My dojo, Sun Dragon Martial Arts and Self Defense, is running its major yearly fundraiser. We're a nonprofit martial arts studio, which is something of a rare beast, and we raise money every year for our scholarship fund and the free self-defense classes we offer in the community. For my part, every day until the day of the Kickathon, I will write a random amusing anecdote about karate and self-defense - enjoy!
The other obvious 80s influence in my interest in martial arts (and my interest in silly headgear) is The Karate Kid. This one had some unfortunate side effects.
My regular after-school babysitter, Heather, was my favorite, largely because she put up with nearly all of my more rambunctious ideas. Every so often, if I hadn't exhausted her yet, we'd go into the living room and move everything breakable away, and we'd... well, I'd say we sparred if I had known what I was doing - and if she was doing anything other than humoring me. Sometimes she'd teach me a little tumbling, but mostly I tried to hit her and she tried not to wince when I did.
Anyway, after seeing The Karate Kid I was inspired. I asked Heather if I could try out the crane kick that looked so cool when performed on a pole on the beach at sunrise. She said, sure, go ahead. So I hoisted one knee up, got my balance, jumped, and kicked my poor babysitter right square in the crotch. She dropped like a rock.
I've never gotten kicked solidly in the groin like that, but if Heather's whimpers were anything to go by, it hurts quite a bit, even for women. She stayed in the fetal position for a good three or four minutes, and when she finally uncurled, I knew playtime was over. But I also knew something more important - the movie was right! That move WORKED.
It's always amused me that when setting a pick in basketball, women stand with their arms crossed over their chest, and men cross their hands over their crotch. Priorities, I guess. Won't you please donate $5 to our fundraiser? I won't threaten to kick you in the crotch if you don't, but you know, I could...
Sunday, October 18, 2009
Saturday, October 17, 2009
My Life and Karate, Day Eleven
My dojo, Sun Dragon Martial Arts and Self Defense, is running its major yearly fundraiser. We're a nonprofit martial arts studio, which is something of a rare beast, and we raise money every year for our scholarship fund and the free self-defense classes we offer in the community. For my part, every day until the day of the Kickathon, I will write a random amusing anecdote about karate and self-defense - enjoy!
My interest in the martial arts probably started with the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Yeah, I'm a child of the eighties. I honestly can't remember where I came across them, but when I did, I was instantly hooked. And not really to the TV show, either - no, I got all the action figures and made up wild adventures for them, and admired their little plastic weapons, and wanted a full-size set of my own. And then there were the Thundercats, who were also pretty awesome and kicked bad-guy ass in a variety of ways. Maybe I'm lucky to have developed a taste for martial arts and not for furries, eh?
Then there were the video games. I had one, an off-brand fighting game with no fireballs or crazy hairstyles, just guys in black belts kicking and punching, that I played for hours. It wasn't even a very fun game - if you held the down arrow and hit 'B' as fast as you could, you'd win most fights because the AI just wasn't very smart. But it was karate, and therefore it was awesome. (Not as awesome as Tetris - I wasn't dumb, after all - but awesome.) And when Nintendo Power sent the issue with the extended Ninja Gaiden walkthrough, with the little asides about the history of nijitsu, I ate it up. I clearly remember lying in front of the TV reading about caltrops while Father Dowling solved some mystery with his wisecracking nun sidekick. Yeah, child of the 80s for sure.
I wanted to take martial arts lessons, even then. The Park District offered them - it wasn't far, and it wasn't expensive. My parents didn't exactly disapprove... but they didn't encourage it, either. There was baseball, after all. And soccer. And Hebrew school. None of this prevented me from dressing up like a ninja three years running for Halloween, but it definitely made it easy to push back actually taking classes. By the time I got to high school, I was so thoroughly scheduled with after-school sports that there wasn't any room anyway.
Even so, when my cousin, who was always cooler than I was, got to take Tae Kwon Do, I was crazy jealous. I believe he made it to brown belt - maybe to black. I remember him showing me how he tied his belt, one trip up to see the extended family. You had to wrap it carefully and tie it just so. I was terribly impressed.
This wasn't really going anywhere in particular - it's Saturday night, and I've had some wine. But I'd love to hear from other martial artists - what got you into it? Was it TMNT as well? Or did you have, like, a respectable influence?
I am still sort of disappointed that I don't have an excuse to wear a headband with eyeholes in it to class. Maybe I can make that a bonus - if y'all donate $1000 total to our fundraiser, I'll make myself a ninja turtle headband and post the pics online. What do you say?
My interest in the martial arts probably started with the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Yeah, I'm a child of the eighties. I honestly can't remember where I came across them, but when I did, I was instantly hooked. And not really to the TV show, either - no, I got all the action figures and made up wild adventures for them, and admired their little plastic weapons, and wanted a full-size set of my own. And then there were the Thundercats, who were also pretty awesome and kicked bad-guy ass in a variety of ways. Maybe I'm lucky to have developed a taste for martial arts and not for furries, eh?
Then there were the video games. I had one, an off-brand fighting game with no fireballs or crazy hairstyles, just guys in black belts kicking and punching, that I played for hours. It wasn't even a very fun game - if you held the down arrow and hit 'B' as fast as you could, you'd win most fights because the AI just wasn't very smart. But it was karate, and therefore it was awesome. (Not as awesome as Tetris - I wasn't dumb, after all - but awesome.) And when Nintendo Power sent the issue with the extended Ninja Gaiden walkthrough, with the little asides about the history of nijitsu, I ate it up. I clearly remember lying in front of the TV reading about caltrops while Father Dowling solved some mystery with his wisecracking nun sidekick. Yeah, child of the 80s for sure.
I wanted to take martial arts lessons, even then. The Park District offered them - it wasn't far, and it wasn't expensive. My parents didn't exactly disapprove... but they didn't encourage it, either. There was baseball, after all. And soccer. And Hebrew school. None of this prevented me from dressing up like a ninja three years running for Halloween, but it definitely made it easy to push back actually taking classes. By the time I got to high school, I was so thoroughly scheduled with after-school sports that there wasn't any room anyway.
Even so, when my cousin, who was always cooler than I was, got to take Tae Kwon Do, I was crazy jealous. I believe he made it to brown belt - maybe to black. I remember him showing me how he tied his belt, one trip up to see the extended family. You had to wrap it carefully and tie it just so. I was terribly impressed.
This wasn't really going anywhere in particular - it's Saturday night, and I've had some wine. But I'd love to hear from other martial artists - what got you into it? Was it TMNT as well? Or did you have, like, a respectable influence?
I am still sort of disappointed that I don't have an excuse to wear a headband with eyeholes in it to class. Maybe I can make that a bonus - if y'all donate $1000 total to our fundraiser, I'll make myself a ninja turtle headband and post the pics online. What do you say?
Friday, October 16, 2009
My Life and Karate, Day Ten
My dojo, Sun Dragon Martial Arts and Self Defense, is running its major yearly fundraiser. We're a nonprofit martial arts studio, which is something of a rare beast, and we raise money every year for our scholarship fund and the free self-defense classes we offer in the community. For my part, every day until the day of the Kickathon, I will write a random amusing anecdote about karate and self-defense - enjoy!
I was 19 and had just moved to Austin, and things looked rosy until the dot-com bubble popped. Then the little startup I was working for started to have some funding issues, and I started to get nervous, so I bailed. I didn't have a new job lined up, but hey, I was 19 and invincible.
I found an ad in the paper offering a job for $60k a year after the training period. Sounded too good to be true, but I sent them my resume, got an interview, and went downtown to the fancy office building to meet with the recruiter. It was a real office, with a real recruiter. But the catch was the training wasn't free - it cost $2500 or so for a four-week certification class, money I definitely didn't have. But I talked it over with my mom, and the contract they offered looked pretty solid - offer of employment contingent upon finishing the class - and Mom offered to pay for it.
The company was called Linuxgruven, and they were taking everyone for a ride. They didn't have income beyond what prospective employees would pay for the class, and after a week of class, the owners took off for a tropical island with everyone's money (and paychecks) and there was no more class for me. I had the basic one-week cert (a little card that proclaimed that I could install Linux without setting anything on fire) and nothing else - no job, no prospects, and no way to pay my long-suffering mother back except to forward her the letter from the MO Attorney General who wanted to sue the pants off those people.
I don't bitch much about this one because eventually I got a good job at Dell and I sure whipped out that overpriced certification when I interviewed. But it was definitely a learning experience. In writing circles there's a concept called Yog's Law - money flows towards the writer. If it doesn't (if an agent or a publisher is charging up-front fees) there's a good chance the outfit you're talking to is a scam. In this case, the money wasn't flowing towards the employee, and guess what, it was a scam! (Just requiring a certification isn't a sign of a scam, of course, but I'd be very leery of the ones that want you to pay them to certify you first.)
There are a lot of people out there who would like to take your money without giving you much or anything back in return. Keeping a firm eye on where the money is actually flowing, vs. where you were promised it would flow, is a good rule of thumb. And practicing saying "No," asking questions, and being comfortable walking away are all critical skills to have when things start to look iffy. I lost some of Mom's money on this deal, but much worse things can happen if you aren't keeping an eye on your own well-being.
Ten days in, and I'm wandering pretty far afield of my topics. This is going to get interesting! But I'll keep getting weirder until all of you have donated $5 to our fundraiser!
I was 19 and had just moved to Austin, and things looked rosy until the dot-com bubble popped. Then the little startup I was working for started to have some funding issues, and I started to get nervous, so I bailed. I didn't have a new job lined up, but hey, I was 19 and invincible.
I found an ad in the paper offering a job for $60k a year after the training period. Sounded too good to be true, but I sent them my resume, got an interview, and went downtown to the fancy office building to meet with the recruiter. It was a real office, with a real recruiter. But the catch was the training wasn't free - it cost $2500 or so for a four-week certification class, money I definitely didn't have. But I talked it over with my mom, and the contract they offered looked pretty solid - offer of employment contingent upon finishing the class - and Mom offered to pay for it.
The company was called Linuxgruven, and they were taking everyone for a ride. They didn't have income beyond what prospective employees would pay for the class, and after a week of class, the owners took off for a tropical island with everyone's money (and paychecks) and there was no more class for me. I had the basic one-week cert (a little card that proclaimed that I could install Linux without setting anything on fire) and nothing else - no job, no prospects, and no way to pay my long-suffering mother back except to forward her the letter from the MO Attorney General who wanted to sue the pants off those people.
I don't bitch much about this one because eventually I got a good job at Dell and I sure whipped out that overpriced certification when I interviewed. But it was definitely a learning experience. In writing circles there's a concept called Yog's Law - money flows towards the writer. If it doesn't (if an agent or a publisher is charging up-front fees) there's a good chance the outfit you're talking to is a scam. In this case, the money wasn't flowing towards the employee, and guess what, it was a scam! (Just requiring a certification isn't a sign of a scam, of course, but I'd be very leery of the ones that want you to pay them to certify you first.)
There are a lot of people out there who would like to take your money without giving you much or anything back in return. Keeping a firm eye on where the money is actually flowing, vs. where you were promised it would flow, is a good rule of thumb. And practicing saying "No," asking questions, and being comfortable walking away are all critical skills to have when things start to look iffy. I lost some of Mom's money on this deal, but much worse things can happen if you aren't keeping an eye on your own well-being.
Ten days in, and I'm wandering pretty far afield of my topics. This is going to get interesting! But I'll keep getting weirder until all of you have donated $5 to our fundraiser!
Thursday, October 15, 2009
My Life and Karate, Day Nine
My dojo, Sun Dragon Martial Arts and Self Defense, is running its major yearly fundraiser. We're a nonprofit martial arts studio, which is something of a rare beast, and we raise money every year for our scholarship fund and the free self-defense classes we offer in the community. For my part, every day until the day of the Kickathon, I will write a random amusing anecdote about karate and self-defense - enjoy!
One of the most difficult exercises in the last self-defense class I took at Sun Dragon was one I really didn't expect would be hard. It was a very simple exercise: pair up, and take turns asking each other things. Questions, requests, whatever. The other person says "No." That's it.
Sounds really easy, doesn't it? And indeed, the first several questions weren't difficult at all - the hard part was coming up with things to ask. We were just supposed to say "no" without apologizing, explaining, smiling, or any of the other culturally-ingrained behaviors that people - and especially women - are so prone to do. But then I got thrown for a loop. My partner asked, "Do these glasses look good on me?"
And wow, I couldn't do it. I don't consider myself a habitual flatterer, or even a particularly nice person. I very seldom notice other people's appearance, and only rarely does it occur to me to comment on it. But I still hit all of the ingrained making-nice behaviors before I managed to get out a "no" - blushed, dropped my eyes, smiled weakly. It was startling.
Not that I was reluctant to be overtly rude, really. That's one situation where I have no problem with a little white lie, if necessary. No, what was startling was how fast my reaction was, and how hard it was to control even when I was consciously watching for it and trying to stifle it. I know exactly what I would have done if not under specific instructions - smiled and said "yeah, they look great!"
That particular instinctive reaction would probably have been the appropriate one, most of the time. But what happens when I have that reaction to a less-harmless question? It was a great exercise, because now I can sort of tell, if I'm paying attention, to what that embarrassed smile feels like, and when I drop my eyes, and what that means - and maybe I will be able to tell when I should be looking someone dead in the eye and saying "No!" instead.
It's actually sort of refreshing to stand around for a few minutes saying "No!" to everything like a petulant toddler. Help us bring this perverse pleasure to more people - and particularly women - by donating $5 to our fundraiser!
One of the most difficult exercises in the last self-defense class I took at Sun Dragon was one I really didn't expect would be hard. It was a very simple exercise: pair up, and take turns asking each other things. Questions, requests, whatever. The other person says "No." That's it.
Sounds really easy, doesn't it? And indeed, the first several questions weren't difficult at all - the hard part was coming up with things to ask. We were just supposed to say "no" without apologizing, explaining, smiling, or any of the other culturally-ingrained behaviors that people - and especially women - are so prone to do. But then I got thrown for a loop. My partner asked, "Do these glasses look good on me?"
And wow, I couldn't do it. I don't consider myself a habitual flatterer, or even a particularly nice person. I very seldom notice other people's appearance, and only rarely does it occur to me to comment on it. But I still hit all of the ingrained making-nice behaviors before I managed to get out a "no" - blushed, dropped my eyes, smiled weakly. It was startling.
Not that I was reluctant to be overtly rude, really. That's one situation where I have no problem with a little white lie, if necessary. No, what was startling was how fast my reaction was, and how hard it was to control even when I was consciously watching for it and trying to stifle it. I know exactly what I would have done if not under specific instructions - smiled and said "yeah, they look great!"
That particular instinctive reaction would probably have been the appropriate one, most of the time. But what happens when I have that reaction to a less-harmless question? It was a great exercise, because now I can sort of tell, if I'm paying attention, to what that embarrassed smile feels like, and when I drop my eyes, and what that means - and maybe I will be able to tell when I should be looking someone dead in the eye and saying "No!" instead.
It's actually sort of refreshing to stand around for a few minutes saying "No!" to everything like a petulant toddler. Help us bring this perverse pleasure to more people - and particularly women - by donating $5 to our fundraiser!
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
My Life and Karate, Day Eight
My dojo, Sun Dragon Martial Arts and Self Defense, is running its major yearly fundraiser. We're a nonprofit martial arts studio, which is something of a rare beast, and we raise money every year for our scholarship fund and the free self-defense classes we offer in the community. For my part, every day until the day of the Kickathon, I will write a random amusing anecdote about karate and self-defense - enjoy!
I've been sick the last couple of days, so today I just want to do a little status update. We're a third of the way to our overall fundraising goal, but we have only three weeks left. We've still got a ways to go. If you've been reading and enjoying these posts, I'd like you to please consider pitching in - I'm only asking for $5.
My own goal is fairly arbitrary - I'm perfectly happy if you choose to donate to someone other than me. And as a matter of fact, if my dojo-mates want to link these posts to their friends with their own donation pages attached, that's fine by me!
Thanks for reading, and hopefully by tomorrow I'll be coherent enough to write something interesting.
Self-defense training isn't just about learning how to punch people in the head. It's about learning how to recognize bad situations, avoid them if possible, and get out of them in the minimum number of pieces if not. Help us provide this training to more people - and particularly women - by donating $5 to our fundraiser!
I've been sick the last couple of days, so today I just want to do a little status update. We're a third of the way to our overall fundraising goal, but we have only three weeks left. We've still got a ways to go. If you've been reading and enjoying these posts, I'd like you to please consider pitching in - I'm only asking for $5.
My own goal is fairly arbitrary - I'm perfectly happy if you choose to donate to someone other than me. And as a matter of fact, if my dojo-mates want to link these posts to their friends with their own donation pages attached, that's fine by me!
Thanks for reading, and hopefully by tomorrow I'll be coherent enough to write something interesting.
Self-defense training isn't just about learning how to punch people in the head. It's about learning how to recognize bad situations, avoid them if possible, and get out of them in the minimum number of pieces if not. Help us provide this training to more people - and particularly women - by donating $5 to our fundraiser!
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
My Life and Karate, Day Seven
My dojo, Sun Dragon Martial Arts and Self Defense, is running its major yearly fundraiser. We're a nonprofit martial arts studio, which is something of a rare beast, and we raise money every year for our scholarship fund and the free self-defense classes we offer in the community. For my part, every day until the day of the Kickathon, I will write a random amusing anecdote about karate and self-defense - enjoy!
Several years ago, I decided to try the whole internet dating thing. This was in the Spring Street Network era, before eHarmony and OKCupid. I was looking for fun, maybe a little play, but definitely not a serious relationship. This led me to some... interesting people. And some good lessons in self-defense.
I can't remember if this woman was the first or second real-life date. She was, if I remember correctly, about 35 (I was 22,) a massage therapist, and interested in astrology. We exchanged a couple of emails, which went tolerably well, spoke on the phone for a few minutes, which didn't go horribly, and made a date to meet at a coffee shop. I gave her my birthday so she could do my horoscope, which sounded like a good pretext to talk.
I wasn't entirely thrilled by her, but I wasn't entirely repulsed, either. The horoscope was moderately interesting, and she was not unattractive, except she had a habit of smacking her lips every minute or so. I found that so thoroughly distracting that when we got to talking about massage, and she offered to give me a free one at her office - just a few streets away - I said yes.
We took separate cars - I wasn't that dumb, even then. I didn't find her physically threatening, but as I drove to her office my instincts were growing increasingly unhappy with the plan. I decided to go ahead, though - because I said I'd do it, and dammit, I'd do it.
Let me perhaps spoil the tension of the narrative by saying now that it really was her office, and that she really did give me a massage. Not a spectacular massage - she seemed a little distracted - but she made the effort. When she finished with my back and I rolled over, she kissed me. I remember the train of thought very clearly.
"Um. This isn't all that fun. It's not really her fault, though, and I did say I wanted some play. No, you know what? This isn't fun. I'm done here."
I disengaged, said something vague about not really being over my last relationship after all, and bailed. She was obviously disappointed, but didn't press the issue.
Which, you know, was nice. Because I had put myself in a really crappy position, in terms of safety. I was on her turf, in an office building after 9pm with no one around, and if things had gotten ugly I wouldn't have had very many options.
So there were a couple of learning experiences here - number one, if your gut says bail, bail and don't worry about manners - or pride. That's the one I did wrong. Number two, if you're not having fun, get out, move on, and don't worry about the other person. That's the one I did right. I am still glad I didn't let that scene go any further, and I'm sure she got over the disappointment almost immediately.
So yeah, this one probably wasn't very amusing, but these are topics that aren't always funny.
Self-defense training isn't just about learning how to punch people in the head. It's about learning how to recognize bad situations, avoid them if possible, and get out of them in the minimum number of pieces if not. Help us provide this training to more people - and particularly women - by donating $5 to our fundraiser!
Several years ago, I decided to try the whole internet dating thing. This was in the Spring Street Network era, before eHarmony and OKCupid. I was looking for fun, maybe a little play, but definitely not a serious relationship. This led me to some... interesting people. And some good lessons in self-defense.
I can't remember if this woman was the first or second real-life date. She was, if I remember correctly, about 35 (I was 22,) a massage therapist, and interested in astrology. We exchanged a couple of emails, which went tolerably well, spoke on the phone for a few minutes, which didn't go horribly, and made a date to meet at a coffee shop. I gave her my birthday so she could do my horoscope, which sounded like a good pretext to talk.
I wasn't entirely thrilled by her, but I wasn't entirely repulsed, either. The horoscope was moderately interesting, and she was not unattractive, except she had a habit of smacking her lips every minute or so. I found that so thoroughly distracting that when we got to talking about massage, and she offered to give me a free one at her office - just a few streets away - I said yes.
We took separate cars - I wasn't that dumb, even then. I didn't find her physically threatening, but as I drove to her office my instincts were growing increasingly unhappy with the plan. I decided to go ahead, though - because I said I'd do it, and dammit, I'd do it.
Let me perhaps spoil the tension of the narrative by saying now that it really was her office, and that she really did give me a massage. Not a spectacular massage - she seemed a little distracted - but she made the effort. When she finished with my back and I rolled over, she kissed me. I remember the train of thought very clearly.
"Um. This isn't all that fun. It's not really her fault, though, and I did say I wanted some play. No, you know what? This isn't fun. I'm done here."
I disengaged, said something vague about not really being over my last relationship after all, and bailed. She was obviously disappointed, but didn't press the issue.
Which, you know, was nice. Because I had put myself in a really crappy position, in terms of safety. I was on her turf, in an office building after 9pm with no one around, and if things had gotten ugly I wouldn't have had very many options.
So there were a couple of learning experiences here - number one, if your gut says bail, bail and don't worry about manners - or pride. That's the one I did wrong. Number two, if you're not having fun, get out, move on, and don't worry about the other person. That's the one I did right. I am still glad I didn't let that scene go any further, and I'm sure she got over the disappointment almost immediately.
So yeah, this one probably wasn't very amusing, but these are topics that aren't always funny.
Self-defense training isn't just about learning how to punch people in the head. It's about learning how to recognize bad situations, avoid them if possible, and get out of them in the minimum number of pieces if not. Help us provide this training to more people - and particularly women - by donating $5 to our fundraiser!
Monday, October 12, 2009
My Life and Karate, Day Six
My dojo, Sun Dragon Martial Arts and Self Defense, is running its major yearly fundraiser. We're a nonprofit martial arts studio, which is something of a rare beast, and we raise money every year for our scholarship fund and the free self-defense classes we offer in the community. For my part, every day until the day of the Kickathon, I will write a random amusing anecdote about karate and self-defense - enjoy!
One of the things about studying martial arts at a not-for-profit school is that sometimes it bears more of a resemblance to Mr. Miyagi's backyard than it does a slick strip-mall storefront - even when we're in a strip mall.
I started training last summer at the old dojo on Riverside, where Sun Dragon had been for ages. It was a little tin-walled shack next to the Thundercloud, with extremely sketchy carpeting but a very authentic atmosphere. The less-charming thing about it was that it had no air conditioning, and by late June I was as happy as any of the ten-year vets to hear we were moving to a climate-controlled storefront on Westgate.
The thing was, the new spot needed some work. It needed changing rooms, an office, and a floor suitable to jump around and fall down on. And Sun Dragon is a non-profit - there's not a deep pool of money to pay for that sort of stuff out of. So our head instructor's partner, who's a contractor, agreed for the sake of domestic tranquility to handle the tough parts, and for the day labor - well, we'd all seen the movie. Wax on, wax off, and all that.
I hadn't painted in years, but working a roller isn't that hard. The really fun stuff was all new:
The move was funded in part by Kickathons of years past. In addition to our scholarship fund, this year's fundraiser will help us hang mirrors to aid our training. Help improve our facility and our community by donating $5 to our fundraiser!
One of the things about studying martial arts at a not-for-profit school is that sometimes it bears more of a resemblance to Mr. Miyagi's backyard than it does a slick strip-mall storefront - even when we're in a strip mall.
I started training last summer at the old dojo on Riverside, where Sun Dragon had been for ages. It was a little tin-walled shack next to the Thundercloud, with extremely sketchy carpeting but a very authentic atmosphere. The less-charming thing about it was that it had no air conditioning, and by late June I was as happy as any of the ten-year vets to hear we were moving to a climate-controlled storefront on Westgate.
The thing was, the new spot needed some work. It needed changing rooms, an office, and a floor suitable to jump around and fall down on. And Sun Dragon is a non-profit - there's not a deep pool of money to pay for that sort of stuff out of. So our head instructor's partner, who's a contractor, agreed for the sake of domestic tranquility to handle the tough parts, and for the day labor - well, we'd all seen the movie. Wax on, wax off, and all that.
I hadn't painted in years, but working a roller isn't that hard. The really fun stuff was all new:
- Ripping a short wall-stub down with a hammer
- Spending time with my dojo-mates when none of us were trying to hit anyone else.
- Ghetto-texturing the strip where the wall-stub had connected to the main wall (mud and a texture roller woo! I still see that strip every time I'm in the dojo and wonder how I could have done it better.)
- Hanging drywall. Lots of drywall. (We built out the office and two changing rooms, which was a lot of drywall.)
- Drinking a beer. I hate beer, but after six hours of construction work, nothing else would do. It was perfect.
- Laying a tongue-and-groove cork floor. Then ripping it up, putting down plywood because using the old industrial carpet as a subfloor was too squishy, and laying it again.
- Painting pine boards with three coats before finally realizing they were going to be completely invisible unless you were on an eight-foot ladder.
- Framing a window for the Eye of God (the head instructor's office, so she can keep an eye on us without being deafened by the constant yelling.)
- Reveling in the air conditioning, the working plumbing, and the clean walls. And the parking.
The move was funded in part by Kickathons of years past. In addition to our scholarship fund, this year's fundraiser will help us hang mirrors to aid our training. Help improve our facility and our community by donating $5 to our fundraiser!
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