A Dramatic Segue Into Unstoppable Fatherhood

I recently read an article from a long-time admirer of mine talking about some gaga he called reflective parenting.  Listen, I like Phil.  He means well.  He cleans up okay, he’s married to an Asian wife like another person I know and respect immensely, and he’s not a bad writer.  But I stopped reading this article the moment I got to

“Look, I’m not trying to claim I’m the world’s greatest dad. But I was given a coffee mug with that claim by my kids. I don’t mean to brag, but I’m pretty sure they did a quantitative exhaustive analysis of all da”  FULL STOP.

Listen.   You don’t need me to tell you that Justice Adam Gray is the greatest father on the planet; you already know that.  *I* already know that!   Do you think I need my daughter to verify that?  I tell *her* that.  Every day.  That’s called confidence.

Thereby, I can *also* tell you that any article that dares to claim otherwise automatically invalidates every other claim it has ever made on every single post ever written.  Now, if Phil had written a post saying, “Justice Gray is the best daddy around and I wish he was old enough to be *my* daddy!!” I could’ve gotten behind that.  Really, if you read between the lines that *is* what his post is saying, but I digress because we have things to talk about here that *don’t* involve Phil Haack for once.  And they are about how you can be half the dad I am…less than that if you are female though.

What in the world does this have to do with getting ripped and tearing apart a fully grown horse with your bare hands?  Well, not much…to the untrained eye.  But bear with me, this will all unfold into a rich tapestry* before you know it.

To set this up, I’d like to present you with something a fatherhood expert wrote on my wife’s blog about fourteen months ago, after the 19th comment thread about how to nurse.    As a bonus, you get to see pictures of one of only two people on the planet who are considered better-looking than the author!

“All Right, Enough of This Estrogen Fest”

By Justice A. Gray

Finally.  After all the “skin to skin”, “what’s my milk production like” and whatever other lady part-related stuff had been going on here, this is Baby L’s dad here in a guest post to talk about how my daughter is growing up to be a REAL MAN.  So proud!!  In addition to hating shopping almost as much as her father, she is also trying to emulate many of the other ways in which his masculinity is UNCHAINED…but in a feminine way.

babyl1

This photo occurred after I came home from the gym and told my daughter that her father busted out 20 chinups in a row.  As you can tell by the positioning of her hands my daughter obviously was ready to bust out a set of her own.  What enthusiasm!!  It would have brought a tear to my eye if I was capable of crying, but I can’t.  Apparently according to “Baby’s Best Chance” Baby L cannot either, another way she is just like her dad. 


Anyway, I’m nothing if not a responsible parent so I explained to her that she was a bit too young to actually do chinups, and that we’d revisit this in a year or two.

babyl2

Awwww.   But note the complete lack of tears.  My little lady has gigantic cojones!!  Metaphorical ones of course.

I then walked off for a couple of minutes to prepare for my shower.  I have a pretty elaborate ritual for showering:

a) take off my shirt

b) do my best Frank Zane behind the back bicep pose in front of the mirror

c) (optionally) take off the rest of my clothes

d) shower

Imagine my surprise however when after step b), I looked over to see this happy little face!!

babyl3

So if you’re one of the many ladies (or gents, I know you’re out there) wearing a frilly pink dress while reading this blog you’re probably thinking I made up this entire story just as an excuse to post pictures of my daughter.  First of all, I’d like to stress that this story in its entirety is true, Mrs L can verify.  Second, allow me to explain fatherhood from a man’s perspective – no bastion of testosterone ever posts albums upon albums of his child no matter how cute they might be (“ooooo yes you *are* Baby L!!  Yes *you are*!!  Daddy loves ya!!”).    That is what wives are for.

Here are the three points of this post:

a) my daughter is not only an aspiring lifter like her dad

b) my daughter obviously has an eye for burgeoning bodybuilding talent

c) most importantly I did twenty chin-ups in a row yesterday.

Thank you for your time,

A Mastodon”

Next: The tapestry unfolds!

* rich

Meets All Anti-Doping Regulations: The Story of Justice Gray and Athletic Alliance

When you are a paragon of physicality, you end up entertaining a *lot* of potential merchandising offers.   Whether the offer is for promoting someone’s software product, having my face on a cereal box, or licensing my signature so that it can be tattooed on people’s body parts, I eschew them all; I take being a role model for millions fairly seriously.   If there is *one* thing that Justice Gray is, it is a man of virtue, trust, and integrity!  But if there is a second thing Justice Gray is, it is a man who loves every supplement product currently produced by the lovely people at Athletic Alliance.

This is not going to be a post where I tell you that I received my first set of supplements from AA and immediately went to the gym and bench-pressed 700 lbs over my head 700 times*.  However, it *is* going to be a post to tell you all about why I do love this stuff:

1) Speaking as a superficial man, this packaging is the best looking packaging of any supplement brand I’ve ever seen.  Take a look for yourself:

If it was any better, you'd be sniffing it off of a glass table
If it was any better, you’d be sniffing it off of a glass table

Also note the message on each packet in small font: “meets all standard anti-doping regulations”.  In other words, people are going to suspect you are on steroids once you start using this stuff.

2) The protein supplement has colostrum in it.  For those of you not familiar with colostrum, it is the “liquid gold” that a mother produces in the first week post-childbirth.  I have no idea where Athletic Alliance is getting all this colostrum from.  What I *do* know is that if you don’t have a newborn mother whose breast you can suckle from, drinking Athletic Alliance protein is the next best thing for getting ripped and jacked.

3) I have to say, after two or three days worth of taking the protein and the pre and post workout stuff, I felt absolutely amazing.  Keep in mind who is telling you this – it is a man who routinely walks down the street ready to throw around moving vehicles because he is so hyped up.   This thing might meet anti-doping regulations but they have to be putting something else in there!  And whatever it is I could care less.  I cannot get enough of this stuff!!

4) Mixes well?  Sure.  Tastes great.  Of course!  Would I bother posting about this if it wasn’t true?  Many confirmations of that out there.  But let’s focus on what’s truly important here in point 5:

5) If there is only one thing that you take from this post, it is that if you want to be like Justice Gray…well forget *that*.  Don’t dream impossible dreams!  But if you want to be as close as you can be to it without resorting to illegal substances, I *highly* recommend buying 17 tubs of every supplement Athletic Alliance sells!!

* though I might’ve

A Dramatic Introduction To Unstoppable Masculinity

[To start this sucker off I’d like to liberally crib from a *previous* introduction I wrote back in the day, as the hip kids say…]

“I was in the checkout line at the grocery store last week, leafing through the Archie Digest when I heard the squeak of a lesser man’s voice.  I turned to find the grocery clerk gesturing at my bags, asking “Sir, do you need any help taking these out to your car?”  

I put the Archie Digest back without paying for it like any man with the testosterone of one thousand rampaging bulls would do.  Then I looked at him, flexed my massive arms, and snarled, “Do I *look* like I need any help?”  The clerk immediately soiled himself and dropped into the fetal position.  You might ask me why I was so callous to take an action that obviously mentally broke this man forever, never to recover.  And I would simply answer this is what a cage fighter does.

That is the point of this series – and as an aside, my wife asked me what indicated something like *this* would be a series, and my answer is simple – this post title ends with the word “Introduction”.  Obvious to the trained reader!  Anyway, the point of this series is to give you some exposure into what it’s like to be a man like me, who pretty much fights in kumates every single night.  Sometimes they are physical kumates, sometimes they are software development kumates, and sometimes they are kumates on the dance floor, but nevertheless my record is currently one billion to zero.

People think being a cage fighter/kumate master is not all fun and games, but trust me when I say it is.  Just look at the fun Steven Seagal has in any of his multitude of movies from the 90s.  Little known secret: if you have ever seen any Steven Seagal movie, you have seen something loosely based on my everyday exploits.  That is, except for the one where he is in a coma for 10 years straight, then comes out of it one day and *immediately* starts beating the crap out of people with hospital utilities – that is actually a complete rip off of my life from the ages of 7 to 17. 

Steven Seagal - Hard To Kill
Also known as “Justice Gray: A Love Story”

Each week or so, we will be exploring the following topics:

  • I will regale you with an amazing story of my ferocious physicality

  • You will marvel at this feat and make a mental note never to tell your wives, girlfriends or pets about this blog lest you destroy your relationship forever

  • On certain installments  you might be lucky enough to get a fitness tip that will lead you – should you choose, no, dare to implement it – to become a raging 1% body fat, 575 thousand pound engine of destruction

A disclaimer:

This is not some series for nancy boys who like charting waist-to-hip ratios, so if you’re busy counting calories on FitDay, telling your girlfriends how that cheesecake went straight to your thighs, gorging on McDonalds each weekend and then crying your eyes out under a pile of pizza boxes, I recommend you unsubscribe from this blog immediately.  Instead, if you are looking to become the He-Man or She-Ra of your friends and peers so that like them, you will be ripped and toned enough to wear bondage gear in public without the slightest hint of embarrassment, this is the place to be!!”

He-Man
The Original Cagefighter

The good news: this series, long dormant, is now ready to be continued, three years later!  The bad news:  you are not yet ready to hear it.  In the meantime, I recommend you print out this post twice – one copy for keeping underneath your pillow and another for your bathroom.  However I’m not responsible when your significant other questions why you’ve got a picture of He-Man and a picture of a terrifically handsome face next to each other in your shower.  Then after your inevitable breakup, you’ll be ready for “A Dramatic Introduction…Part Two!”

Next: a shocking but equally dramatic interlude!

Why I Lift – Part One of An Infinite Series

Justice Gray
Manliness in repose

Contrary to popular opinion, there is more to life for people like your hero than simply saving companies from themselves one project at a time.  Now I’m not here to brag; it takes a great man to be humble, and when it comes to humility there is no greater man than yours truly.  However if we are talking about being multi-faceted, the only proper analogy is that Justice Gray is like a great, mighty diamond hewn from the rock itself.   But I’m not a braggart.  So pretend this entire paragraph didn’t happen, and that should be easy because you are probably busy staring at that picture above trying to figure out

  1. how to make it into a poster
  2. why that man took a picture of himself looking like he got punched in the face!!  That’s called cultivating a rugged look.

It is with the spirit of monumental mountain man-ness that I write to you today telling you that after a long absence from the public, your hero is *back* because he has a passionate mission –  and that mission is the fitness of every man, woman, child and animal in North America.   Particularly those tiny hand-sized dogs I see people pushing around in *strollers* in Vancouver.  No one likes those dogs.  You know why?  You know why nobody liked Scrappy Doo?  Because you could snap him in two over your head with a well-placed backbreaker.  If nobody likes you, I can *guarantee* it’s for precisely the same reason.  But don’t worry, yours truly is here to save you from yourself…here to save you from being the Scrappy Doo of everyday existence.

Scrappy Doo
Please.

So why do I wake up at 4:30 AM every morning, stand in front of the mirror, look myself square in the eye, french kiss my reflection, and stomp off to the gym?  Why wouldn’t I just sleep?  Why wouldn’t I “just go for a walk, that’s exercise, isn’t it”?  Ask me this question in person one day and the next question you’re going ask is “why did you just give me a chokeslam through a burning table?”  And you’ll know why!

I do it – the waking up, the working out, the gorilla press slamming through burning furniture for my wife, for my daughter, for my friends and family, and even for myself, but most of all everything I do… I do it for you.

If that doesn’t get you revved up for the gym, nothing will

I do it because you need me to.  That’s right – you!  You sitting there wolfing down your delicious Oreo Cakesters, melting in your mouth as you read this.  You!  Hitting that sumptuous carton of espresso gelato instead of hitting the bench press. Lying in bed curled up with your computer, planning some “quiet time” with my picture instead of planning out your next set of chin ups.  Telling yourself “I’m still a man after doing 5 minutes of intense Zumba” instead of pulling on the women’s undergarments that said action deserves.  But that’s okay.  You’ll get there.  And when you do you will owe me one million dollars.

Next: an introduction.   “But I thought *this* was the introduction?”   Whose blog is this, jack!?  Let *me* do the talking.