Working for free, yo

Yup, began day by taking Luke for a long walk, then conference call from 9:30 to noon. Gah! I finished cleaning and rearranging master closet, with final count of 5 bags of clothes and shoes going to charity. I also cleaned out the closet under the stairs.

1-armed pull-ups
Dead hang hold for 25 seconds/arm and 25-second dead hang L-sit hold
5-arm banded negative 1-armed pull-ups

I may never be able to do a 1-armed pull-up, and that’s okay. It’s fun to at least work on skills.

50 RFT
Strict pushup + strict C2B pull-up

I averaged about 5.5 reps a minute. I ensured face check and nipples touched the floor for pushups, and I alternated grip each round of pull-ups. No failed reps.

10-9-8…3-2-1 fast calorie row
Wall crawl + wall-facing HSPU

I then had another 1-hour conference call (that lasted longer than an hour). I baked a pie shell and even made a mini pie shell with scraps. I’ve been craving coconut cream pie, so a double-coconut cream pie is what I made. I had 3/4 cup of lemon juice left over from lemon-buttermilk pound cakes I made for my sisters, so I made lemon curd. Oh. Em. Effing. Gee. So good! I filled mini pie shell with curd and had for my first dessert. Yup, first, as I also had a piece of coconut cream pie.


My hair began to recede whilst I was teaching college in the late 80s. I mentioned to my friend Tim, a Raleigh police officer, that I couldn’t find a barber that cut my hair short and close-cropped and he replied, “High and tight. I know the place. Ask for Kevin and tell him I sent you.”

The barbershop was located in downtown Raleigh and I visited it for the first time on a Saturday afternoon. Little did I know that it was the busiest day and time to visit. I also didn’t know (nor did I care) that all of the barbers and all of the clientele were African American. I entered the barbershop and looked for a receptionist. There was none. Someone said, “It’s first come, first served. Take a seat.” I grabbed a magazine and did just that. I waited a few moments and approached a barber who had just finished giving a haircut. “I’m looking for Kevin. My friend Tim, a Raleigh police officer, sent me here.” In retrospect those perhaps weren’t the best words to use. The barber approached Kevin, said something to him, and Kevin approached. “You’re next,” he said. He finished with his client and motioned me to his chair. “Isn’t this first come, first served? Aren’t there other people in line in front of me?” I asked. “Don’t worry about it,” he said. I told him I wanted a high and tight haircut and that’s what I got. I tipped him generously, as the haircut was inexpensive. I asked, “May I come back again?” “Yes,” Kevin replied, “but you might want to visit during the week when it isn’t so busy.”

And that’s what I did for the next couple of years. While I wouldn’t consider Kevin a close friend, he and I, along with many of the other barbers, had many captivating conversations about race relations. Kevin used to say, “You’re pretty cool for a white guy.” We’d both laugh!


It’s springtime in Asheville!

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