Wednesday, June 20, 2012

An Actual Blog Post!

So, I've realized that all my blog posts are about me. That is pretty crappy. I guess it is called The Ranga Blog, so it's ok. But really, come on. So on this one, we're changing it up a bit.

TheWife and I were having a conversation the other day and I thought the results would be interesting to post up here. The question posed was: "What are 10 things that, in your mind, every guy should be able to do?" I'll start with my thoughts and finish up with TheWife's. Clearly, we were both thinking a bit differently--I was thinking of things that make a man more manly, while she was thinking in more of a romantic, "make me feel secure" light. Either way, here we go:

1. Swim

This isn't just confined to guys. In my opinion, every person on earth should be able to do this. After all, isn't our planet 75% covered in water? But, it's quite important. I hate swimming, but thank my stars that Mom made me go to weekly lessons with the Speedo-clad Parisian named Pascal at ULM for lessons. There was lots of crying, and the smell of the Natatorium back home still haunts me, but I know how to swim and that's what matters. In fact, UNC deemed this skill so important as to declare it a graduation requirement until 2006, when I guess it became less important. Bottom line: college graduate or not, we should be able to swim, if only for one reason: if our sons or daughters fall into a pool, we should be able to jump in and save them. Astoundingly, there are too many stories of adults whose children wandered into a pool or a pond and either the child drowned or the adult/parent, not knowing how to swim, drowned in an attempt to save the child. Like this tragic story that happened in my hometown.

Also, if that's a bit heavy, swimming makes vacation way fun. So yeah, learn how to swim.

TheRanga's score: Pass (thanks, Mom!)

2. Drive a Stick Shift

Clearly, this is on my list, not TheWife's. Men are into cars, and cars are at their coolest in a manual transmission. It's that simple. The feeling of control, the artistry, the connection between you and the car--I can't imagine anything much better. And I can't even drive a stick. I just know that it looks mad cool when someone can. And I feel emasculated because I can't.

Part and Parcel to this is 2a. Have some automotive knowledge--if you and YourWife are on a date and the car isn't starting, it's nice if you have some inkling of an idea what's going on. Is there water in the carburetor? Is the battery dead? Is the alternator in need of replacement? It's something that would serve every man well, and probably make him a bit sexier to his ladyfriend(s).

TheRanga's score: Fail. Massive Fail. On both accounts.

3. Wear One Suit Very Well

Let's face it. We're all professionals now. And many of you are still single. Any lady will tell you that a man looks just about his best when he's neatly groomed and nattily attired in a great suit. See: Ryan Gosling in just about any suit. The guy knows how to dress, and clearly, the ladies love him. Thus, there is no reason to head to the office Christmas party or charity gala looking like a 7th grader in Dad's suit.

Get a good, worsted wool suit and make sure it fits pretty well off the rack. The shoulders of the jacket should end where your shoulders end, not after they end (you'll look like the aforementioned 7th grader) and not before they end (you'll look like a fatty in a small suit whose arms are bulging out of his jacket sleeves). When buttoned, you should be able to slip your open hand, palm to chest, in between the jacket and your shirt comfortably. Form that hand into a fist, and the jacket should tug firmly at the top button. No fabric bunching around the back of the neck. Follow those pointers, and you have a jacket that fits your chest and shoulders, and that is the most important part. When standing with arms at your side, the bottom of your jacket should be level with the top of your palm--you know, where the calluses are from all your weightlifting. The sleeves should end just the tiniest bit north of the base of your thumb (ie, where your wrist and thumb meet). This will allow an appropriate amount of shirt cuff to show underneath.

If you've gotten this far, you're ready to hit the tailor (and NOT the tailor at the department store where you're buying this suit). Find a real tailor who has good reviews on Yelp or some other rating site, and test him out first with a pair of business casual slacks. If he does the slacks well and does them the way you've instructed him to, then you've most likely got a guy who can deal with your suit. Bonus points if the guy actually does custom suiting, shirting, etc. and makes his own garments and seems to possess some sense of style himself. With this tailor, have him "suppress the waist" as it's called--to take the suit in a bit in the midsection so that a nice silhouette of your body shape shows. A well-fitting suit should have a slight V-shape to it that accentuates the shape of your body. Like Will Arnett seems to know. No straight down lines--there's no character in that and you end up looking boxy. As a rule of thumb, when buttoned, you should not be able to sit down comfortably in the suit. At your events, you'll be unbuttoning to sit down anyway, but following this rule means you'll have a nice fit when you are standing up, suit buttoned, drink in hand.

Finally, if you want a bit more of a modern look, have the sleeves and jacket shortened just a hair. On sleeves, you should be showing 1/4 to 1/2 inch of shirt cuff underneath when standing. More than 1/2 inch is a bit loud, but seems to be trendy now. Similarly, taking the jacket length up from top-of-palm to mid-palm or even base-of-thumb seems to be in right now. These are not exactly timeless alterations (read: don't do these trendy things to your classic Canali or Purple Label suit), but seem to be "in" right now. Some of these teeny-bopper types seem to have sleeves that are longer than their jackets. I'm not a fan, but hey, I guess some people find it quite becoming.

Get one suit, stick to these basics, and then fancy it up with a good shirt and a great tie, and the women will say "My my, he cleans up nice."

Part and parcel to this is 3a. Know How to Dress--wear shirts that fit, wear pants that fit, have your own sense of style, but also understand some basics like "don't wear jean shorts" and "wear things other than plain black t-shirts with cargo shorts all the time," Anant. Wear a casual blazer when appropriate. Invest in a great pair of black shoes, a great pair of brown shoes, and a casual pair of loafers. Those types of things.

TheRanga's score: TBD. Getting there, I hope.

4. "Own" One Sport or Team

There are certain guys that I don't like talking to because they are just flat-out tough to talk to. If that happens, I always rely on my fallback: sports. In some cases, that makes the aforementioned guy a bit more pleasant to talk to; in other cases, the guy will have no discernible interest in sports, and I begin questioning his manhood and usually give up on talking to the idiot.

Clearly, TheWife gives no credence to this item on the list, but this one is important to TheRanga. I love sports. I love watching sports, I love playing sports, I love talking about sports, I love reading about sports. Most of the guys I know have similar feelings. I think, with every man I know, I can associate at least one sport or sports team with him. And if I can't, then he and I probably aren't great friends. Man-love for sports leads to spirited conversations, passionate debates, hilarious email strings, a fall full of fantasy football fun, more fun when hanging out and of course, a mutual understanding of "You like at least one sport. Ergo, you are a man." Enough said.

TheRanga's score: Pass. An unnecessarily high passing grade, if you ask TheWife.

5. Cook

Yeah, I said it. There's a certain self-sufficiency about a man who knows how to cook, and any woman will tell you she loves a man who knows how to cook. For a romantic night with the lady, it's an unequivocal winner. Even if you burn the shit out of everything, rest assured she'll be thinking "at least he tried" while you both chow down on Papa John's.

Get the basics down. Breakfast is an easy department and one owned by most men-of-the-house, including Dad. Eggs, bacon, biscuits and gravy, some homemade hash browns, perhaps some pancakes, who knows. Even dinners can be easy--as Anant says, "master one concept, and all the adjacent recipes will follow." For instance, with Anant's help, last night I infused hot olive oil with some garlic and red chili flakes, then sauteed some chard and mixed nuts in the oil. The concept is now there--infuse oil, add greens, add crunch. Next time? Maybe some wilted spinach and sunflower seeds? Who knows! Flavor, heat, nutrients--can't be beat! Bonus points for being able to grill a good steak, and of course knowing how to make ethnic foods, especially Indian and Thai, which can be pretty complex.

TheRanga's score: Low Pass, but getting higher.

Wow, I'm like half a man, according to myself. Coming next with TheWife's installment of her five things every man should be able to do.




Back at it!

Well, I'm finally home after a two-week travel stint: one week in India for work and then another in Georgia to see ParentsOfTheWife. All was good. Luckily, missed getting rained on in Bombay, as apparently the monsoon was a few days delayed. However, we got monsoons and more in Georgia, where it rained 4 of the 6 days we were there.

For now, it's back at the house, cleaning up the disaster zone that this place has become after nearly a month of neglect. Yesterday, I spent about three hours cleaning up the kitchen, washing pots and pans, and wiping down the counters. Today, I think I'll tackle the family room and bedroom. If I can convince TheWife to unpack any of her myriad suitcases from recent trips, I think we might actually make progress! Problem is, TheWife still hasn't unpacked all her shit since we moved here two years ago, so color me doubtful. And any iota of free time that her job lends her is spent going to outlet malls, visiting cousins, visiting friends, watching Criminal Minds, watching Cold Case, watching Law & Order: SVU, painting her toe nails, painting her finger nails, baking cupcakes, reading Wikipedia, curling her hair, straightening her hair, watching The Voice, watching Duets, etc etc etc. Somewhere, waaaaay down on the list, you will find "cleaning." But I've never seen her get that far down the list.

The one bright spot is that Bocephus and Anant took good care of the lawn while I was gone, so the house is looking quite nice on the outside. It's always nice to come home to grass that isn't knee-high, but is in fact freshly cut! Anyway, I'm weird, and these are apparently the things that I care about. Moving on.

I've been continuing the assault, and am quite hopeful and confident that I have settled into a nice, sustainable routine of eating healthy, working out regularly, and occasionally cheating. TheWife is continually pissed at me for not wanting to eat the fat-laden pastas she's always interested in, but I'm not budging, dammit! Sure, I'll let myself have a slice or two of pizza every now and then, but none of this every night nonsense. That's what got me to 203 in the first place! I've been pretty good about sticking to lean meats, vegetables, fruits and nuts and I think the results are showing.

Bocephus, Anant (to the extent that a vegetarian can), and I have all adopted a sort of "Paleo" diet recently. The basic tenets of the Paleo diet are that we should concentrate on eating naturally occurring foods that our Paleolithic ancestors ate for hundreds of thousands of years and evolved our bodies to digest most easily. Now, lest I sound crazy, I will assure you, basically, it just means cutting out a lot of the refined grains like breads, tortillas, pastas, etc., and also paring back on dairy products and just focusing on eating, as I said above, lean meats, veggies, fruits and nuts. Basically, just eating healthy. I'm trying to stick as closely to it as possible, but clearly there are weekends with friends, the occasional trip to a restaurant, etc., where the rules will have to be relaxed a bit. And that's fine by me.

The other side of the assaulting equation, exercise, has been going well too. Was able to get in five mini-crossfit workouts in my 7 days in India, and got in 6 while in Georgia. Back in CT since Sunday night, and I'm glad to say I worked out Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday. I'm starting to get much better definition around the arms, legs and shoulders and the weight is still slowly melting off. When I started the assault back in December, I weighed 192 and stated a goal of 180. I hit 180 fairly recently and reset the goal to 175-170. Today, I'm at 177. So I'm headed in the right direction!

Current weight: 177.0
Target weight: 170.0
Time frame: Open-ended. Let's call it 8 weeks.


Saturday, June 2, 2012

Jai Hind!

So, I'm back in India again for the next week, hosting some clients who are in town. Got in late last night and am spending a nice leisurely weekend fighting the jetlag, taking in Bombay and of course, sari shopping for TheWife. The journey over wasn't too bad--a 7-hour flight, a 2-hour layover, and an 8-hour flight were made MUCH easier by two upgrades to business elite. Instead of cramming myself into the sardine box that is coach, I got to actually lie down, with a real-life pillow (not one of those gauze-wrapped turds in coach) and an appropriately sized blanket. Needless to say, I was nice and fresh upon arriving in India.

The other upshot of business elite is, of course, the food. Whereas in coach, they're throwing some sweet potato burrito or crappy four-cheese pizza at me every three hours, up front, it's nicer than any meal I'd be ordering at a restaurant, and that's not a lie. I can't remember when I've ever ordered warm mixed nuts, tomato basil soup, mixed green salad with walnuts and cranberries, braised short ribs in a red wine reduction with parsnip puree and sauteed carrots, all topped off with a fruit and cheese plate for dessert. Maybe I'm getting too excited about airplane food, but I thought it was REALLY good. I should also remind you that my favorite restaurant of all time is Chili's. So do with my words what you will.

I had the distinct pleasure of sitting next to some old Indian guy on the flight from Amsterdam to Bombay. The guy spoke very little English but didn't let that stop him from talking to me the entire flight in some bastardized form of Hinglish. He may as well have had no dentures in, because I had no clue what the F he was saying the entire time. Even after I told him in no uncertain terms that I don't speak Hindi, he kept asking me questions in Hindi and waiting for my response. After struggling through conversation about where I am from and what I do and where I grew up, he then asked me this question: "Where you bore?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Where you bore? New York?"

"Was I born in New York?"

"Yes. New York. You bore New York?"

"Yes."

"Mumble mumble aap ka mere tum bin kabhi kabhi hindi hindi bore."

"I'm sorry?"

"Morning? Night? When you bore?"

Now, to all of my non-Indian readers, you should understand this: Indians have a weird thing with astrology and are generally interested in stupid shit like "What time of the day were you born?" or "What is the best time of the day to get married?" and so on. It is the reason all Indians request bio-data from other families when a boy and a girl have met (or are to meet) and is also the exact reason I had to wake up at 4:45am on my wedding day to get married in a private ceremony before the large festivities began. Certain times of certain days are auspicious for various reasons, and we'll leave it at that. So as an Indian speaking to another Indian, it wasn't ENTIRELY weird that this guy was asking what time I was born. Maybe he has a daughter or granddaughter that he thinks is worthy of my attention--who knows. Whatever, I kept indulging this inane, worthless conversation.

"I was born in 1982. April 14."

"New York bore?"

"Yes, in New York."

"What time?"

"I have no idea. Morning I guess, but I really don't know. Sorry."

"You no know bore time? You get on plane? What time you bore? Morning long time night bore apka hum."

Really not knowing what the hell the plane has to do with what time I was born, I use my go-to:

"I'm sorry?"

"Plane Plane! Bore! New York! Bore! Time!!!"

If you're smarter than I am, hats off to you, but I only figured it out at this point. This guy has been asking me what time my flight BOARDED in New York, and I told him April 14, 1982. He must have been as confused as I was. For all I know, this guy is blogging away in Pune right now about the idiot American he tried talking to on the flight last night. And that, friends, is a long way of saying I need to learn Hindi!