“The ramblings and grumblings of author Ad Hudler”

Butt Disease and Medical Lies
Tuesday, March 30, 2010

Yesterday at the gym a friend showed me a magazine article that said one of my favored leg exercises (weighted lunges) was bad for your back. Or maybe it was rotator cuffs. Or maybe the spine. I can't remember for sure. At any rate, if this is true it means I'm in deep trouble.

Lunges, which help tone the thighs and, more importantly, the buttocks, are critical for my day-to-day happiness. Let me explain.

I have no ass. Okay, so I do have an ass, but my butt cheeks could be confused with those of a droopy, 85-year-old man. You see, my two butt bones, or whatever those things are called, have almost direct contact with any hard surface when I sit because I have no natural padding. The same gene pool that gave me this incredible brain and handsome face also neglected to give me butt fat.

As a result, I can't sit for long without developing what my friend Leah has since named butt disease. Those critical lunges help build a layer of muscle that provides me at least a small amount of padding.

My wife thought I was exaggerating about my butt disease until I drove one of our cars from New York to Minnesota during a move. It was a most painful trip, stopping only for gas. The next day, I proudly dropped my drawers and underwear, turned my backside to my wife and exclaimed, "See!? See?! Do you believe me now? Butt disease! Look!'' And I pointed to my peach-sized bruises, one in the middle of each cheek. It looked as if I had stood on home plate, my back to the world's fastest pitcher, and yelled, "Okay! Give me one right HERE! And over here on this side, too!"

So you can see: If I don't do my lunges twice a week I will spend countless hours shifting in my seat, muttering under my breath. It even affects my sleep.Stop my lunges? Why? How can I believe the truth of this new medical fact? How many times in the past 50 years have we been told one cast-in-concrete medical fact, only to have them claim the exact opposite a few years or decades later? Remember when they said smoking was good for you? That it helped fight off colds? And what about crib death? The nurse at the hospital told us with great earnestness 17 years ago, "Do NOT let this newborn sleep on her back because she can choke on her own vomit and die." Yeah, but, lo and behold, that same nurse is saying this today: "Do NOT let this newborn sleep on her stomach because she will smother herself on the mattress and die."

There are plenty others: Red wine is bad for you. NO! Wait a minute, it's GOOD for you.

Always use antibacterial soap because it helps keep you healthy. …. NO! Wait! Don't use antibacterial soap; you are killing the beneficial bacteria your body needs, and thus jeopardizing your immune system. You will DIE if you use too much Purel.

I suddenly felt challenged to come up with a list of medical/safety realities that are unequivocally, permanently true:

Do not put your hand down the garbage disposal while it is running. This will result in severe injury to both skin and bones. (I saw this once in a movie, in which an intruder wanted to torture the husband of the house.)

Do not eat broken glass.

Do not dress in a burka or turban and drive through Idaho on holiday.

Do not spray Lysol into your eyes to combat infection.

Do not say to your wife or daughter, "That dress makes you look fat."




Magic Coffee
Sunday, March 28, 2010

Me to a friend: "Yeah, I really shouldn't go too far from the house after I've had my morning coffee."

Friend to me: "Yeah, I know what you mean. I call it "whole grain coffee."




A word about Tiger
Friday, March 26, 2010

People: Lay off of Tiger Woods. He's an ATHLETE, for chrissakes. Not a priest. Not the president of the United States.

Why this obsession with the importance of him showing remorse? Why do you think he must prove his sincerity to us? He DOESN'T!

This is none of your business or mine.

Why can't we hold our politicians to such scrutiny, hmmm? Spend the time you're using to fret about a professional golfer and use it to read and understand more about our healthcare reform or our country's policies in east Asia.

Off soapbox.




A New Word! Now ... if only I knew what it meant!
Wednesday, March 24, 2010

Now and then even an author comes across a word that sends him running to the dictionary (and, yes, I still prefer my 4-inch-thick Websters to dictionary.com ... though I do use the latter as well).

This was in a story published in The Economist, which is my family's newsweekly magazine of choice. It's published in Britain though has a large section of American news, and it's the best written, most thoughtful journalism out there today.

At any rate, in a story about the Olympics, a writer called Canada "a fissiparous country often seemingly racked by self-doubt."

Websters defines it as "reproducing by fission."

Okay, then, that sure tells me a lot. Thanks, guys.

Any ideas on this one? And BTW: It's pronounced fih-SIPP-er-ous.




Viagra ... from the farm
Monday, March 22, 2010

So I went into GNC and told them that the vitamin mix I had been using was making me very jumpy. I'd wanted the "sport pack" to supplement my hard workouts at the gym, but there were two pills in that pack that had caffeine and made me feel as if I wanted to crawl out of my skin.

"What else can I use?" I asked the clerk.
"How about this virility pack?" he asked.
"Do I need a virility pack?"
"I don't know -- do you?" he asked.
"Well, it sure couldn't hurt anything, could it?"
"A lot of guys like this," he said. "Go for it, dude."

So I bought the virility pack. And when I got home I looked at the fine print on the box. Here's the ingredient that caught my eye:

Horney Goat Weed Powder.

Here's what I found on the web: Horny Goat Weed, native to China, got it's name when a goat herder noticed that after his goats ate a certain weed they would become increasingly promiscous. This herb has not yet been thoroughly investigated, so little is known about the way Horny Goat Weed works. It has been used for over 2,000 years to not only increase sexual libido in both men & women and boost erectile function but also to lessen physical fatigue and treat discomforts brought on by menopause.

First my news about thongs and urinary tract infections ... and now this. I'm going to start charging y'all for free medical advice.




Spring Break 2010: Not just for kids
Friday, March 19, 2010

I have NO IDEA who these people are, or where this photo was taken. Someone here looks a lot like me. And there's someone who looks a lot like my wife, Carol, and my good friends, MaryJayne and Steve. But this is NOT us. It couldn't be; we were at a symposium on global warming all week long.




This blog has moved
Wednesday, March 17, 2010


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A Fort Myers Moment


I'm in the waiting room in the service department at Fort Myers Honda, putting some tires on my daughter's car. I came here at 7:00 a.m. so was thrilled to find a coffee machine in the lobby. Not just any coffee machine, mind you, but one of those fancy gourmet contraptions where you choose your flavor of high-end coffee (in a pouch) and insert it into a machine for a personalized and delicious cuppa Joe.

But this is Fort Myers, land of Buicks and early-bird specials. And most of the customers around me are men in their sixties or older, and they really HATE this coffee! They're sitting around me, complaining about it. Absolutely grumbling. They are accustomed to a different kind of coffee: institutional, not as strong, more like brown water infused with essence of coffee.

"This damned coffee's burned!" says one.

Another man is reading "Trigonometry For Dummies."

Most of them are wearing baseball caps.

Also popular with retired men: New Balance Tennis shoes....and I'm not sure why.

They are reading newspapers.

And watching me text on my phone.

And I am left wondering: how did this generation of men and women who built the strongest country on earth do so by drinking weak coffee?




Fast-food Adventure: Post #744G4
Monday, March 15, 2010

A reinvention gone awry:

Have y'all seen the weird new incarnation of the Big Mac?
Here's what they did. They took a Big Mac, everything except the bread, then chopped it all up into little pieces, and then put it in a wrap. I advise against trying it. It's as if someone popped a whole Big Mac into his mouth, decided he didn't like it, then spit it into a flour napkin. Yeegods, that's exactly what it looks like.

Methinks McDonalds needs some new innovative spirit.




Here they come!
Friday, March 12, 2010

My Florida-cracker daughter (cracker is what you call a native Floridian) is coming home from Ohio for spring break this weekend, and she brings with her a vanload of fellow college girls dying for sunshine and nicer weather. It's been pretty cold here -- hell, it's been cold everywhere, hasn't it -- but it looks like things are going to warm up nicely for them.
Oh, and good friends from Kansas are coming as well. Total household tally: 8.

They should roll into town late Saturday, so I've got lots to do:

-Find that aerobed that I haven't had to use since the last hurricane.
-Complete one HUGE trip to the supermarket. I'll have so many groceries that the checkout clerk will ask, "Is there a hurricane coming?"
-Set up the badminton net.
-Make sure I know where my ear plugs are.
-Sharpen kitchen knives (They'll be busy! Lots of cooking.)
-Reorganize refrigerator to accommodate 4,523 bottles of water and soda
-Hide family photos that my daughter will find embarrassing
-Practicing masking my own eccentricities so I don't embarrass my daughter.

It'll be a lot of work. But I'm looking forward to it. I sure miss that kid of mine. And it'll be nice getting to know her friends.




Mayhem on the patio
Wednesday, March 10, 2010

I recently was cutting down a small tree on my patio, and at one point I put a saw into my pocket and reached down with both hands to pull out an obstinate root. Suddenly, the root snapped loose, and my hand went flying backward with the force of a 3,650-man army, right onto the saw.

It sliced into my pinky, all the way down to the bone.

I went to the ER to get it fixed, and as the doc sewed me up he asked me what happened. I told him the honest truth.

"You're a writer," he said. "Can't you come up with something better than that? Something sexier? You're going to be laughed out of town. Who puts a saw in his pocket?"

"Okay, how's this?" I said. "Some asshole was badtalkin' my woman, and I let him have it, and that little sumbitch bit my finger clear through to the bone ... but not before I knocked out three of his teeth."

"Much better," he said.




Chinese secret
Monday, March 8, 2010

So I was showing a new friend around my hometown of Fort Myers today, and I learned a new phrase that you're going to love.

He's white but is married to a Chinese woman, and I noticed he already had the name of the only good Chinese restaurant in town.

"Yeah, it's good," I said, "And it's filled with Chinese, so I know it's good. But let me tell you what: I don't get the same food that they do. Their food always looks better than mine. I mean, I tell them that I want authentic Chinese, the real stuff, but they never listen to me. They give me that same slop that I get at every Chinese takeout in every strip center. And the Chinese eaters in the restaurant? They're served beautiful steaming platters of the stuff that I want."

My friend said this: "That's because you're Lo Fan.

Evidently, Lo Fan means WHITE RICE! It's the pejorative Chinese use to describe white folk. Don't you love that? I compare this to what the black kids called my daughter in her urban grade school: white cracker.

I'm just totally loving this new knowledge. Next time I go to a Chinese restaurant I'm going to try saying, "I'm NOT Lo Fan, so please bring me the authentic stuff."




HEALTH WARNING TO MY THONG-WEARING FEMALE READERS
Thursday, March 4, 2010

Okay, this is interesting as heck. Might be the most under-reported medical story of the decade.

A very good friend of mine recently got back from her OB-GYN, where she had to be treated for her fifth urinary tract infection in a year.

Finally, her doc got smart and asked her: Do you wear thong underwear?

The answer was yes, and the doctor said, "Aha!"

Apparently thong underwear have created a surge in UTI's! Throughout the course of the day, that stringy bottom goes back and forth down there, like a tug-of-war match, carrying fecal matter and germs directly to ... uh ... to its neighbor. (Trying to be delicate about this.)

Anyway, my friend's doc's advice: Wear thongs when you're "going out" (I think she meant "hooking up"), but when you're on your own be sure to wear normal panties.

I know this is strange coming from me, a guy, but I know a lot of my readers are women, and I thought this was really good advice.





Is profanity hereditary?
Wednesday, March 3, 2010

My daughter knew things ... bad things ... long before she should have, and it's my fault.

One of her first spoken words, for example, would get most kids kicked out of pre-school, or at least sent home for the day. My wife had warned me to clean up my mouth around our baby-turning-toddler. "She absorbs everything you're saying," she said. "You need to stop cussing in the car."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah ... sure, Carol, yeah, thanks a lot for your concern. I'll be sure to note this."

And then one day, some idiot pulled out in front of me in the supermarket parking lot.

"You ...!!" I yelled, stopping myself before finishing the sentence with a cuss word. "You! YOU! ... YOU! ... YOU!" (I felt constipated ... unable to finish something I so desperately needed to finish.) "YOU... YOU!! ... YOUUUUUU ..."

And at this point my not-yet-2-year-old daughter pulled the binky from her mouth and finished my sentence for me.

"Douche bag!" she yelled.

Wife, 1. Husband, 0.




Is that a birdy in Ad's computer?
Tuesday, March 2, 2010

I told you a few days back that I started tweeting on twitter. It is no secret among authors that blogs are on the way out, and they've been replaced by facebook and twitter.

If you're not my friend on facebook, you really should be. I give great status reports.
And on twitter I'm AdHudler.
Note to people not on facebook: Don't be afraid of it. If I can do it, believe me, YOU can do it. I am a technophobe moron.

Actually, I'm enjoying the Twitter. You can tweet from anywhere on a cell phone, and I have found it to be a nice way to pass the time while standing in line at the grocery store or filling my truck with gas ... except in Florida, where the stupid laws don't allow gas stations to have those catch thingies on the pump trigger.

Here are some recent tweets of mine:

"Starting to plan the menues for daughter and friends coming back to Florida for spring break. I'm thinking Nachos and cereal"

"cat is in the dog house: all night long, on the bed, then off, lick my face, etc. Note to cat: I am not a pillow."