Given that our recent focus in Jiu-Jitsu has been all things lower extremities: heel hooks, ankle locks, knee bars, and now toe holds, I’m not surprised by how colorful my skin has become from the knee down. This adds to the near-omnipresent arm bruises.
But one night before class, I considered how cool it would be to have a black eye. I’m all about new experiences; why not this one? I’ve thought this a handful of times, so the only reason it’s unique now, is that I sort of got my wish.
One night for rolls at Jiu-Jitsu, a song by Pierce the Veil called “Bulls in the Bronx” played. During a flamenco interlude, I couldn’t help but stop rolling with Surfer Dude to “dance” while kneeling. Not missing a beat, he pulled on a prim and proper face like a flamenco guitarist and pretended to play. It was priceless.
Back to rolling, which always involves laughter when I’m with SD (and most people, but especially SD), I said, “Maybe we’re just having too much fun,” a second before that line was sung.
He smiled and fist bumped me with our sparring gloves on.
Later, I was rolling with Balloon Man when “Ride the Lightning” by Metallica played. I ALMOST pulled the same stunt by telling Balloon Man (not going to abbreviate that one), “Now it’s time to die,” to align with the song.
I didn’t have the nerve. I told SD about it later. He said,
My Jiu-Jitsu Instructor asked if anyone had a question. I raised my hand and asked if you could sneak a choke in from North/South when someone was turtling. (You follow all that?) “Money” was nearest, so Instructor demonstrated on him.
When he asked if there were any more questions, I asked what to do if the person’s turtle is so tight you can’t slip an arm in.
So, Instructor demonstrated with Money again, break dancing on top of him before ultimately sneaking in the choke. Meanwhile, Money’s getting his rear repeatedly handed to him.
“Any other questions?”
“I’m trying to think of one just so I can see you mess with Money some more,” I said.
He laughed. Money looked at me and laughed too. Then Instructor turned to him and said, “Next time I’ll demo with her and let you watch.”
It was time to roll. Instructor turned on music.
And I started dancing.
Typically, for this to happen, I have to be very comfortable with the people around me. So me dancing at Jiu-Jitsu… What the heck was that?!
For starters, it was, at best, some weird kick thing reminiscent of Elaine from Seinfeld.
Thoughtful One arrived after me, and since I saw him coming, I grabbed his card from the box when I grabbed mine. His card was full save a few Fight Simulation boxes on the bottom.
I handed him his card and said, “Nice and full.”
“What?” he said, tossing his card onto the bench in a manner that made me think, “Ooookay.”
“Your card. It’s practically full.”
“Oh.” He relaxed. “I thought you were commenting on my stomach. I appreciate the honesty, but…”
I laughed. “Yeah, man, big breakfast or something?”
I would never be rude to any of these people, if not for self-preservation, for basic human decency, and because none of them give reason for rudeness.
~~~
When the gym had a Christmas party, I brought my son so he could play with the Little Instructors again like on our two park days. Thoughtful One brought his wife and, after introducing me to her, added, “She’s a novelist.”
The Last Bookstore in L.A. is where our family went over Thanksgiving break. (Maybe, eventually, I’ll get around to posting about our Christmas break).
But before I get to that, a followup to my “Best laid (sneaky Christmas) plans” post. Originally, I was hitting up thrift stores because I meant the coat for Mrs. Instructor to be a gag gift. But then my focus shifted.
Now on to the blog post!
The Last Bookstore was featured in the blog of my homegirl Janis at Retirementally Challenged (clever!) My eyes lit up when I read:
My Jiu-Jitsu instructor loves the oranges from our tree. Once I was holding a bag of them when I came in for class. “Hi, Ilsa,” he greeted me.
“Hi,” I replied cheerfully, as one does and then usually moves on. But he held his ground, looking at me with a big smile. Okay, weird, I thought.
Then he said, “Who are the oranges for?”
“Oh! You, of course.” I had figured that was a given, but he later told me he was excited, so he wanted to be sure. Ha!
I typically deliver oranges in an empty tortilla bag. Once I confused Mrs. Instructor when her husband brought home a box of crackers that was actually full of oranges. Another time, I finally emptied the last of my protein powder that had expired months prior (so much for bulking up), and thought the container too nice to toss. But what could I use it for?
Oranges, of course!
Then there was that whole trench coat incident. Mrs. Instructor had called me an orange dealer, so I said I should bring in oranges under a trench coat.
The class started, as usual, with Mrs. Instructor and me partnering together. Also, as usual, we struggled to remember the moves. I’m generally inclined to watch other groups and try to figure it out from them, but Mrs. Instructor is, for some strange reason, NOT afraid of the instructor, as though she’s perfectly comfortable with him or something.
“I’m raising my hand,” she said.
Fiiiiinnneee.
Instructor joined us, but then Surfer Dude (SD) arrived, so Instructor helped his wife and assigned SD to me. That was all good.
Then Instructor introduced our next move, a “bear roll.”
You reach one hand through the other person’s knees, the other hand under their back, grab their wrist with both hands, get a strong stance, bend, lift, flip. Voila!
I looked at SD with one eyebrow raised.
Who am I kidding? I never thought that.
Anyway, heading home one day, passing the house on the corner, which I pass every time I leave or come home, a guy walking toward the front door half turned to look my way as I drove by.
Whoa, I thought. That guy looks a lot like the guitarist from Surfer Dude and Blue Belt’s band.
Nah, couldn’t be.
But then… right build, right height, right hair, right half of face I saw as he turned (actually it was the left side), though I was across the street and driving by quickly…
His bandmates call him “Subie” because he drives a Subaru, and I have admired that beautiful blue car in the driveway every time I see it, even once thinking, “Hey, a Subaru, like Subie.”
The similarities were enough for me to reach out to Blue Belt as soon as I pulled into my driveway.
Since Tess’s departure to the other side of the country, I’ve had a running gag going in our JJ Ladies text group, frequently implying that Tess will be present at whatever get-together we plan.
I’ll say things like, “Tess, when does your flight arrive? I’ll pick you up.”
I used it recently when trying to plan a karaoke night. When we moved the date, I wrote: “Tess, I hope you can avoid a change of flight fee.”
Then it was, “Who wants to join Tess and me at karaoke?”
This made Tess laugh and “Pink” say, “I love how you keep sneaking Tess in there.”
Karaoke night never came to fruition, but that didn’t stop me from having a little fun.
Writing and Martial Arts 