Tag Archives: P90X

Extreme Fletchercise

As Americans learned more about vice presidential candidate Paul Ryan over the weekend, it was most likely intended that we each find something about the man we could relate to. I know I did.

Yesterday’s Washington Post reported:

“In his private life, Ryan pursues the hobbies of an everyman with an overachiever’s zeal. He sweats through grueling ‘P90x’ workouts in the House gym. He beats other legislators in contests to recite the most lines from ‘Fletch.’ And he fishes for catfish – with his bare hands.”

I’d take him. In a Fletch-off, that is. I’m not proud of this, but I’ve got the whole movie memorized. I even have an autograph that Chevy Chase wrote to me in 1988, suggesting I name my unborn baby Fletch. No kidding.

Well, good as Paul Ryan may be, I can’t imagine him and his fellow legislators vying for such a distinction as reciting the most lines from this zany movie. Or maybe I can.

Call me crazy, but this might just unlock the secret to bipartisan civility. Visualize House Budget Committee Chairman Paul Ryan, sitting with the Committee’s ranking Democrat, Rep. Chris Van Hollen, in the Members’ Dining Room.

Ryan: I’ll have a Bloody Mary and a steak sandwich, and a steak sandwich.
Van Hollen: Just get me a glass of hot fat. And bring me the head of Alfredo Garcia.

The two finish lunch and part with a tee-hee about Dr. Rosenpenis in the Records Room.

I dare Congressman Ryan to work a line into his acceptance speech at the GOP convention, or maybe in his debate against Vice President Biden. Perhaps, if backed into a corner on how he’d pay for further tax cuts, he can reply simply, “Put it on the Underhills’ bill.”

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Filed under Movies, Television and Radio, News, Politics

Night terror

Do you know those tests the sleep specialists show on television to demonstrate what happens to drivers when they’re sleep deprived? Poor judgment, slower response time, even hallucinations come into play when a human does not get sufficient sleep.

This morning, I am tipping orange cones all over the place.

Yesterday I flew to California, worked until almost midnight and went to bed after being up for 23 hours. Then I woke up three hours later, still in the West but with my rhythms in the East.

For the last two hours I’ve tried everything that usually works for me—reading, getting up and walking around, even having an informercial playing softly in the background. The latter usually works like a charm. Not this time. But I can tell you everything you’ve ever wanted to know about the P90X fitness program and something about the anti-aging magic of melon extract that keeps Cindy Crawford’s and Valerie Bertinelli’s faces frozen in time.

Looking back over this, I’ve counted more than a dozen typos and, I hope, corrected all of them. I’ll check back again after this afternoon’s nap.

Aside from sleep aids—which aren’t an option when you’re an hour and a half away from the alarm going off–what works for you when you’re wide awake, yet more tired than you’ve ever been, at 3:00 a.m.?  Other than blog–I’ve tried that.

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