It was a glorious day at Camp Frisco…uh, Bounty Hunters. 56 PAX showed up ready to work. I realized however that Hi-Liter, Pet Sounds, and Red Ryder were probably alone at their sites. After a few rounds of Rock-Paper-Scissors (and two recounts demanded by Cool Beans–TYFYL) 33 PAX were shipped off to other AOs. There would be penalty burpees in store for them, but none of them had contributed to my HIM of the Year campaign PAC so they were quickly dismissed from my thoughts.
Circle Up.
It was time for the disclaimer. Five minutes later, I finished reading the official disclaimer from the F3 website. The day before at Tortortises Parker had brought legal council in an attempt to stave off (and I am reading this word for word) “problematic mumble chatter designed to disrupt the Q’s carefully planned workout. And also Frisco is a jerkface.” It turned out Malpractice was actually not a lawyer and had hand written the restraining order on the back of one of Sub’s Convergence flyers so it was non-binding. But I still went with the official disclaimer at BH to be on the safe side since Parker had brought real representation this time in the form of Joe Smith. I recognized him because he was nodding along with the very verbose, legalese-laden disclaimer. At a few of the more complex parts he pumped his first in the air and tried to get high-fives from surrounding PAX but his hip-thrusting and yelling “Yeah, baby! Get some!” put most of them off.
Disclaimer done we headed for the next Pearl. As we moseyed off I heard Parker whisper to Joe “I thought you were an attorney.” “I’m a patent attorney,” Joe whispered back. “If Frisco steals any of your exercises we can nail him.”
“Does he have to call them correctly?” Parker asked. When Joe nodded, Parker sighed and said “You probably can just go home then.”
But YHC was not to be deterred. We arrived at the parking lot and circled up for the warm up. One thing I have learned from the Black is the New Orange television show is that successful group interactions require the leader to isolate the strongest member of the pack and break them in front of everyone else. It sends a clear message and saves trouble in later episodes. We started with SSH and I bounced my way up to Triple Lindey and then bounced away once I realized that he is actually a really big guy. Oxtail seemed like a good option but I settled on 1-4 because, well, Oxtail is also a big guy.
“You got a problem, 1-4?” I yelled.
“I’m Shut In,” he said. I knew that wasn’t true because there were more than 3 words in his sentence.
A swift kick to the groin was needed so I aimed one at Deuce who–unlike 1-4–didn’t look like he was packing heat. But Deuce dropped like a sack of bricks that Smokey had tried to pick up before I could even wind up for a good solid kick.
“I didn’t even raise my foot yet,” I complained. I could hear Crimson snickering in the background and Imp mumbling “Stupid Rooney, stupid short straw…”.
“Modify as necessary, Frisco,” Deuce responded. I had been thwarted but I still gave 1-4 the evil eye as a warning to him and the rest of the PAX (I need that eye back by the way). I was dangerously close to losing control of the workout. I considered making an example of Old Maid, but the BSA frowns on two scout leaders getting into MMA style battles in public for some reason.
We did a few more warm up exercises that I…um…borrowed from Parker’s Tortoises Q yesterday. Overhead claps, seal claps, windmills, Knerkins (I injured my wrist…ah, somehow last week and those are the only type of merkins that don’t hurt) and so on. I saw that Nature Boy had somehow slipped into the non-Frexit group (my Sky Blue centered reference for the day) and was still at BH so I had him call Good Mornings. Shutty earned the PAX two burpees for his unrequested EC during the SSHs (“Wait, did he say two or ten?”)
It was time to get to Camp Frisco. In true Claymore style (and because my rival co-Site Q Pickles was there just waiting for me to screw up) I led the PAX on a 15 foot mosey to the end of the parking lot. I had stashed the Camp Frisco sign there so I flipped it around to let the PAX know that they weren’t at just any old workout. For the next 60 minutes Frisco would be their worst nightmare. I said as much since the whole kick thing didn’t work but I ignored Schlitz ask quietly how long the workout was supposed to be–time is an illusion at Camp Frisco!!
Thang 1: DORA with motivational Camp Frisco Mumble Chatter
- 100 Peter Parker Knerkins
- 200 jump squats
- 300 LBFC (Little Baby Flutter kick Crunches–thank you, execon)
At the mention of Peter Parker Merkins, Parker looked excitedly at Joe Smith who nodded until I demonstrated one for the rest of the PAX then Joe gave an emphatic shake of the head. “I’m still on the clock by the way,” he whispered.
I made sure each PAX had a partner by going around and asking “Hey, do you have a partner yet.” Oddly everyone did. Pairings were quick except for Pickles who kept running from team to team yelling “Partner in 3s, Frisco said ‘partner in 3s’! Who needs a partner?” Eventually Pickles gave up and partnered with YHC.
Knowing that Disco Duck tends to fartsack during DORAs (and 7s, and murphs, and 11s, and…) I had assembled the Camp Frisco motivational music–covers of popular songs by Bob Seger–to keep him and everyone else motivated. Grumble chatter about the lack of numbers for each exercise (TYFYL, Crimson) caused a quick pause in the music for a reset. It quickly became apparent however that the real reason was music selection. “Don’t you have any Captain and Tennille?” Crimson whined.
“Do I look like Ma Bell!” I roared as I turned the sounds of We Will Rock You back up to full volume
“No,” Sub said. “Ma Bell is much thinner and he doesn’t spit when he talks and he stopped wearing that toupee where as your–” I took off running before Badlands could start up his usual “Head Merkin” chant that he seems to love so much when my toupee is brought up. (It’s a ‘metro hair accessory’ by the way.)
Music back on I began doing what these PAX had paid to come to Camp Frisco for: unsolicited motivation.
“Remember the old Hand-In-The-Back routine, Sooey, you did on me when I was an FNG? How you like me now? Run faster, Sooey. Oh pipe it, that back surgery was like 6 weeks ago.”
“Blue-and-Out! Do I need to get you a walker? Do I need to carry you?! Run faster!! Hey, put down that stick.”
“Hotty! You want me to rip your beard off again!? It was not a good look for you. I want to see your nose touch the ground on those PPKs!”
“Shutty, look at my legs when I pull my shorts up really high. Don’t you want legs like this?! Squat, you bum!”
“Good work, Orphan. Great form.” (He knows where I live.)
“Smokey, you peaked two years ago. Maybe sit out a few rounds.” (He doesn’t know where I live.)
Thang 2: Frisco 7s
As we finished I noticed Traffic Cone driving off. I found out recently that he shouldn’t be leaving early since his son really graduated high school 8 years ago and is finishing up his doctorate in cartography with a specialization in uncharted territories. But Traffic Cone gets a bye because he apparently spends a lot of time shirtless working in his yard which motivates the neighborhood Ms keep sending their spouse out to F3 every morning (@Sooey, @Crimson, @Shut In–Shutty doesn’t live in that neighborhood but apparently there is a very active gray market in shirtless Traffic Cone pics out there.)
Oh yeah, Thang 2…
Under the critical gaze of Pickles I took the PAX 30 feet to the baseball field. YHC started with a quick run around the bases but realized most of our Respects probably hadn’t been past second base in a while so we stopped there and instead went to the chain link for some Frisco 7s.
- Find your Partner
- P1 balls to the wall (with Merkins added in for the overachievers like Sub)
- P2 runs to the invisible line between second base and the tall thing with lights on it and does 7 merkins
- Run back and swap. 7 merkins for P2 and then it descends to 6 and so on.
Note: The second base line was an intentional selection. The PAX needed to realize that once they had their Camp Frisco body 2nd base was just a quick (but apparently mandatory) stop on the way to home plate.
Finally we finished…because Nature Boy said “You’re finished in this town, Frisco. You’ll be VQ-ing on a garbage scow in Jersey by the time Disco Duck and I finish with you and Camp Frisco.” Saban usually just says “123.7 seconds to Mary” but to each his own.
Mary:
I put on the song 22 by Taylor Swift in honor of Red Ryder who was not able to get out of his Back In Black Q to come to BH. (It plays on a continuous loop in his car). Tay-Tay got the best of me and I threw in a few dance moves along the way from my short stint as a Vegas Show Boy (I needed the money). I heard Schlitz tossing out some merlot in the background but it had been a tough Camp Frisco workout so I knew he probably wasn’t the only one. (Sub did look a little green when we circled up for Mary.)
It was PAX choice for Mary. Parker performed his “real” Peter Parker merkins. I shot Joe Smith a questioning look (who had agreed to represent both sides) but he shook his head. Apparently, kicking both legs out to the side and giving a high pitched “wooo!” is just different enough to not infringe on my Camp Frisco patent.
COT:
Nam-o-rama: 4 Respects (who can get past second base now, you’re welcome), 20 Mehs
Announcements:
2nd F: Schlitz is out at Lowes Foods at High House and Cary Pkwy from 4-7 today. First beer is on him.
We have some flyers for the upcoming Convergence that can be posted at work for EH-ing. Check Slack for additional information.
Prayers / Praises:
I thanked the PAX for all of the continued support and prayers while helping my M deal with her mother’s death.
Apologies for missing any others. YHC took us out.
NMS:
I am known as a man of few words…
A year ago Sooey EH-ed me out to BH. I was overweight, starting to have trouble keeping up with my 2.0, and couldn’t climb 28 stairs without being winded. I kept asking myself “Is this what it’s going to be like? A slow, steady decline into an existence of tired, out-of-shape obsolescence?”
Yoda was my first Q. We did a DORA and it sucked. (You can ask Sooey, who was my partner, sometime what it’s like to do 93 merkins, 187 squats, and 264 LBCs). I called a Dora today–and still sucked–but I wanted to prove to myself again that I was far from that FNG that showed up at BH a year ago. And I wanted to remind myself that I am far from where I want to be.
I talked this morning in COT about how this year of F3 prepared me to support my M as she works through the grief from the death of her mother. How I center myself sometimes by mentally picturing a DM someone sent me to check in or a conversation I had with a partner during a workout. (Luckily, I was able to catch and rephrase the statement that started to come out: “I couldn’t do the things I do with my M without thinking of you guys first.”) A year ago, I would have tried to “fix” the M instead of just shutting up and being there for her do what she needs to do to grieve and heal.
Matador told me yesterday to expect a year or more for the M to come back to where she was and even then that she might not come back unchanged.
He said to me “This is why you got married.”
It was an odd statement. “Like in ‘sickness and in health’ type of thing?” I asked. “I take care of her when she’s weak so she will take care of me when I’m weak?”
“No,” he said. “You signed up to get the opportunity to be someone better than you were.”
Getting up and working hard at 1st F is a proxy. It is a way to remind yourself you aren’t getting stronger for you. You are getting stronger to take care of the people you love. And you don’t have to do it alone.
Thanks for letting me lead this morning, gentlemen. MIAGD!