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!
Imagine two cultures.
One, a clan-based warrior people. Every child becomes at least competent with weapons, and many people, men and women, join warrior societies and raid, duel, and feud all the time. They have an intricate code of honor and obligation, and follow it to the letter - to do otherwise is unthinkable.
Another is an absolutely pacifist society. They would - and do - die rather than raise an hand against another human. They are nomadic, living it wagons and avoiding cities because wherever they go, young people are intrigued by their beliefs, giving them the reputation that they steal children. They are a happy, singing people, but are distrusted and harassed.
Which culture descended from the other?
I still have the Wheel of Time on the brain. Don't let that distract you from donating $5 to our fundraiser!
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
My Life and Karate, Day Twenty-One
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!
It's Tuesday, and it's also the Gathering Storm release day, so... have a status update!
- We're at 55% overall, which is awesome, but there are less than two weeks left! If you've considered donating, please go ahead and do so!
- Thanks to everyone for your kind words about the short story - it's much appreciated! I haven't written non-video-game-related short fiction in... well, I can't remember how long. But I'm glad people enjoyed it.
- I'm definitely at the flailing-for-topics stage, so the next ten blog posts will be much more general. I'll stick to the one-a-day limit, but aim more to amuse than to educate, since no doubt y'all have gotten the point by now.
Thanks for reading, and I hope you're having fun!
Sun Dragon is home to one of the most consistently awesome groups of people I've ever encountered. Please support the awesomeness by donating $5 to our fundraiser!
It's Tuesday, and it's also the Gathering Storm release day, so... have a status update!
- We're at 55% overall, which is awesome, but there are less than two weeks left! If you've considered donating, please go ahead and do so!
- Thanks to everyone for your kind words about the short story - it's much appreciated! I haven't written non-video-game-related short fiction in... well, I can't remember how long. But I'm glad people enjoyed it.
- I'm definitely at the flailing-for-topics stage, so the next ten blog posts will be much more general. I'll stick to the one-a-day limit, but aim more to amuse than to educate, since no doubt y'all have gotten the point by now.
Thanks for reading, and I hope you're having fun!
Sun Dragon is home to one of the most consistently awesome groups of people I've ever encountered. Please support the awesomeness by donating $5 to our fundraiser!
Monday, October 26, 2009
My Life and Karate, Day Twenty
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!
This is completely unrelated except in that it involved a bunch of people from karate, but it's too good a story not to tell.
KJ, Laura and I went to the Texas Renaissance Festival this weekend. We were meeting a bunch of other folks there the next morning, but Laura really REALLY likes to camp, so we packed up and shipped out after work on Friday. Laura's station wagon was pretty jam-packed, and I was pretty tightly wedged in to the back seat, but it wasn't unbearable and we didn't have to leave anything critical behind.
The festival is about two and a half hours away. About an hour in, Laura began muttering about how it really wasn't that windy, but none of us thought anything of it. Half an hour later, she said she thought something was funny - maybe a tire was flat?
"No, if a tire was flat you'd totally feel it," I said.
"We can stop at the next gas station," said KJ. The next gas station was probably fifteen minutes away.
"Ok," says Laura.
*pause*
BANG!
"Ok, NOW the tire's flat."
Laura steered the shuddering wagon onto the shoulder, and we got out. The right rear tire was shredded. It was chilly and very dark, but, conveniently, we had a lovely electric lantern handy. We unloaded the back of the wagon and, working together, got the spare on in record time.
We wedged the flat tire back in the well, but it was too big to fit neatly. This wouldn't have been a problem except that we needed every cubic inch of space. I ended up in the back seat with a plastic tub on my lap big enough that I couldn't see over it. It was very isolating, and I spent the next fifteen minutes praying that we wouldn't get rear-ended, or I'd be be squashed like a bug.
The guys at the nearest Wal-Mart weren't much help. They gave us vague directions to "that guy who does tires" and, as it was nine o'clock on a Friday, we decided to just put some more air in the donut and deal with it in the morning. None of us felt terribly secure on the teeny, cute little spare tire with the car as loaded down as it was, but there weren't very many options in the middle of nowhere, East Texas, at that hour.
The next morning, Laura and I hopped in the car - KJ stayed behind to wash the breakfast dishes - and set out in search of someone who could sell us a tire. The directions we'd gotten the previous night pointed to a location at least half an hour away, and we had no way of knowing if the place was open - or even if it really existed.
As we were coming up to 105, I suggested we pull into the Shell and ask. We turned into their parking lot, and, as we turned, we spotted a sight across the street - "Tire and Tractor". It was a very small building with two garage doors and a couple piles of sagging tires out front. It wouldn't have been very promising, but we were fairly desperate - and the doors were open. Laura swung the car around and we pulled in.
There were two guys inside looking bored, and they were more than happy to make fun of our shredded tire and replace it with another one that wasn't new but was more or less the right size, and we were thrilled. We were back at the faire no more than half an hour after we'd left, and the tire held all the way home.
Sun Dragon is home to one of the most consistently awesome groups of people I've ever encountered. Please support the awesomeness by donating $5 to our fundraiser!
This is completely unrelated except in that it involved a bunch of people from karate, but it's too good a story not to tell.
KJ, Laura and I went to the Texas Renaissance Festival this weekend. We were meeting a bunch of other folks there the next morning, but Laura really REALLY likes to camp, so we packed up and shipped out after work on Friday. Laura's station wagon was pretty jam-packed, and I was pretty tightly wedged in to the back seat, but it wasn't unbearable and we didn't have to leave anything critical behind.
The festival is about two and a half hours away. About an hour in, Laura began muttering about how it really wasn't that windy, but none of us thought anything of it. Half an hour later, she said she thought something was funny - maybe a tire was flat?
"No, if a tire was flat you'd totally feel it," I said.
"We can stop at the next gas station," said KJ. The next gas station was probably fifteen minutes away.
"Ok," says Laura.
*pause*
BANG!
"Ok, NOW the tire's flat."
Laura steered the shuddering wagon onto the shoulder, and we got out. The right rear tire was shredded. It was chilly and very dark, but, conveniently, we had a lovely electric lantern handy. We unloaded the back of the wagon and, working together, got the spare on in record time.
We wedged the flat tire back in the well, but it was too big to fit neatly. This wouldn't have been a problem except that we needed every cubic inch of space. I ended up in the back seat with a plastic tub on my lap big enough that I couldn't see over it. It was very isolating, and I spent the next fifteen minutes praying that we wouldn't get rear-ended, or I'd be be squashed like a bug.
The guys at the nearest Wal-Mart weren't much help. They gave us vague directions to "that guy who does tires" and, as it was nine o'clock on a Friday, we decided to just put some more air in the donut and deal with it in the morning. None of us felt terribly secure on the teeny, cute little spare tire with the car as loaded down as it was, but there weren't very many options in the middle of nowhere, East Texas, at that hour.
The next morning, Laura and I hopped in the car - KJ stayed behind to wash the breakfast dishes - and set out in search of someone who could sell us a tire. The directions we'd gotten the previous night pointed to a location at least half an hour away, and we had no way of knowing if the place was open - or even if it really existed.
As we were coming up to 105, I suggested we pull into the Shell and ask. We turned into their parking lot, and, as we turned, we spotted a sight across the street - "Tire and Tractor". It was a very small building with two garage doors and a couple piles of sagging tires out front. It wouldn't have been very promising, but we were fairly desperate - and the doors were open. Laura swung the car around and we pulled in.
There were two guys inside looking bored, and they were more than happy to make fun of our shredded tire and replace it with another one that wasn't new but was more or less the right size, and we were thrilled. We were back at the faire no more than half an hour after we'd left, and the tire held all the way home.
Sun Dragon is home to one of the most consistently awesome groups of people I've ever encountered. Please support the awesomeness by donating $5 to our fundraiser!
Sunday, October 25, 2009
My Life and Karate, Day Nineteen
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!
So I'm running up against the "every day" rule here - I got back from Renfaire this afternoon, and I'm pretty braindead. Operating on the principle that a picture is worth a thousand words, tonight's post will consist of simply this:
I write about zombies too long, I become one! Please do consider donating $5 to our fundraiser!
So I'm running up against the "every day" rule here - I got back from Renfaire this afternoon, and I'm pretty braindead. Operating on the principle that a picture is worth a thousand words, tonight's post will consist of simply this:
I write about zombies too long, I become one! Please do consider donating $5 to our fundraiser!
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
My Life and Karate, Day Fifteen
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!
Our instructor Joy's teachers Shihan Nancy and Kyoshi Sarah (Shihan and Kyoshi are titles referring to their holders' sixth and fifth degree black belt ranks, respectively) came down this spring to administer the first-degree black belt test for two Sun Dragon students. We spent the weeks before their arrival practicing super-formal address to everyone and scrubbing every surface compulsively. They're really very nice people, but the mood was that of a family preparing for a visit from its revered but strict and intimidating older relatives. (A feeling I'm used to - every time Grandma visits, Mom pays for a visit from a cleaning service to prepare. Sometimes two visits.)
The first night they were there, they taught a couple classes (which were interesting and fun and just about the whole school turned out for them, which was neat) and then we went to dinner. We went to a Mexican place not far away. It was Friday night, and we had a fairly big party, so it wasn't that big a surprise that there was a wait. It was slightly annoying that we had to stand outside because there was no place to sit, but it wasn't that cold.
Ten minutes later, it was getting that cold. I had a sweatshirt in my car, so I ran to get it. A little further redistribution of outerwear later, and we were fine. We stood shoulder to shoulder in the traditional damn-it's-cold circle, and I felt very much at home. So did the visiting Chicagoans, I imagine. One big table on the patio opened up shortly thereafter, and half the group, including our guests, went with apologies to the rest of us to sit down.
Fifteen minutes after that, we sent a messenger to the hostess to find out what our place in line was. She said the table next to the other half of our party was just finishing up, so it wouldn't be long. Fair enough. We reformed the huddle.
Ten minutes later and the people at our promised table were lingering over drinks. The huddle drifted slightly closer and we started to shoot glares at them.
Another ten minutes passed with no movement. The hostess apologized profusely, but there really wasn't anything she could do. She was very nice, really, and we all tried hard not to catch her in the crossfire of glaring.
Ten minutes later, the table finally picked up the check. We cheered very quietly. They started passing it around and obviously debating it. We followed it like spectators at a tennis match. One person pulled out his wallet and then rummaged through his pockets, and we groaned. We debated offering to cover the tip for them if they'd just go away, but decided to wait.
The seated half of the party had already gotten their food. We were still waiting. We were now leaning on the porch rail about ten feet from our adversaries and making no secret of our intense interest in their leavetaking. It took another ten minutes before they actually got up. As near as we could tell, they never noticed us at all.
At this point we were cold, hungry, and cranky. When we finally sat down, our other table immediately passed us their half-finished appetizers so we wouldn't faint. They were of course done with their meals before we got ours, but they graciously waited while we ate. It didn't take long. In the end, we were grateful that the two black belt candidates had decided to go home and retire early instead of joining us, and fervently hoped that the meal wasn't as memorable for our guests as it had been for our table.
I think this incident highlights the effectiveness of Sun Dragon's violence prevention training, because without that, there surely would have been a rumble. Help us prevent more restaurant riots by donating $5 to our fundraiser!
Our instructor Joy's teachers Shihan Nancy and Kyoshi Sarah (Shihan and Kyoshi are titles referring to their holders' sixth and fifth degree black belt ranks, respectively) came down this spring to administer the first-degree black belt test for two Sun Dragon students. We spent the weeks before their arrival practicing super-formal address to everyone and scrubbing every surface compulsively. They're really very nice people, but the mood was that of a family preparing for a visit from its revered but strict and intimidating older relatives. (A feeling I'm used to - every time Grandma visits, Mom pays for a visit from a cleaning service to prepare. Sometimes two visits.)
The first night they were there, they taught a couple classes (which were interesting and fun and just about the whole school turned out for them, which was neat) and then we went to dinner. We went to a Mexican place not far away. It was Friday night, and we had a fairly big party, so it wasn't that big a surprise that there was a wait. It was slightly annoying that we had to stand outside because there was no place to sit, but it wasn't that cold.
Ten minutes later, it was getting that cold. I had a sweatshirt in my car, so I ran to get it. A little further redistribution of outerwear later, and we were fine. We stood shoulder to shoulder in the traditional damn-it's-cold circle, and I felt very much at home. So did the visiting Chicagoans, I imagine. One big table on the patio opened up shortly thereafter, and half the group, including our guests, went with apologies to the rest of us to sit down.
Fifteen minutes after that, we sent a messenger to the hostess to find out what our place in line was. She said the table next to the other half of our party was just finishing up, so it wouldn't be long. Fair enough. We reformed the huddle.
Ten minutes later and the people at our promised table were lingering over drinks. The huddle drifted slightly closer and we started to shoot glares at them.
Another ten minutes passed with no movement. The hostess apologized profusely, but there really wasn't anything she could do. She was very nice, really, and we all tried hard not to catch her in the crossfire of glaring.
Ten minutes later, the table finally picked up the check. We cheered very quietly. They started passing it around and obviously debating it. We followed it like spectators at a tennis match. One person pulled out his wallet and then rummaged through his pockets, and we groaned. We debated offering to cover the tip for them if they'd just go away, but decided to wait.
The seated half of the party had already gotten their food. We were still waiting. We were now leaning on the porch rail about ten feet from our adversaries and making no secret of our intense interest in their leavetaking. It took another ten minutes before they actually got up. As near as we could tell, they never noticed us at all.
At this point we were cold, hungry, and cranky. When we finally sat down, our other table immediately passed us their half-finished appetizers so we wouldn't faint. They were of course done with their meals before we got ours, but they graciously waited while we ate. It didn't take long. In the end, we were grateful that the two black belt candidates had decided to go home and retire early instead of joining us, and fervently hoped that the meal wasn't as memorable for our guests as it had been for our table.
I think this incident highlights the effectiveness of Sun Dragon's violence prevention training, because without that, there surely would have been a rumble. Help us prevent more restaurant riots by donating $5 to our fundraiser!
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
My Life and Karate, Day Fourteen
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!
We're two weeks in! Today's is going to be another housekeeping/status post because it's Tuesday, and that's apparently my right brain's contractually guaranteed day off.
First of all, thank you to everyone who has donated! It's much appreciated, and it's going to a good cause. If you haven't donated yet, please consider it! I'm only asking $5 (although people have been much more generous than that, for which I am grateful,) and while I know times are tight, I hope it's something you can manage. (Incidentally, I was totally serious about the wearing a Ninja Turtles headband if y'all chip in $1000 in total. Pass the links around to your friends, and you too can revel in your power to instigate absurd pictures!)
If rather than donating money, you or your organization would like to donate prizes, that would be just as welcome. We have students of all ages from kindergarten on up participating in the Kickathon, and we would love to reward all of their efforts in some small way. Also, we'll be recognizing companies that donate prizes on our website and at the Kickathon! Email me for more details about prize donation.
We've got quite a few more days, and therefore posts, until November 7th. That's a lot of topics! I have a handful in the queue, but if you have topic requests, by all means send them over! My email address is in the sidebar, and I'm happy to take requests and also answer questions, provide additional info about the school, etc.
Either tomorrow or Thursday I'm going to start something different - I have a short story that, while it is currently a glorious mess, I think I can thump into shape. It's about zombies and karate and nanomolecular body modifications. Because, you know, regular zombies are so last week. So that will most likely go up in three parts over this week/weekend, unless it just refuses to stop being awful, which is always a possibility.
Thanks again for everyone's support - I hope you're enjoying this little exercise. And don't forget to donate $5 to our fundraiser!
We're two weeks in! Today's is going to be another housekeeping/status post because it's Tuesday, and that's apparently my right brain's contractually guaranteed day off.
First of all, thank you to everyone who has donated! It's much appreciated, and it's going to a good cause. If you haven't donated yet, please consider it! I'm only asking $5 (although people have been much more generous than that, for which I am grateful,) and while I know times are tight, I hope it's something you can manage. (Incidentally, I was totally serious about the wearing a Ninja Turtles headband if y'all chip in $1000 in total. Pass the links around to your friends, and you too can revel in your power to instigate absurd pictures!)
If rather than donating money, you or your organization would like to donate prizes, that would be just as welcome. We have students of all ages from kindergarten on up participating in the Kickathon, and we would love to reward all of their efforts in some small way. Also, we'll be recognizing companies that donate prizes on our website and at the Kickathon! Email me for more details about prize donation.
We've got quite a few more days, and therefore posts, until November 7th. That's a lot of topics! I have a handful in the queue, but if you have topic requests, by all means send them over! My email address is in the sidebar, and I'm happy to take requests and also answer questions, provide additional info about the school, etc.
Either tomorrow or Thursday I'm going to start something different - I have a short story that, while it is currently a glorious mess, I think I can thump into shape. It's about zombies and karate and nanomolecular body modifications. Because, you know, regular zombies are so last week. So that will most likely go up in three parts over this week/weekend, unless it just refuses to stop being awful, which is always a possibility.
Thanks again for everyone's support - I hope you're enjoying this little exercise. And don't forget to donate $5 to our fundraiser!
Monday, October 19, 2009
My Life and Karate, Day Thirteen
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!
Here's the less-lovely thing about our dojo's lovely cork flooring - it's very smooth. Now that doesn't sound like a bad thing, and indeed most people seem to have little problem with it, but my feet sweat more than the usual amount, and in the summertime I just can't get a grip on it.
It started after we'd gotten the floor sealed. We had one practice before that, and that was more slippery than the rubber-mat-and-industrial-carpet flooring at the old place, but that was to be expected. The first day on the newly-sealed floor, though, I was slipping and sliding all over the place. I'd try to hold a stance and watch in panic as my feet slooowly slid apart, leaving me to choose whether to heave them back together or to end up in a very uncomfortable position on the floor.
When the second practice proved no better, I went home and googled for solutions to sweaty feet. The easiest seemed to be to coat my feet in aluminum-based antiperspirant, but that didn't seem feasible - I'd leave little antiperspirant footprints all over the nice new floor. On the hippier side of things, quite a few sites suggested I soak my feet in black tea every day for ten days, and it would shrink the sweat glands or something. Well, black tea is cheap, and it seemed worth a shot.
I got a box of plain, unflavored black tea, got out the big stew pot, boiled some water, steeped the tea, and stuck my feet in it. At this point I was working from home, so I could sit there fore the requisite 20 minutes with my laptop on my lap at any point during the day. I felt a little weird about it, and the cats clearly thought I was crazy, but it did make my feet smell nice, at least.
All the websites said it would take a least a week before it took effect, so in the meantime, I slid around the floor like a drunken penguin. At one point during a formal pair exercise I stepped forward to throw a punch and my foot just kept going - I ended up in a seriously uncomfortable half-split. Fortunately my partner was a black belt, long used to dodging the most ridiculously inept of attacks.
I kept soaking my feet in tea. I kept sliding around the floor. I took to carrying a little washrag tucked behind my belt to mop up the puddles, and my white gi pants turned gray below the knee from my frantic efforts to rub my feet dry in between exercises. My stances got shorter and I lived in fear of sliding the wrong direction and blowing out a knee.
Finally, the ten days were up. My feet were a strange yellow color, but they still sweated like mad. After the next practice I went humbly to my head instructor and asked permission to wear shoes. Now I stick to the floor almost too much, but at least my feet stay where I put them.
I have another pair of Vibrams for everyday use, and I get stopped on the street on a regular basis and asked about them. They're awesome! Thanks to everyone who has donated $5 to our fundraiser - we're not done yet! We've still got a long way to go.
Here's the less-lovely thing about our dojo's lovely cork flooring - it's very smooth. Now that doesn't sound like a bad thing, and indeed most people seem to have little problem with it, but my feet sweat more than the usual amount, and in the summertime I just can't get a grip on it.
It started after we'd gotten the floor sealed. We had one practice before that, and that was more slippery than the rubber-mat-and-industrial-carpet flooring at the old place, but that was to be expected. The first day on the newly-sealed floor, though, I was slipping and sliding all over the place. I'd try to hold a stance and watch in panic as my feet slooowly slid apart, leaving me to choose whether to heave them back together or to end up in a very uncomfortable position on the floor.
When the second practice proved no better, I went home and googled for solutions to sweaty feet. The easiest seemed to be to coat my feet in aluminum-based antiperspirant, but that didn't seem feasible - I'd leave little antiperspirant footprints all over the nice new floor. On the hippier side of things, quite a few sites suggested I soak my feet in black tea every day for ten days, and it would shrink the sweat glands or something. Well, black tea is cheap, and it seemed worth a shot.
I got a box of plain, unflavored black tea, got out the big stew pot, boiled some water, steeped the tea, and stuck my feet in it. At this point I was working from home, so I could sit there fore the requisite 20 minutes with my laptop on my lap at any point during the day. I felt a little weird about it, and the cats clearly thought I was crazy, but it did make my feet smell nice, at least.
All the websites said it would take a least a week before it took effect, so in the meantime, I slid around the floor like a drunken penguin. At one point during a formal pair exercise I stepped forward to throw a punch and my foot just kept going - I ended up in a seriously uncomfortable half-split. Fortunately my partner was a black belt, long used to dodging the most ridiculously inept of attacks.
I kept soaking my feet in tea. I kept sliding around the floor. I took to carrying a little washrag tucked behind my belt to mop up the puddles, and my white gi pants turned gray below the knee from my frantic efforts to rub my feet dry in between exercises. My stances got shorter and I lived in fear of sliding the wrong direction and blowing out a knee.
Finally, the ten days were up. My feet were a strange yellow color, but they still sweated like mad. After the next practice I went humbly to my head instructor and asked permission to wear shoes. Now I stick to the floor almost too much, but at least my feet stay where I put them.
I have another pair of Vibrams for everyday use, and I get stopped on the street on a regular basis and asked about them. They're awesome! Thanks to everyone who has donated $5 to our fundraiser - we're not done yet! We've still got a long way to go.
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