img_3080

Step 15 – Landscape, paint and rejoice. My kingdom awaits and it comes equipped with full time child labor who will keep the beer fridge restocked knowing access to the Xbox relies upon completion of those duties. Pretty nice upgrade over the horror shed and packs a 140 SF of certified man themed punch on the inside.

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Living Large in Little League

This dad shares his experiences as his kids progress through little league baseball

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Dear Liver

Dear Liver,

First off I just want to say that I love you. We’ve been through a lot together and I’ve not always treated you with the respect you deserve. There was that malt liquor phase in college which I’m not proud of.  Oh and spring break in Mexico where I set the record for most consecutive tequila popper shots. Come on that was fun right? Fist bump! Come on don’t leave me hanging. Yeah I get your still mad about those early days in my career where I got a little carried away with the free soda perk and only consumed water in the form of ice cubes in my jack and cokes. Thank you for sticking around with me during those days and by sticking around I mean not shutting down so I’m on dialysis for the rest of my life. I appreciate it.
But hey we are in a much better place now right? I’m drinking tons more water, no more soda and I’ve cut way down on my day drinking at work. I don’t take you for granted anymore and I’m committed to you for the long haul. You know that now and that’s why I feel comfortable telling you that I’m taking a 3 day trip to Vegas with the guys.

Oh please don’t cry.

No really it will be fine. I’ll be sure to hydrate. Already I’ve had 3 glasses of water this morning before I head to the airport. Yes I’ll probably have a few drinks at the bar. Yes those are a stack of Southwest drink tickets in my pocket but it’s just an hours flight and how many can I really use in that time? Last trip was 4 coupons? Really? Wow I’m good but that’s besides the point. I’ve been preparing for this trip and taking a holistic approach to improving all of my organs health. There’s all that hot yoga workouts with those moves that improve the health of my pancreas, kidneys and gall bladder. My gall bladder is rockin right now. It should be on the cover of gall bladder monthly it’s so finely tuned.

Who’s going on the trip with me? Well there is Tom, Dave and my brother Sean. Yes my Canadian brother is going. Ok you need to just calm down. Yes he can be a bad influence on me but I haven’t seen him in almost a year and we can’t even go back to that bar again since the fire we accidentally started burned it down and all charges were eventually dropped. I know it’s not fair that his liver died many years ago from that trip to Saskatoon when it was all you can drink Molson’s night but it’s not my fault that he has free health care and got the titanium liver transplant. We just have to deal with this together.

So let’s just get through these next 3 days and make the best of it. I’m not going to lie to you that it’s going to be easy but I’l stay clear of the double vodka/redbulls (I get annoyingly chatty) and be sure to hydrate regularly. Tonic water counts right?

TV Time Out – So That’s What HD Looks Like!

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Oh yeah check out that bad boy the 32 inch Proscan. RCA’s “in your face” answer to Sony’s Trinitron and Pioneer’s Elite series harnessing the best of TV technology circa 1998. That was back in the day when you had to call in atleast 2 buddies to help carry a beast like this when moving and if you dropped this TV on your foot you were definitely going to the emergency room. Not like the featherweight slim LED TV’s of today that my 9 year old could move himself. I took a picture of this relic from a rather odd angle with bad lighting because I literally can’t move it any further by myself.  In short, a man’s man TV. Or some would say a cheap man’s TV. And the reason I know so much about the Proscan TV is because this monster has until about a week ago, been the primary TV viewing home experience for me and my family the past 15 years. RCA may have gone out of business but not in my house.

Truth be told I didn’t even care about replacing the TV the first 8-10 years. TV technology at the time was good enough for me and 50 inch plasma TV’s back then would set you back a good $3-4K. Why get a SmartTV when I had hundreds of physical DVD’s that I could ignore and store in my house taking up precious room while collecting dust? The real shunning began about 3 years ago. Buddies dropping by for a Sunday afternoon watching football slowly dwindled. One friend walked in to my house one Sunday afternoon to watch the 49ers, took one look at the TV and walked out immediately without saying a word. Since then I send him (just him) a Super Bowl party invitation every year with a picture of the TV on the front of the card telling him to RSVP ahead to guarantee I could make room for him. Last year I had my Comcast cable boxes updated and asked the installation technician how much to upgrade to an HD signal. He just looked at me and said “Why?” When the Comcast guy shuns you and gives you the virtual “L” pasted across the forehead you know you’ve hit bottom.

So 2 weeks ago I drove down to the local Best Buy with a stack of gift cards accumulated from 10’s of thousands of dollars in DVD purchase rebates on my credit card and headed over the TV section. The discussion with a very nice sales lady went something like this.

Sales lady – “Can I help you sir?”

Me – “Yes I’d like to buy a new TV”

Sales lady – “Is there a particular set of features you’re looking for in a new TV?”

Me – “Yes I’m looking for a 50 inch TV that has new features developed since 1998”

Sales lady – “You have a TV from 1998?”

Me – “Yes. Please don’t shun me”

Sales lady – “No worries. Are you going to give it to a museum or something”

Me – “I would but I can’t physically move it out of my house. We are going to stack the kids toys all around it until they move out for college which is about when I’ll be ready to upgrade my TV again”

When I finished picking out the TV from the Best Buy Labor Day Sucker sale the nice sales lady said they would bring the Slim LED TV around front to load into my car. In my customary fashion I waited for 3 large men to come by to load the TV but the sales lady brought out the TV herself and loaded it in the car, with one hand, while texting her friends.

Installing the new TV in my living room was relatively pain free save for lifting the old TV off the stand and moving it 2 feet which is where it still sits at this moment. When i turned on the new TV for the first time an impressive graphic display of HD awesomeness appeared before my eyes and that was just the TV set up wizard. Even the set up prompts were impressive and intuitive. “I have detected Comcast Cable as your primary provider” (yep)…”I have detected your home wifi and connecting now” (impressive)…”I have determined your top 10 favorite shows after analyzing your DVR saved programs and past viewing habits. Would you like me to recommend shows to you automatically?” (tears rolling down my face) Once the set up was complete the TV crescendo built up while the TV automatically downloaded a software update. In the background set up music I swore I heard the words “Looooooosseeeerrrr” whisper into my ear.

The next morning was like summer Christmas in casa Donut Monday. The kids reiterated their love for their father and the wife said rent something “frisky” on the Netflix app later tonight, in HD. My Comcast guy looks me in the eye again.

Until my next TV revolution circa 2028

Long Live The Annual Guys Getaway

Mancation….Guys Weekend Away…Boys Trip. Call it what you will just don’t forget to call me if you’re putting one of these bad boys together. Since the beginning of time when Fred and Barney would take a road trip with their fellow Water Buffalo brethren into the prehistoric minivan and head off to Rock Vegas for to blow off some steam and throw down some bets (Did someone say b.b.b.b.bet, bet bet?) men have come to love the ritual of the annual guys getaway. It’s the only reliable environment where you can take  a collection of otherwise responsible set of dudes who are generally upstanding citizens and have them voluntarily subject themselves to photo documented acts worthy of extortion. For evidence I present you with Exhibit A.

Exhibit A

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These are men in full scale annual guy trip mode. Note their temporary departure from self pride fueled partly by brotherly companionship and partly by the 19 beers consumed by the time this picture was taken…at 11am. You may think this picture is an anomaly but I’ve trained this crew to willingly put on an umbrella hat in public during perfectly sunny days at major sporting events for 10 years running. Do not underestimate the alluring power of the annual guy getaway. That and 19 beers.

I used to think that guy trips were just something you only did in your college days but when you are that young with little or no responsibility your whole life at that moment in time is practically in constant guy trip mode. Your only concern when you return from a trip at that age is whether you left the beer fridge open while you were gone and whether you will get the damage deposit back on the house boat rental (You won’t). I suspect the allure of the guys trip fades for those in retirement age as well given the abundance of down time already readily available or because there is only a 78.3% chance you’ll survive the ordeal.

It’s actually us middle age dudes that truly embrace the guys trip and get the best return on our investment. We are in the sweet spot of life where downtime is rare and you don’t pass up the chance to break out of the normal routine. Nothing makes you step up your game and temporarily loose your mind on a testosterone filled excursion knowing that when the sanctioned debauchery ends  you will pack your bags to head home to start a 48 hour diaper duty shift, face a shit ton of work to catch up on and a get a freshly updated HoneyDo list from wife who’s looking to collect on all the man point credit cards you charged this trip to to get out in the first place, with interest. But that’s not for another 3 days 7 hours and 15 minutes from now and it’s time to live large.

Like most things in life there is a hierarchical pecking order in the various preferred formats of the annual guys trip. Any quality time away with the guys is a good thing but the first annual trip is always touch and go and the casualty rate is high. The rule of thumb for a first time getaway is invite 30% beyond trip capacity knowing some never make it past the budget talks, others get D blocked from the boss on a last minute conflicting business trip and then there is the rare occasion where a poor soul gets machine gunned on his front lawn within visual range of their target getaway vehicle by the wife who was never properly briefed on the original mission. We attempt to recover the body later.

Any guy getaway that makes it to year 2 is officially considered a tradition according to worldwide man code which instantly upgrades your weapons cache for counter assaults in subsequent years by aforementioned barriers to entry. Void where prohibited. The gold standard is the annual guys trip established before you even settled down to got married and have kids. This pre-nuptual agreement term was recently upheld in a challenge in front of the Supreme Court of ManJustice. You’re grandfathered in and can play the tradition card every year with no expiration date. “Honey you know I want to be home for Christmas with the family but we’ve been doing our annual guys Halibut Be Thy Name  Alaska fishing trip since 1986 and I can’t let the guys down.  The key is don’t miss even one year or you loose all your accrued vesting and we won’t see your ass on that trip again until the kids are out of college.

Annual girl getaways, while fully endorsed and encouraged by my fellow male brethren,  don’t come together nearly as easy. Women are much more polite then men and will try to work around everyone’s schedules to find a compatible time before an entire year has gone by and they have to start over for the following year. If they do actually agree on a  time there’s talk of what to bring, what kind of clothes to pack and pre-planning some excursions. No such silliness on guy getaways. Without prior notification or planning guys just show up in front of your house the same day each year, the car filled with beer based on a 24 bottles per person per day consumption rate and poker chips. No words are exchanged. For girl getaways, themes will change every year and there’s debate and discussion about what to do to “build on the experience”. Yawn. Men invite the same other men every year, wear the same shirt, order the same beer and sit in the same chair and if someone’s in their chair they will crop-dust  the area until the perpetrator is forced to exit from lack of oxygen. Don’t mess with tradition.

One final little tidbit on the subject of guy getaways. Contrary to what you see in the movies and outside of any excursion involving Charlie Sheen, most men I’ve seen don’t completely loose our minds on these kind of trips and do stupid shit. If  someone new is initiated into the excursion and shows up with hookers and coke they are quickly excommunicated from the group and shunned from existence. The fact is we’re not out to cheat and break laws. We just want to drink beer, shun responsibility for a few days and have something to look forward to next time around, which according to my calendar is a mere 187 days away and counting!

How to Spot a Yoga Poser

It seems virtually everyone, including yours truly, is getting into yoga. Entire retail chains are dedicated to properly outfitting the truly committed “yogi” as well as those that want to lead a “yoga inspired” lifestyle – i.e. those who are inspired to not actually practice yoga. Perhaps that is best because I’ve come to the conclusion that there is a world shortage on yoga studios. I showed up to mine the other day and the line was out the door to get into class and around the block. I had to scalp tickets to get closer to the front of the line and mow down a nice lady just to grab one of the last spots. The mark from my It’sJustZen(R) new yoga sandals were still on her back when I left which seemed rather un-Zen like in retrospect.

In the 14 weeks since I started hot Yoga (which more than qualifies me as an expert on the subject in my warped protocol of written subject matter justification) I’ve come to the conclusion that mixed among any class there are the true Yoga disciples and then there are the Yoga posers.

Yoga Disciples – Dedicated, Disciplined, Spiritual. In other words..boring!

Yoga Posers are much more fun to observe because they come in various forms and almost assuredly provide delightful material for an observationalist like myself. I say this with the full disclosure  and humility that I’m a card carrying Yoga poser myself. Until I can actually sit in a lotus pose for more than 30 seconds without sobbing uncontrollably from pain and find enough mind discipline to not get distracted by the hairy guy in front of me who is wearing Yoga shorts atleast 2 sizes too small, I am far from disciple status. That said, regular class attendance has allowed me to observe that there are distinct classes of Yoga posers you’ll find in a studio at any given time. Surprisingly I have yet to find any of these types published in any yoga journals I’ve browsed so consider this an unofficial list until they are formally recognized. There’s a higher likelihood that I’ll be kidnapped by the Yoga secret police and put in Yoga jail and made to sit in a Lotus position for the entire term of my sentence. Here’s the list

The “Whoa I didn’t sign up for this!” Yoga Poser

There’s nothing easier to spot than someone in a hot Yoga studio that is not sure how they actually got there and clearly wants to leave immediately once the wave of heat hits them. My statistical calculations conclude that 37% are those who were talked into going by a friend, 17% went because they are trying to date the aforementioned friend and wanted to get them in bed to try all those poses that only yoga masters can accomplish, and 100% are male. You see a few of these guys come in and know they have no chance of survival just from the sheer look of terror in their eyes.  A few are blissfully ignorant like sheep being lead to the slaughter house but most accept the fate that awaits them and revert to the fetal position around the 2nd or 3rd pose and spend the next 87 minutes trying not to die.

The “Weapon of Mass Destruction” Yoga Poser

I think it was the 3rd yoga class I ever took I was in a forward bending position and a momentary lapse of strategic “clenching” resulted in the escape of a nano sized package of poisoned air from my backside. I was mortified and immediately tried to pass it off on the cute girl next to me who probably has never farted a day in her life and if she did it would smell like plumeria. WOMD Posers laugh at that. They live in a clench-free world where whatever escapes from their body is as its meant to be and typically park themselves in the first row of class to more efficiently distribute their fermented concoction to the already hot room. And they take pride in their output capabilities. The first time I experienced this I thought it was a joke until I saw the guy directly behind the culprit taking a direct hit and was mere seconds away from passing out due to oxygen deprivation. It was anything but a post yoga meditative state in the mens locker room after class when he confronted the violator who clearly forgot to check his weapon at the door. The only thing keeping this guy from body slamming guru McNoxious and put him in a savasana like coma were me and my posse of fellow posers holding him back.

The “I invented this pose” Yoga Poser

For every sport and other discipline that requires time and effort to master the craft there’s always the poser that wants to take the short cut. “Nice new impulsive $5000 road bike purchase bro. I’m sure that’s going to be the motivating key to finally getting rid of your beer gut” Yoga is not immune to these kind of swaggy bros. I’ve seen a few deviations but the proper recipe for this kind of yoga poser is 1 part loin cloth, 1 part male ponytail and 98 parts chutzpah. These posers walk into the studio like they are Bikram Choudhury himself, the pioneer of hot yoga and the reason you willingly plunk down $100+ per month to sit in a hot box for 90 min straight.  As a IITP poser they flaunt it like they have mad flexibility skill(z)s and could literally bend to kiss their own ass if they felt like they wanted to, but they don’t. The move is to work the room like they own it and slyly chant to themselves using sounds like resemble a 1st  century ancient language that only 3 people currently alive in the world can speak. Then they find a spot in the back of the class so they can minimize exposure on the fact that they really could care less about class, can’t hold the positions and spend the majority of the class transfixed on the hot girl they have strategically parked their mat behind.

I look forward to more yoga observational adventures once I come up for Yoga parole in 2020.

Namaste

Hot Yoga (Baking Times May Vary)

John Isner playing a Wimbledon match over 3 days…

Michael Jordon in triple overtime in 1993 NBA finals…

Ali vs Frazier in 12th round at Thrilla at Manilla….

All legends in the game but I claim none of these guys even got close to sweating as much as I did when I took part in my first ever Bikram yoga class. Referred to as hot yoga, you voluntarily place yourself in a 105 degree Fahrenheit room where you perform 26 different postures over 90 minutes, after which you’re baked to about medium rare depending on number of bastings. I was a little hesitant to try it but a friend who swears by the discipline and has the results to show for it convinced me to give it a shot and I figured the worst that could happen is I have a total body core shutdown so what the hell.

I walk in for the 9am class about 30 min early to ensure I get a good spot (next to the exit for a quick getaway if needed) As I enter the main lobby a wave of heat hits me and I think it’s tolerable until I realize it’s just a small sampling of the escaped heat from the main yoga room/oven. The earlier class is letting out and people are emerging from the room looking like they were just rescued from a week trapped in death valley. I consider a fast getaway but the receptionist still has my credit card. I try to remember if I bought the credit card insurance for purchases that could actually kill me. I did not.

Finally our class is let into the room and as I’m literally hit with a wall of heat that makes my eyebrow hair spontaneously combust I’m thinking 90 minutes my ass..my initial goal today is to last 90 seconds. I now long for the tranquil 85 degree environment of the reception lobby. Too late. I’m in and I’m committed. The very nice teacher spots the rookie in the class immediately (Hint – the guy looking on the floor for singed eyebrow hair) and formally welcomes me to Bikram. I suspect that is the insider language to coily announce that side bets on my survival are now being taken. I’m able to decipher that the over/under number on when I run screaming from the room is 37 minutes. The woman next to me clearly has the under number as she hauls out her own portable humidifier. Like 105 degrees is not enough for her. I make a mental note to sweat directly on her when possible.

Let the class begin. We start with some deep breathing exercise but I’m already way ahead of them with my own hyper ventilation technique to keep the air from starting a fire in my lungs. It doesn’t work. Then 3 minutes into the class I have to pee. Seems I took the pre-hydration warning a bit too seriously. 26 postures to go and fortunately the first one puts my bladder in a knot so I’m temporarily out of danger. .

Pose #2 . They call it Pada Hastasana  or Hands to Feet Bend all the Way Over Pose. I call it “Person in front of me please consider not wearing the shorty shorts for your next visit. Spandex can be your friend and mine” pose.

Pose #5 called Dandayamana (Standing Head to Knee Pose) My head has not touched me knee since that hard check I took on the boards at hockey game last year….by my own teammate none the less. He’s not here so I crash and burn pretty hard on this one

Pose #12 called Padangustasana (Toe Stand Pose)It’s as hard as it sounds. Support all of your weight on one set of toes. They might have just as much asked me to levitate off the ground in the seated position and I’d have about as much luck.

Pose #13 called Savasana (Dead Body Pose) Nailed it on the first try! It’s now 38 minutes in class. Dollars are exchanged between classmates. Humidifier girl turns up the dial just to spike me since I cost her $20.

Pose #14 called Pavanmuktasana (Wind Removing Pose) I quickly realize this refers to “inner” body wind and it’s at this moment I realize why there was a bit of a distinct smell emulating from the room when I first entered. On the plus side I’m one class in and my colon already feels 3 years younger.

Pose #16 called Bhujangasana (Cobra Pose) This represents the first pose where you are lying on your stomach and I realize very intimately that it’s been quite a while since I last cleaned my yoga mat. I’m extra motivated to pull my head off the matt but no matter how hard I try I can’t kiss my big toe which is what the woman next to me is doing….while applying nail polish at the same time. Showoff.

Pose #20 called Supta Vajrasana (Fixed Firm Pose) Instructed as a pose easy to accomplish, I find that to be true as I start in a seated kneeling position and bend all the way back until Im on my back, knees folded in. Feeling quite studly until I realize I have no idea how to get out of the pose. Thinking fast I announce to the room that I’m going for the fixed firm pose hold record which evokes cheers from my class brethren. Once I can no longer feel my lower extremities I am able to finally break free and revert back to the dead body pose.

Pose #21 called Ardha Kurmasana (Half Tortoise Pose) Im way ahead of the game as most of my external extremities went “full tortoise” atleast an hour ago from the heat.

Pose #22 Ustrasana (Camel Pose) Bend your head and neck all the way back while on your knees. This is when I realize Mr. Bikram was a visionary. Over an hour into class one might feel like barfing from heat exhaustion but in this pose he has ensured that you will only to puke on your own face. Genius!

85 minutes into the class the heat finally gets to me and I start to display rapid shallow breathing. The Yoga instructor is speechless and quite impressed at my ability to quickly adopt as it turns out this happens to be the final breathing exercise called Khapalbhati (Blowing in Firm pose)

90 minutes. Done. High fives all around save for mean humidifier girl. I gather my mat, exit the oven and feel the glorious 85 degree lobby air embrace all around me. For a moment I’m speechless until I instinctively shout out “SOMEONE GIVE ME MY FUCKING KLONDIKE BAR!!!

BTW I really loved the class and officially addicted!  🙂

Your Mama…

What’s up with all the Red Wing fans coming out of the woodworks when they come to town to play the Sharks? Haven’t see a Tiger fan at Oakland Collisium since Sparky Anderson still had dark hair.

Have to give it to the Sharks fans though. They channel their inner east coast die hard fan and step up in the playoffs. Best cat calls I heard last night at the sharks game when they clinched the Western Conference semi-finals to knock out the Wings

“Hey Lindstrom-Your mama face looks like she got hit with a Toyota with faulty brakes.

“Hey Babcock-You run a hockey team like GM manages a car company.

“Hey Draper – Shark fans think you suck but your boyfriend confirms you swallow”

“Hey Detroit – I hate you all and the entire east coast” (slight pause as the fan sitting next to him gives him an impromptu geography lesson) “and the midwest too”

Bring on the next victim.