The KA Curse Continues

Yeah. So...

Remember the scene from "Tommy Boy" where Spade and Farley are sitting on the park bench in Chicago? They'd already lost Callahan Auto, Big Tom had recently passed away, Tommy lost his girlfriend, and they couldn't sell 500,000 brake pads.

And there they were on the bench, already beaten down by the world...

Then the bench broke under Tommy's weight.

"Coulda done without that," said Tommy.

Well, last night, I had two park benches break on me.

1. We turned our stereo receiver on for the first time in a good month so we could listen to Blake from American Idol (sue me, I like the show) rock "You Give Love a Bad Name" on the big daddy speakers. Well, about 15 seconds in, it died. For no reason, and out of nowhere. It's our only stereo, and we don't have the petty cash at hand to go replace it.

"Coulda done without that."

2. Beck and I were sparring last night, having a good time, and starting to work up a sweat. Then I hit the punch mit with a right hook. Then the pain shot from my knuckles up to my elbow. I tried to keep going, but it hurt a little too badly, and I didn't want to risk seriously hurting anything. So, I got about 10 minutes of exercise in last night, then was forced to stop.

"Coulda done without that."

In the scheme of things, these aren't major issues. But when they serve as "icing on the cake", it just adds the cliche' "insult to injury."

Whatever.

On to more interesting topics.

I want to share with you all who I was when I was in shape, and who I'm trying to be again.

Simply put, as recently as five years ago (closer to six), I was a bad man. Not Michael Jackson "bad", but more Muhammad Ali "bad".

I was working out 3-4 days a week, doing anything from running, to weights, to basketball. I could bench 225 eight times. I could dunk the basketball. I was once unofficially timed with a 40 time of 4.78. I used to chase men with crowbars through parking lots because they stole sudafed from my store. I used to wrestle guys to the ground, put my knee on their neck, and place them in cuffs for trying to steal a printer. I've had knives pulled on me. I've had my life threatened. I've been in a good 8-10 knock-down, drag-out fights - for money.

I was 6' 8", 245. My head was Mach 3'd. My goatee was neatly trimmed. I wore dark sunglasses over my contacts.

I was a bad man.

People feared me. And if they didn't fear me, they respected me.

Being fat has turned me into this teddy bear type of guy, and that's the identity I've had to embrace. Unlike what you guys were talking about yesterday, I, nor anybody I've ever known, has seen "fat" as "intimidating." I was called "a wall" as recently as last summer. I was told I would scare the hell out of anybody I'd apprehend at the doors. OTHERS saw my 6' 8", 360-pound frame as intimidating, but I never saw myself as anything but "fat."

Most of you know me as the fat, teddy bear Kevin. The guy who comes on here and whines about life, and quotes Rocky movies. You see me as the guy who shares his feelings with the 112 visitors that come to this page each day.

And I guess I am that person, but not by choice.

Underneath all of this, the real Kevin is waiting to come back out. He's the one who wants to box three rounds with a trainer in a few months. He's the one who still has an occasional craving to be a cop. He's the one who glares at the guy in the store for cutting him off with the cart, hoping he mouths off and tries to start something.

I'm a bad man. Somewhere in there.

I'm not sure why it's so important to me that I tell you all of this. It's just something I wanted to get out there. I guess part of me feels like you're getting to know a "me" that isn't really "me." What you see here is a part of my real identity, but it's not who I am. It's not what defines me. On here, I'm just a guy trying to lose weight. You guys only see that part of me. I guess I'm kind of ashamed that fat Kevin is the only Kevin you know. Well, there's more to me than the whiny, fat, "poor me - life is so hard" Kevin.

The REAL Kevin? He's a bad man.