I Guess There Always Room for a Rant...

...so I was reminded by by old friend Angi S.

I pretty much boycotted blogging since I had nothing useful to talk/rant about. However, my friend Angi told me there were numerous world events about which I could rant... or I could simply rant about the lack of rant-worthy material. Well, damn, even I'm not THAT glass half-empty kinda guy. But if you ask, the Lord with provide. And boy did He provide for me last Monday in the gym.

I'm really enjoying lifting more these days and am getting on the upswing of taking it moderately seriously. If I can get to bed at a reasonable hour I like to workout before work. This means getting up at 4:30, drinking a pre-workout shake of crazy juice, planning the specifics of my workout and then hitting the gym in time for its 5am opening.

You usually get the same cast of characters when you go to the gym at the same time everyday. So let's introduce our primary players.

Chargers man-- this guy is about 5 feet tall, wears the same San Diego Chargers tee-shirt to the gym everyday (though it never smells badly) and is really nice.

Old, Fat, Nasty Redneck (aka red)-- this guy is fat as hell (despite working out everyday), loud, curses a lot, loves to joke with everyone in a borderline obnoxious manner and is known to carry multiple firearms in his truck.

Me-- you already know me.

So I hit the gym with an Auburn hat on to cover my bed head, and knock out a warm up set when I'm greeted with "my day was okay 'til this guy walked in wearing this Auburn sh1t." I just smile and ignore it.

Chargers man and red are working out together. Actually, red is watching Chargers man work out and says "I just enjoy watching you work hard while I relax." Chargers replies "yeah, I'm working myself into a heart attack."

Red, in his infinite medical wisdom explains to Chargers man, "you know who is most likely to have heart attacks? Guys in their early 40's like this guy right here wearing all this Auburn sh1t." Hey, I'm only 36, phuck you very much.

I mean, what do I do? This guy is right there waiting for a reaction but all I can is smile and just laugh off this fat, sweaty biscuit-eater who is begging for something. So then he feels he has to directly speak to me.

Red: I still don't like that Tooberville (he pronounces the first syllable "tube" not "tub") guy.
Me: Why? Because he wins so much?
Red: Nah, the way he did Ole Miss.

Holy cow. That was nine years ago. This explains everything. This guy is obviously an Ole Miss fan still hung up on the Civil War, Manning (not Eli or Peyton, but Archie) and the fact that Tuberville left Ole Miss and took a step up to Auburn.

But I'll try to appease this guy 'cause he's looking for someone to unleash something on.

Me: The way Rodriguez left WVU and Saban left the Dolphins makes Tuberville look like a saint.
Red: Well, I don't like they way the SEC treats coaches. Look at Shula. He didn't do anything wrong and he got fired just because he lost to Auburn 2 years in a row.
Me: No, he lost 4 years in a row.
Red: I still don't like the SEC and the way they do things.

And then, the most unexpected thing I could have ever heard from a redneck of this stature....

Red: That's why I'm a Notre Dame man.

So many comebacks, so little breathe. I'm speechless. I can't even think straight. This was the most priceless thing I could have ever heard. It's like when you order water and you don't realize your waitress actually brought you Diet Coke until that first shocking drink. I was floored.

This guy could not have anything in common with Notre Dame more than my dog does. I mean, picture it-- this guy curses like a sailor and is so fat he has small biospheres thriving in his fat rolls. This dude makes Charlie Weiss look like Gilad.

At this point I'm sprinting all over the gym. My friend, Armando, who is a bona fide graduate of Notre Dame usually works out in the mornings. I'm dying to find Armando because I've got to introduce him to a fellow Golden Domer-ish.

By the time I realize Armando is not there and I decided to find this guy and verbally abuse him, he's gone. It's 5:15. The gym has been open for 15 minutes and he's already finished his workout.

Universes are about to collide. One day, I'll find this guy and Armando in the gym at the same time and I'm gonna make sure they end up as Facebook friends. I can't wait.

You're welcome, Armando.