JimFormation

If you think, you’re late. If you’re late, you’re dead.

Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu Saying

It’s called the Turtle Position. It’s when a grappler goes belly-down onto his elbows and knees and protects his neck with his hands. It is a valid grappling position but, in my opinion, is a bad place to be and a bad habit to get into.

If you are turtled, it is difficult to attack your opponent; in a real fight, you can’t fight — you will get punched and kicked.

The Turtle Position is a viable transition position –just not a place to sit and pull your head and limbs in like a scared turtle, and wait.

It’s a habit I’ve fallen into. Turtling and waiting. I’ve trained myself into a bad habit and now I have to train myself out of it.

…

Last night my Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu instructor called me out on the mat to fight in front of my teammates.

Long story short: I had the upper hand for most of the fight, taking the top position and attacking his neck. He eventually fought out of the position and pressed his weight on me. What did I do? I turtled.

As soon as I turtled, he attacked my neck.I didn’t want to just sit there and defend like a pulled-in turtle. Instead, I thought (see quote above) …

I thought, “How do I get out of here?” Thinking is bad; reacting is good.

I thought about my escape and, half-way through, I thought about it some more. But by that time I’d lost what the Brazilian’s call “the momentum of the position.” I stalled. The momentum lost. The position lost.

I got stuck in an odd hybrid position where I’d escaped the turtle position but exposed my back. He just grabbed my neck school-yard style. Choked me. I had to tap. Dead.

I was dead because I was late. I was late because I thought.

…

In one way, I’m proud of myself. I attempted to do the proper thing — get out of the turtle position. But it was the first time I tried that particular escaping technique in a live situation and I failed because I had to think my way through it.

I tell noobs (that’s what we call the people just starting jiu-jitsu) that you have to be willing to fail when trying a new technique. You will fail time and again until you get the timing and technique right. Don’t sweat it; trust jiu-jitsu; things will work out.

I trusted. I failed. I’ll fail better next time. And a little better after that.

So I tapped. There’s no shame.

Maybe some frustration.

As Samuel Beckett wrote:

Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try again. Fail again. Fail better.

As you, dear Constant Reader, know, my family and I enjoy evening walks on the beach.

Our preferred beach is Island Beach State Park as you even have to pay a fee ($6 to $10) to get into the park, even after hours. Most would be beach-goers won’t pay the fee just to get onto the beach for an hour or two in the evening when the next beach’s north are free after 6PM.

We buy season passes to Island Beach State Park, so don’t have to pay the daily entrance fee. We go late in the day. Most people are leaving. Others aren’t coming. The beach is ours, except for the odd surf fisherman, late-stayers, and other people will pay for a quiet beach.

Last week, the Wife-Beast and I took the boys for a walk. The skies were threatening rain and abundant weather, but we braved it anyway.

Sure enough, about a half hour into our walk, the skies opened up. Rain and wind. The drops were so large and the wind so fierce, that the rain actually hurt when it hit your exposed skin.

We walked back to our car in the on-again, off-again rain.

My wife’s habit is to turn around and get one last look at the ocean as if saying goodbye to a friend about to board a plane. When she turned around, she saw a  huge full rainbow. The one end was so close to the shore that you could see it dip into the ocean and, if you looked real closely, you could see the glimmerings of the pot of gold. It seemed near enough to swim to.

It was magic.

Credo or Creed — Any formalized statement of beliefs, principles, or opinions. From Latin, meaning “I believe.”

Two of my favorite authors, H. L. Mencken and Robert Fulghum, have written personal creeds. (As an aside, Fulghum has written two — one a Storyteller’s Creed the other an essay called “Credo” which I won’t reprint here … maybe another time.)

H. L. Mencken was a newspaper and magazine man in the early 1900′s. I’ve always enjoyed his politics (though I don’t always agree with them) but most of all, I’ve enjoyed his way with words. He is witty; he can twist a phrase; his metaphors are unique. His thoughts are creative and brash.

I wouldn’t recommend the bulk of Mencken’s works to most people, as they are ripe with anti-political and anti-religious and anti-humanity rhetoric usually wrapped around the politics and news of his day. But I highly recommend reading his three autobiographical books — Happy Days, Newspaper Days, and Heathen Days — if you ever run across them.

Without further ado, here is Mencken’s Creed:

I believe that religion, generally speaking, has been a curse to mankind — that its modest and greatly overestimated services on the ethical side have been more than overcome by the damage it has done to clear and honest thinking.

I believe that no discovery of fact, however trivial, can be wholly useless to the race, and that no trumpeting of falsehood, however virtuous in intent, can be anything but vicious.

I believe that all government is evil, in that all government must necessarily make war upon liberty.

I believe that the evidence for immortality is no better than the evidence of witches, and deserves no more respect.

I believe in the complete freedom of thought and speech.

I believe in the capacity of man to conquer his world, and to find out what it is made of, and how it is run.

I believe in the reality of progress.

But the whole thing, after all, may be put very simply. I believe that it is better to tell the truth than to lie. I believe that it is better to be free than to be a slave. And I believe that it is better to know than be ignorant.

On the other side of my coin is Robert Fulghum. Fulghum is always readable, always kind, always approachable. Like Mencken, his thoughts are generally original and he makes me think. I recommend all of his books. As a matter of fact, if you want to really be my friend, I insist that you read his first book: Everything I Really Needed to Know I Learned In Kindergarten.

Above all, Fulghum is a storyteller. And a wonderful one at that. Here is his Storyteller’s Creed:

I believe that imagination is stronger than knowledge.

That myth is more potent than history.

That dreams are more powerful than facts.

That hope always triumphs over experience.

That laughter is the only cure for grief.

And I believe that love is stronger than death.

Robert Fuhlgum maintains his own website where he posts occasional drafts of his essays and miscellaneous thoughts every week or two. It’s a great place to visit: RobertFuhlgum.com.

Maybe soon, I’ll write my own creed. I think that it’s an interesting exercise into self-discovery. Hm …

My coffee routine is not as intense as it used to be. There was a time when I brought a thermos full of coffee to work and I sipped at it all day long. That was after my two morning cups and before my cup with dinner.

I blame John Holevinski. Before John, I never drank coffee. But he needed it.

John and I were college freshman together. I used to pick him up and drive him to the campus. He made me park as near to the cafeteria as possible because he needed, needed, NEEDED! his cup of coffee before class. His habit rubbed off on me; hell, I was already in line at the cafeteria.

I met the Wife-Beast shortly after that (she wasn’t the Wife-Beast then). We went to the same college — she was a nursing student and I’m pretty sure there is a nursing course entitled “Caffeine and the Modern Nurse.” Anyway, nursing school is where she picked up the habit.

Many of our early dates revolved around scrounging up just enough change to buy two cups of coffee and drinking it as we parked along the Barnegat Bay. Yes, we were drinking coffee — as far as you know.

So we got married and she, the good wife, would fill my thermos with coffee and send out to Make-Some-Money Land. It was good for a while — but at one point I thought I was getting really sick.

“I can’t seem to get out of my own way,” I told her one day. “I’m really tired all the time. Fatigued. I might have to go to the doctor.”

Then she ‘fessed up. “I changed our coffee. It only has half the caffeine. It’s called Half Caff,” she said.

Half Caff is evil. It’s made by Folgers. Here’s a link to it at the Folger’s site. I strongly recommend not drinking the stuff — it tastes like real coffee only makes you feel like you have to go see your doctor. I guess it would be okay, but only if you drink twice as much of it as you normally would.

Like I said, I’m not as hardcore about the stuff as I used to be. I only drink a cup to a cup-and-a-half in the morning and then I have another cup around 3 o’clock in the afternoon.

I write all that just to show you this neat poster I came across that has a lot of cool stuff to say about caffeine. Enjoy.

That poster was nice, but The Ruminator turned me on to graphics-laden page over at The Oatmeal that is even cooler: 15 Things Worth Knowing About Coffee.

It is notoriously difficult to achieve black belt status in Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu. Most people need a decade or more to earn one. Even though it only took BJ Penn three years (his nickname is “The Prodigy”), trust me, it wasn’t an easy three years.

There is an old Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu saying about becoming a black belt:

A black belt is a white belt that didn’t quit.

I liked it. I’ve always liked it. But now I’ve happened across a better one that is attributed to a Fightworks Podcast interview (if anyone knows who said it, please let me know):

Don’t die. As long as you keep training and don’t die, they have to give it to you someday.

I was thinking, “What if I owned a neighborhood bar? What would I want it to look like? Smell like? Sound like?”

Sound like. Hm.

I like the old juke box system. You put in a bunch of records (yeh, I call ‘em records — I’m old school; you’re lucky I didn’t call them 45′s) and for a few dimes people can pick a selection of songs. It hear that a lot of bars these days their juke box system is hooked somehow to the internet and you can play any of a billion songs. That’s bullshit. I want to control the ambiance of my joint.

But I digress.

So what songs would I want to put in my juke box? I started coming up with guidelines. The songs would have to:

1. Be familiar but not immediately so. I want you to think, “Hey, I forgot about this song. I love this song.”‘
2. Not be such a deep track to be considered avant garde (as in “avant garde a clue”) as to be unreachable.
3. Be written by or sung by an established band or singer.
4. Not be distracting.

Here’s some of the songs I’ve been thinking about. These are in no particular order and I’ll add to it over time. Consider it a work in progress. My goal is to have 150-200 songs.

• Sweet Jane, The Velvet Underground
• Please Don’t Let Me Be Misunderstood, The Animals
• All Day and All of the Night, The Kinks
• Hold On I’m Coming, Sam and Dave
• Peace Love and Understanding, Elvis Costello
• You Don’t Know How It Feels, Tom Petty
• Wishlist, Pearl Jam
• Eminence Front, The Who
• All the Young Dudes, Mott the Hoople
• Angie, The Rolling Stones
• Everybody Wants to Rule the World, Tears for Fears
• Land Down Under, Men at Work
• Shakin’ Your Tree, ZZ Top
• The Passenger, Iggy Pop
• Life During War Times, Talking Heads
• The Pusher, Steppenwolf
• Black Dog, Led Zepplin
• Take the Money and Run, Steve Miller Band
• You’ve Made Me So Very Happy, Blood Sweat and Tears
• She’s a Lady, Tom Jones
• Touch Me, The Doors

I’ll continue with my list tomorrow. If you have suggestions, let me know in the comments. Hell, they might even make the list — Hell, they’ll probably make the list.

I don’t want to be a tourist. I’m a traveler.

A tourist wants to see the Grand Canyon. A traveler wants to hit the truck stop for some locally culled rib eye, talk to the waitresses at the gin mill they go to after their shift, and have a smoke with the guy who packs up the mules. And then he’ll see what’s going on at the Grand Canyon. A traveler might even say, “Screw the Grand Canyon. That’s where all the yahoos go. I’m hitting Antelope Canyon on the Navajo Reservation.”

A tourist goes to the top of the Eiffel Tower. A traveler hooks up with a local English-speaking writer who brings him to an underground club where they dance with the daughter’s of rich American businessmen until 3AM and then hit an all-night cafe for strong coffee before watching the sunrise over the Seine while flirting with hookers on their way home.

For a tourist, the point of the journey is the destination. For a traveler, the point of the journey is the Journey.

Ron Bennington, the best talk radio man you never heard of, recently gave this advice to a young man traveling across country — coast-to-coast, east-to-west — with his girl. It’s the sound advice of a Traveler. I give it to you, word for word –

Don’t fuckin’ keep your windows rolled up. Roll ‘em down. Hang your fucking head out.

Go out at night; look for some stars. Howl at the fuckin’ moon.

Dance with locals.

Don’t get caught up in big fuckin’ hotels. That fuckin’ crazy little motel — you know, with five or six units  – and you say, “I don’t know. That looks scary.” Stay there!

Fuckin’ put your iron on your chest at night, in case you have to wake up swinging it in the morning.

Whatever you need to do.

Live while you’re out there. You may only do this once.

My good friend, the Ruminator, wrote a nice companion piece after leaving a comment about this post. I recommend take a trip over to his little corner of the web and reading it for yourself: Travelin’ at Random Ruminations.

It Would Be Easy

Sometimes it just is.

When we go to the ground, you are in my world. The ground is the ocean; I am the shark, and most people don’t even know how to swim.

~ The Machado Brothers, Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu Legends

Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu is a martial art that looks to bring the fight to the ground as quickly and efficiently as possible using throws and takedowns. (It is our contention that most real fights eventually digress to the clinch and ground anyway.)

Once on the ground, the Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu practitioner has the tools and training to efficiently move on the ground, establish a dominant position, and end the fight using the method of his choice – from simple pins to devastating joint manipulations, from chokes to pugilism. All the while, the poor victim is lost and probably doesn’t know the first thing about how to move or protect himself on the ground.

The ground is my ocean. I am the shark, and most people don’t even know how to swim.

For those that don’t know, I’m a student of Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu. That’s the martial art that you see most of the mixed martial artists use once a fight has naturally digressed to the ground.

If you’re in that fight world, you either have to know Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu or, at least, know how to counter it (and the best way to counter Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu is by using Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu).

I got involved with it in the early 1990′s but, because of career and family commitments, had to stop.

Almost 2 years ago, I got back into the game, largely because my 13-year-old son wanted to take classes. When I talked to the school’s owner about my son, he said, “I’ll teach your son, but only if you come back too.” He likes to have “old school” guys in his school. I accepted, but told him I might only be able to come once a week or so.

Two years later, I practice almost every day. If I’m not in class, I’m drilling in the garage. And I help teach the kids class and have taught the noobs in the Beginners Class. I’m hooked again.

But Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu hurts. I’m constantly sore — and not just muscle soreness. A Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu student is constantly fighting one minor (or major) injury or another. Right now, my left calf is hurting to the point where I’m limping. Same with my right quadriceps muscle. I’ve had a tweaked right groin for about a month. And I’m just sore.

So why do it?

It’s certainly not just to keep in shape. I could join a gym. It would be cheaper and would hurt less. But being in shape is certainly part of it. I’m in as good a shape at 46-years-old as I have ever been.

Self defense? Actually, I felt could handle myself mano-a-mano since the early 1990′s when I started learning the sport. Certainly, I’m much more prepared now than then. But that’s part of it too.

Competition? I have no real drive to compete. I have competed and will compete in Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu tournaments again. But more for the experience than the sport of it.

I think most of the reason that I’ve been pushing myself so hard are my teammates. As I told my buddy Ray on Sunday (just he and I were at school during Open Mat), “I want to stay in the mix. We have a lot of young guys that want to compete in big time grappling tournaments and mixed martial arts events. I want to keep up with them just so that I can help push their skills.”

Maybe it’s an ego thing: I’m 46-years-old and I’m grappling with kids half my age. Good fighters. And I’m pushing their game. That feels good.

And these guys are getting better and better. If I want to stay in the mix, I have to get better.

By staying in the mix, I stay in shape; I’m better able to defend myself and my family; and, when I want to compete, I’m prepared to compete.

A Bit About Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu Teammates

Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu is a very intimate martial art. You are in constant contact with your training partner.

You will be sweating on him and he on you. His sweat will be rubbed into your eye and dripped into your mouth.

His blood will get on your gi.

When you are sparring, your training partner is trying to choke you, break your arm, dislocate your shoulder, tear off your foot, or any other number of nasty-nasties. You are doing your damnest to do the same to him.

When you or your partner taps out (signals that he’s been submitted before any real injury is inflicted) or the time buzzer rings, you shake hands and smile. You may embrace and laugh. For you were just in mortal combat with someone whose sole intent was to put you in a position to affect grievous harm on you, and you on him, and both of you survived unharmed and better for it. You are blood brothers.

It is this battle that brings us together and makes a bond.

Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu Ad (from Brazil)

All the hours spent watching TV will be replaced by training.

Instead of your good smelling girlfriend, you will be rolling around with bad smelling, sweaty men.

Your ears will become deformed until they look like cauliflowers. Your fingers will become callous and your joints will hurt, your knees and ankles will never be the same again.

Yet, you will be able to practice this sport jiu-jitsu and you WILL love it!