Florida primaries are all but over here. I cast my vote for Ron Paul, along with what appears to be three to four percent of the rest of the republican voting population. Mccain looks to be running away with the republican votes. He may win the republican nomination; he may even win the presidency. But, he will have to do both without my vote. If Ron Paul doesn't make it to the ticket as an independent, it looks like I will have to write him in.
“Always vote for principle, though you may vote alone, and you may cherish the sweetest reflection that your vote is never lost.” - John Quincy Adams
“I find that the respectable man, so called, has immediately drifted from his position, and despairs of his country, when his country has more reason to despair of him. He forthwith adopts one of the candidates ... as the only available one, thus proving that he is himself available for any purposes of the demagogue. His vote is of no more worth than that of any unprincipled foreigner or hireling native, who may have been bought.” - Henry David Thoreau
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
Sunday, January 27, 2008
Judo
It is a good feeling to be completely physically spent. I just got back from my judo class and it was great. I don't think there is a single muscle that wasn't taxed during the session. I have been learning judo for nearly a year now and still enjoy it as much as the first day. It hasn't been an easy road, as anything to do with martial skills should not be. “Train like you fight and fight like you train” and all those other little pearls of wisdom. I am fortunate to have remained healthy and relatively uninjured. A chipped bone here, a broken toe there and a couple of dislocated ribs were the highest price I have had to pay for my mistakes in the dojo. They didn't stop me from continuing; they merely slowed me down (and forced a change in tactics) until they healed. And guess which lessons seem to be burned into my brain?
Sensei and I have become friends and he has turned out to be a great guy both on and off the mat. Part of our training is to visit other schools. Training for a day under a different judo instructor(s) gives you different perspectives on the same style as well as allows you to test your skills against other judoka that you are not used to training with. Today was one of those days. I met my sensai in front of the local rec center and we went up to class. Class began as I suppose most do with an introduction of the visitors and a bowing in. Class kicked off with a drill that was new to me; they affectionately called it “Cat Drills”. What an innocent name for medieval torture.
Cat drills start with a man in the middle of the mat who gets to sit on his butt. All other judoka line up along a wall and smile (optional). Why were they smiling? Well that would be because visitors have the honor of being among the first men in the middle and who do you suppose got to start off in the middle? You got it, “Tell'em what he wins, Bob!” Me.
One of the sensei picks out a participant to step forward, bow, and then try to make you a skid-mark on the mat. Ah friend, I can here you now, “Sounds like wraslen to me you big sissy.” You would be correct, with one major exception – most southern "wraslen" matches start with both opponents standing, or both in some position comprised of hands and knees; not so the Cat Drill. Remember I said the man in the middle gets to sit on his rosy red? His opponent starts the match standing. Matches are two minutes per opponent and go until either one of the gentleman chokes, arm-bars, or pins the other. Once one of the previously mentioned occurs or time runs out, the man in the middle stays and faces another without more than a ten to fifteen second breather. This continues until you either die, pass out, face every judoka in the dojo, or ask for a break. With even a basic grasp of the principles of leverage, momentum, stamina, and weight one should be able to figure which of the two judoka is at a serious disadvantage. When you are the sap in the middle, it forces you to change your strategy considerably – and as I understand it, the point of the exercise.
I had done something similar to this in a different martial art, but there were two minute breaks in between. Oh, and if you ever find yourself in just such a situation at the dojo, allow me you give you a little advice - don't bite; they'll figure it out from the teeth-marks. Just take my word for it. Yes ya yuppie, that was a joke. Where was I? Ah yes, breathing like a bull, muscles quivering like jello, I only just made it through them all without a break. After fair showing with the first two, I had my arse handed to me by the rest. The last three were of the instructor variety, but they were nice enough to make me work a bit before they painted the dojo with my forehead. If you have any doubts as to your level of physical fitness, try this drill and you will know exactly where you stand.
Once we were finished with Cat Drills, we moved on to standing randori. They asked for volunteers to have the first go. My sensai is a quick thinker because as I was catching my breath and mulling over the risk vs. reward ratio of just such a proposition he volunteered me. Well didn't that just make things much easier? No choice now but to step up, bow, and wait for “Hajime” (begin). I circled and fought for a hand grip, and in a flash went from thinking that I had my opponent out of balance and in a perfect position for a koshi guruma to wondering how my feet got so far above my head. It's times like these that you truly appreciate ukemi drills. Ukemi is a small group of techniques that teaches you to fall safely. No one said it was comfortable, but at least things are less likely to go snap-crackle-pop when you are hit with the earth. So where was I...ah yeah, flat on my back on the mat. Nothing to do but jump up and try again and then again. Randori is full force, neither holds back in his attempts to defeat his opponent. This is one of the reasons that I really enjoy judo. It's full contact and there is little danger that you will maim, seriously injure or kill your opponent inside the dojo. I can grab my opponent and attempt to throw him, choke him, joint lock him, and or control him with 100% effort. This translates well to “live fire” situations.
Now before anyone sends me a ridiculous mail telling me how judo sucks or how their martial art is the be all, end all, have a long drink from this tall can of shut-the-hell-up. Judo, like every other martial art, is a tool or set of tools. It is a tool that fits me and it is a tool that has many applications. It is not the only tool, nor does it fit everyone. There are techniques practiced on the sport side of judo that I believe would bring me serious harm were I to employ them in a life situation. Guess what? I don't practice those few techniques. But, I am not training to be a samurai warrior of the ninth circle; I have no visions of being a master judoku, surrounded in a dank alley by twenty assailants, gleefully disarming gang members left and right and cracking arms and legs, heads and necks with my all powerful judo throws and deadly atemi techniques. But I would be the guy to stay the hell out of that alley. I would be the guy to attempt to maintain an awareness of my surroundings. Because, you silly one, avoidance-fu is the best art to master; for nearly everyone else, the rest is insurance.
A great day at the dojo. I learned a lot and I look forward to the next.
Sensei and I have become friends and he has turned out to be a great guy both on and off the mat. Part of our training is to visit other schools. Training for a day under a different judo instructor(s) gives you different perspectives on the same style as well as allows you to test your skills against other judoka that you are not used to training with. Today was one of those days. I met my sensai in front of the local rec center and we went up to class. Class began as I suppose most do with an introduction of the visitors and a bowing in. Class kicked off with a drill that was new to me; they affectionately called it “Cat Drills”. What an innocent name for medieval torture.
Cat drills start with a man in the middle of the mat who gets to sit on his butt. All other judoka line up along a wall and smile (optional). Why were they smiling? Well that would be because visitors have the honor of being among the first men in the middle and who do you suppose got to start off in the middle? You got it, “Tell'em what he wins, Bob!” Me.
One of the sensei picks out a participant to step forward, bow, and then try to make you a skid-mark on the mat. Ah friend, I can here you now, “Sounds like wraslen to me you big sissy.” You would be correct, with one major exception – most southern "wraslen" matches start with both opponents standing, or both in some position comprised of hands and knees; not so the Cat Drill. Remember I said the man in the middle gets to sit on his rosy red? His opponent starts the match standing. Matches are two minutes per opponent and go until either one of the gentleman chokes, arm-bars, or pins the other. Once one of the previously mentioned occurs or time runs out, the man in the middle stays and faces another without more than a ten to fifteen second breather. This continues until you either die, pass out, face every judoka in the dojo, or ask for a break. With even a basic grasp of the principles of leverage, momentum, stamina, and weight one should be able to figure which of the two judoka is at a serious disadvantage. When you are the sap in the middle, it forces you to change your strategy considerably – and as I understand it, the point of the exercise.
I had done something similar to this in a different martial art, but there were two minute breaks in between. Oh, and if you ever find yourself in just such a situation at the dojo, allow me you give you a little advice - don't bite; they'll figure it out from the teeth-marks. Just take my word for it. Yes ya yuppie, that was a joke. Where was I? Ah yes, breathing like a bull, muscles quivering like jello, I only just made it through them all without a break. After fair showing with the first two, I had my arse handed to me by the rest. The last three were of the instructor variety, but they were nice enough to make me work a bit before they painted the dojo with my forehead. If you have any doubts as to your level of physical fitness, try this drill and you will know exactly where you stand.
Once we were finished with Cat Drills, we moved on to standing randori. They asked for volunteers to have the first go. My sensai is a quick thinker because as I was catching my breath and mulling over the risk vs. reward ratio of just such a proposition he volunteered me. Well didn't that just make things much easier? No choice now but to step up, bow, and wait for “Hajime” (begin). I circled and fought for a hand grip, and in a flash went from thinking that I had my opponent out of balance and in a perfect position for a koshi guruma to wondering how my feet got so far above my head. It's times like these that you truly appreciate ukemi drills. Ukemi is a small group of techniques that teaches you to fall safely. No one said it was comfortable, but at least things are less likely to go snap-crackle-pop when you are hit with the earth. So where was I...ah yeah, flat on my back on the mat. Nothing to do but jump up and try again and then again. Randori is full force, neither holds back in his attempts to defeat his opponent. This is one of the reasons that I really enjoy judo. It's full contact and there is little danger that you will maim, seriously injure or kill your opponent inside the dojo. I can grab my opponent and attempt to throw him, choke him, joint lock him, and or control him with 100% effort. This translates well to “live fire” situations.
Now before anyone sends me a ridiculous mail telling me how judo sucks or how their martial art is the be all, end all, have a long drink from this tall can of shut-the-hell-up. Judo, like every other martial art, is a tool or set of tools. It is a tool that fits me and it is a tool that has many applications. It is not the only tool, nor does it fit everyone. There are techniques practiced on the sport side of judo that I believe would bring me serious harm were I to employ them in a life situation. Guess what? I don't practice those few techniques. But, I am not training to be a samurai warrior of the ninth circle; I have no visions of being a master judoku, surrounded in a dank alley by twenty assailants, gleefully disarming gang members left and right and cracking arms and legs, heads and necks with my all powerful judo throws and deadly atemi techniques. But I would be the guy to stay the hell out of that alley. I would be the guy to attempt to maintain an awareness of my surroundings. Because, you silly one, avoidance-fu is the best art to master; for nearly everyone else, the rest is insurance.
A great day at the dojo. I learned a lot and I look forward to the next.
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
Wayfaring Stranger
Like many a savage beast across this blue planet, I greatly enjoy music. There is no genre that I listen to exclusively. I simply like good music and no, rap does not qualify as music in my estimation.
There is music and there is music. There are the tunes that fill the ear as a modest fare sates the stomach at meal times, filling and satisfying. Then there are melodies that do more than cause a foot or hand to tap out rhythm; there are songs that dance chills along the spine and force the hairs across the neck to stand straight as if touched by a chill wind. There are songs that reach out an ethereal hand and reach right into your chest and stop you in your tracks. They are a rarity, but such a song found me today and I wanted to share.
I was listening to pandora.com (and again a thank you to Dave for pointing out this site) while clacking away dutifully on work that pays the bills. General Taylor, by Great Big Sea had just finished and it was followed by a haunting voice that seemed to fill the air and from the first phrase I was pole-axed. I have actually heard the words before as it is an old hymn, but never have I heard it like this. The group is called Anonymous 4 and the song Wayfaring Stranger. I tried to play it again from Pandora but alas, I could not go back to repeat it. I jumped over to Amazon.com and downloaded the MP3 for .99 and it has been on repeat for the last 20 minutes. I'll not say anymore about it as I would like to hear what you think of the tune if you are so inclined to take a listen. You won't be disappointed.
There is music and there is music. There are the tunes that fill the ear as a modest fare sates the stomach at meal times, filling and satisfying. Then there are melodies that do more than cause a foot or hand to tap out rhythm; there are songs that dance chills along the spine and force the hairs across the neck to stand straight as if touched by a chill wind. There are songs that reach out an ethereal hand and reach right into your chest and stop you in your tracks. They are a rarity, but such a song found me today and I wanted to share.
I was listening to pandora.com (and again a thank you to Dave for pointing out this site) while clacking away dutifully on work that pays the bills. General Taylor, by Great Big Sea had just finished and it was followed by a haunting voice that seemed to fill the air and from the first phrase I was pole-axed. I have actually heard the words before as it is an old hymn, but never have I heard it like this. The group is called Anonymous 4 and the song Wayfaring Stranger. I tried to play it again from Pandora but alas, I could not go back to repeat it. I jumped over to Amazon.com and downloaded the MP3 for .99 and it has been on repeat for the last 20 minutes. I'll not say anymore about it as I would like to hear what you think of the tune if you are so inclined to take a listen. You won't be disappointed.
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