Grease, Homosexuality, and Roast Pork Sandwiches

Hey Gang,

So the other day I get this message on Facebook. I got defriended by somebody. Getting defriended on Facebook is almost as low as it gets. In fact the only thing lower short of being forced to eat out of dumpster or being friends with Jerry Novack, The Red Headed Boogie Child, and Me (that is an inside joke dedicated specifically to my friend Jerry Novack, you are not meant to understand it), is getting defriended on Facebook and getting a message attached letting you know about it. It hurts kind of like jumping onto a bicycle with the seat missing (Naked Gun).
But so I digress. You see, there is this trainer from the great state of Ohio who wanted to let me know how embarrassed he was that we share the same profession and that because of this he could no longer be my Facebook Friend.

Yeah, Really.

But wait, the Psycho stew gets thicker and with more ingredients added.
This trainer, let's call him Uptight Larry, read this blog and determined that after my vacation email and my roast pork sandwich post, that I was worse than a bad trainer. This threw me into a state of confusion since I am not sure how that state of being is possible. I one time saw a one legged man in an ass kicking contest and he had more pride than a bad personal trainer, let alone somebody who is worse than a bad personal trainer.

Uptight Larry informed me that it is bad enough that people eat foods like that but what is even worse is when a member of the fitness profession encourages eating such foods. If not even by suggestion, Larry said, but by a tacit approval through consuming those foods by oneself you are setting a bad example for the general public and that cannot be tolerated.

Uptight Larry informed me that not only does he not “LET” his clients eat those foods, he doesn’t even “LET” them microwave their foods either since it according to him “Leaches and Kills important nutrients from the diet guaranteeing that you will have a weight problem and be set for a life riddled with poor health and disease”.
No crap.
Now I think Larry has a problem and it just starts with his need to “Not Let” people do stuff.
You see, I feel bad for Uptight Larry; I really do, because down deep I feel he has the potential to be one of the finest people I have never met. In fact, before Uptight Larry, I am not sure if I ever met somebody worthy enough that I could have devoted an entire blog post too. So in honor of the greatness that is Uptight Larry and all those other health nut put your nose up at sugar, fat and alcohol wannabe benevolent dictators I want to give one bit of free advice.
You need to watch the movie Grease

Homosexuality

No, this isn’t going to be some crude “Get Travolta out of the closet” reference. In fact I think we need to leave Travolta alone and give the man some respect. I know he is all bloated and crazy and stuff but at one time that guy could really dance. That should mean something.
Anyway, about eleven years ago I was training this guy, let’s call him Mike. Mike was and still is by all accounts a homosexual. Since I was young and stupid and didn’t know many openly homosexual people at that point I asked Mike a very thoughtful if not stupid question. Given the fact that I wanted to understand Mike better I asked him when was the first time he realized he was gay. Taken aback by this Mike retorted “When was the first time you knew that you were straight!”
That was a big mistake on his part because when you have a dude whose brain is as twisted as mine is you are going to get an answer to that question. I do remember the moment when I knew I was straight.
It happened when my family got its first VCR in the early 80’s. I remember that VCR because it weighed like 100lbs and was thick enough to stop a 50 caliber round. It had one of those pop top ejector cassette tops, a real survivor of the earlier VHS versus BETA wars.
Either way, one day I was watching the movie Grease and I couldn’t have been more than 6 or 7 years old. Now before we go any further don’t get pissed at my parents over letting a little kid watch Grease. Ninety Nine percent of that damn movie went completely over my head. It wasn’t until I was an adult that I realized how messed up and heavy some of the subject matter was. In fact I remember wondering why Rizzo was at the drive in movie when it was well known around town that she had a bun in the oven. I couldn’t figure out how she expected to get home in time before her bun got burned and ruined. I remember thinking that when I get old enough and have my own oven I was going to make buns every day. Pillsbury cinnamon buns at that because as a child my mom only let me have them but once a month.

But where were we? Oh yeah, so Grease is on the whole time and I am completely bored by Sandra Dee (Olivia Newton John) until that scene at the end where she comes out and she is that naughty little whore and I said to my six year old self “I like that”.
I had no idea why but there was something about her in those friggin pants. It drove me nuts. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that I grew up in Central Jersey, I just don't know.

Upon telling my client Mike this he admitted that Grease was a turning point for him too as a child. Not because he wanted a hickie from Kinickie (it’s like a hallmark card) but that when he saw Olivia Newton John in those pants he didn’t want to get in them, he wanted to wear them.
Now to make already long story longer my point is this. From a very young age we are who were are and sometimes we have no control over that. My client Mike is Gay, I like hot chicks in tight black pants and I like roast pork Italian sandwiches. In fact, for the most part I like food. A lot. And nothing I try to do is going to change that. Now I could go Psycho like our buddy Uptight Larry and start dropping people off of Facebook and telling them what to eat and all but where would that get me. It would be like getting my client Mike a subscription to Playboy. It’s not going to change anything and if you read the works of guys like Carl Jung it might lead you to believe it would probably make things worse.

According to Jung we all have a shadow, a dark side (Mr. Jung should know given the fact he had a lady on the side for many years and she wasn't his wife) and the more we try to bury that shadow it the bigger and hairier it becomes. Kind off like a morally reprehensible Chia Pet that somebody just keeps on watering.

I like food a little bit much, so you could say that my love of food, well above and beyond it's need to nuture my body, is part of my shadow. But instead of trying to repress it, I will embrace it because it is part of my experience of life. That roast pork sandwich that I eat at every Flyers game is part of the life experience of the flyers game just like turkey is to thanksgiving or chocolate bunnies are to Easter or brisket is to Passover etc. etc.
Without that sandwich, which I must say god bless it and the city of Philadelphia from which is resides, the game experience would just not be the same.
Now granted I do it with half a brain in mind. I have my “cheat meals” but they are a some of the time thing, not an all of the time thing. In fact, before I even ever had a cheat meal I got lean enough that my body had the muscle and metabolism to handle it.
But to say that enjoying good food is wrong, that is just stupid. Throwing a bag of kittens is into a river is wrong. Robbing a bank is wrong. Those are moral decisions. Eating a cheeseburger with fries doesn’t even come close.
Take it from me, you have to come up for air every now and then or else you might wind up like Uptight Larry. Any time you try to bury your shadows bad things will happen. The way I look at it you have a choice. You can either identify and embrace who you are and find positive ways to work around the not so pretty parts or you can wind up like one of those repressed anti-homosexual and anti sex preachers who gets caught banging dudes in a bathroom at the airport or found with a dead hooker in your trunk.
Then again, it might also make you eligible to run for office. What the hell do I know.
Till next time, yours in chocolate chip cookies.
Mike Cruickshank