Auricular Confession and Bodybuilding Coaching

In my early days of competitive bodybuilding, I saw many competitors who trained other, lesser-experienced competitors for contests.  I myself hired trainers to guide me in preparing for my contests.  I got to know the names of quite a few local trainers.

But after a while, I noticed something odd:  these same trainers, when it came time for them to compete, hired trainers for themselves.  I thought it odd because I reasoned that if these individuals were strong, wise, experienced, smart, and good enough to guide others, could they not guide themselves?  Sort of a twist on the Biblical injunction:  "Physician, heal thyself!"

But as I thought about it more, it made sense.  Bodybuilding contest prep is not an easy thing.  The severe diet and exercise regimens mess with your mind.  Substantially.  Even if you are experienced, you may not be the most objective decision-maker regarding your own conditioning and regarding the necessary actions to take to perfect it.  You need an outside set of eyes to help you see where your shortfalls are, where improvements can be made, and what to do in the way of a remedy for any lack.

After a long time, it struck me that the situation is like Auricular Confession within the church.  My naive view of bodybuilding coaches was akin to saying that certainly priests, being holy and good, and able to hear others' confessions, would not need themselves to confess!  It is laughable, of course, and helps point out my mistake regarding the bodybuilding coaches.

Priests confess, bishops confess, and even the Pope confesses.  And professional  bodybuilders, every one of whom has been victorious in high-level amateur competition, still have coaches.

The Anti-Trailer Queen!

In the car hobby, "Trailer Queen" is the phrase chosen to describe a car so perfectly finished and so clean (at least in the eyes of its owner) that it is never driven on the street.  It rides to shows on a trailer, preferably of the enclosed variety.

But for the past 10 to 15 years, a backlash against Trailer Queens has sprung up.  It is a back-to-roots kind of thing, fueled by the popularity of traditionally constructed rods and customs, as well as the so-called "rat rods", which are vehicles which are left without finished paint.

At the 2012 Detroit Autorama, we saw a beautiful bug-green custom that looked clean enough to be a trailer queen.  But, it was in the basement of Autorama, with the "rat rod" crowd.  Only later did my son find this photo of the same car, towing a beautiful gold hot rod.

So, not only is this beautiful lead sled not transported on a trailer, but itself is used as a tow vehicle.  Bitchin'!!  I wish I knew who owned these cars, so I could give proper credit.  If I see them at any of the shows this summer, I will find out the owners' names.  Below are photos I took of the cars at Autorama, before finding the photo above.

Meeting Dean Jeffries

Yesterday, at the 2012 Detroit Autorama, my son and I met one of our custom car design heroes, Dean Jeffries. Dean was at Autorama with one of his most spectacular (and earliest) creations, the Mantaray:

Dean was very gracious in spending so much time with us, and eventually my son Eliot got up the courage to ask to have his picture taken with our hero.

 

Besides building the Mantaray (which appeared in one of my favorite films, Bikini Beach) Dean Jeffries also built the Black Beauty car from the Green Hornet TV Series, and the Monkeemobile from the Monkees TV show.

And then, just when we thought it couldn't get any better, Eliot mentioned to Mr. Jeffries that he was training to be a car designer, that Mr. Jeffries had influenced him from a very early age, and asked him if he would sign a page of Eliot's sketch book.  He did!

Thanks, Dean!  It was GREAT to meet you!

Frost Fighter - Supreme Customer Service!

I blogged back here about adding a rear window defroster to my 1962 Mercury Meteor.  Not only was it a great addition to the vehicle, but it allowed me to interact with a great company ... Frost Fighter!

When I had some issues with my installation, these guys went the extra mile to make things right.  It seems rare these days that a company values its customers, but these guys do!

THANKS!

What Are They Putting in the Water in Oslo!?!?!

I don't know what they are putting in the water in Oslo, Norway, but it needs to be introduced into the water supply everywhere!  Starting with Metro Detroit.  Why?

To answer this question, merely consider:

Exhibit A - The Launderettes

Exhibit B - The Cocktail Slippers

Amazing girl group rock, the way it is supposed to sound!

Support music like this!  Economic support of great music is the only way to get more of it.

Wendell Scott

I had been planning to have a whole series of blog posts for Black History Month.  But for various reasons, that does not look likely to happen at this point.  But I didn't want February to go by without at least commending to you this film biography of Wendell Scott, the first (dare I say "the only") successful black driver in NASCAR.



What Scott accomplished is absolutely mind-boggling.  He started racing in the early 1950s, a decade before the civil rights movement heated up in America.  About four decades before NASCAR successfully moved beyond its roots as a regional Southern sport to become a national phenomenon.  He knew what he wanted and he didn't let anything stop him.  He faced tremendous persecution, marched into the heart of the beast (of white racism), and got what he wanted.

A Poem for Saint Valentine's Day

I wrote this poem today for my wife.  It's instead of flowers.  So, yeah, pray for me!


 Saint Valentine's Day

On this most blessed day, the candy sellers are the winners.
The scandal of a saint's day reimagined by the sinners.
The cards will fly, the lovers gorge, the florists will deliver.
Any everyone will hope to catch a dart from Cupid's quiver.
No fasting nor remembrance for you, dear St. Valentine,
But gluttony and avarice, and chocolate and wine.

If each day in the kalendar were stolen thus away,
We'd gobble gobs of Swedish fish upon St. Peter's day,
Or else each pair of lovers, driven on by high decrees,
Would have to exchange jewelry in the shape of golden keys.

On John the Baptist's Day, the silver chargers would accrue.
We'd swallow candy flaying knives for St. Bartholomew.
To honor Theodosia, we would swarm the beach with glee,
And gaily in her honor cast ourselves into the sea.

For Latimer and Ridley and Archbishop Cranmer's sake,
We Anglican romantics could burn hot dogs at the stake,
And just to wet our whistles as we watched the pretty flame,
Sip rich Ugandan coffee for the martyrs of the same.

The pagan in his revelry will never be contented
Until each fast becomes a feast, and all the year's unLented.
But as of now, be thankful that they scarcely have begun,
And of the days of martyrs have perverted only one.
For us who would remember of each martyrdom the price,
A lowered head, a silence, and a Collect may suffice.


©  2012, Paul Erlandson