The home of Buddhism, Martial Arts, Diabetes and health…
Author: Shawn
I am a practitioner of the martial arts and student of the Buddhist faith. I have been a Type 1 Diabetic since I was 4 years old and have been fighting the uphill battle it includes ever since. I enjoy fitness and health and looking for new ways to improve both, as well as examining the many questions of life. Although I have no formal medical training, I have amassed a wealth of knowledge regarding health, Diabetes, martial arts as well as Buddhism and philosophy. My goal is to share this information with the world, and perhaps provide some sarcastic humour along the way. Welcome!
Last night was an enjoyable evening. We had a couple of friends over, barbecued some hamburgers and hot dogs, followed by a haze of beer and cigars around the fire pit. It had a distinct feeling of normalcy to it and it was nice to have friends over “in person” as opposed to always chatting with them over text or social media. It was the perfect evening, other than my clumsiness leading to falling off of a chair and tearing open one of my toes. Let that sink in for a moment: I fell OFF of a chair… not fell out. And why is it always my toes??? I’m Diabetic, damn it! Foot injuries are the worst but any time I hurt myself that involves bleeding, it seems to be the feet. But I digress…
We also got to enjoy a wonderful buffalo chicken dip made by one our friends. The recipe for which should be forthcoming… Right, Tori? RIGHT??? The evening closed out with our friends departing, our children in bed and a quiet ten minutes of putting away chairs and coolers as I reflected on the calm, entertaining aspects of the evening. It had me looking forward to more evenings like this, perhaps with larger groups as the world slowly begins to TRY and return to some level of pre-pandemic normalcy. At time of writing this, Saskatchewan is only one day away from initiating their “Phase 3” of the Province’s re-opening plan and removing most if not all of the Province’s restrictions.
With that in mind, I believe that we’re heading into a new level of challenge. Over the past year, It’s been interesting watching the evolution of how people have dealt with the pandemic and the actions they’ve taken. For example, my mother was a die hard advocate against the wearing of a mask, even claiming that her asthma made it impossible for her to wear one to any extent. Now, with conditions being lifted she refuses to go out without one, even when she no longer has to. She was absolutely of the opinion she didn’t need/want the COVID-19 vaccine and refused to get it. But now, she’s gotten her first dose and totally intends on getting her second dose.
People who initially fought against many aspects of the pandemic are now realizing that some steps need to be taken in order to try and nip this thing in the bud; just in time for numbers to reach the desired level to start re-opening everything. But with the floodgates about to be opened, there are a number of things that we will begin to see in different areas. The first issue includes all the variants that have emerged. The second is the wave of “precautions” that different places/businesses will start taking upon themselves to impose.
We’ve already started seeing this trend, with CBC News recently reporting on a local Yoga studio in Regina that will start requiring proof of vaccination from patrons before allowing them access to class. I’ve read a couple of different articles on this very yoga studio, with the comments including a variety of praise and criticism from people who read about it. It raises the question about whether or not this will become the new state of normal, with the world re-opening. Certainly, some methods of travel will start requiring proof of vaccination in order to cross borders and some retail locations may choose to continue to require the wearing of a face mask within their locations or even begin asking for proof of vaccination, as well.
It will lead to an increased rift within our populations, with the folks who have been vaccinated blaming the continued spread of COVID-19 to those who haven’t been and a not-so-silent social division is already beginning to take place. It’s rough waters to navigate and definitely unfortunate, considering how long we’ve all stayed away from one another and disconnected from the world as a whole. It would be nice if the world come together with a united front and share in overcoming this thing that’s plagued us for the past year and half. There are interesting times ahead. And that isn’t always necessarily a good thing. āÆ
The title is a Star Wars reference, for my followers who donāt find themselves quite as immersed as I am in science fiction and reading. To frame the reference, the Sith are the antagonists of the Star Wars series. They are the polar opposites (in most respects) to the Jedi and typically use intense emotion and anger as a means of amplifying their powers. The series focuses on the Jedi being the good guys and how anger is a bad thingā¦. Although I agree that HATE is a bad thing, as is also premised in the series, anger has its place and can even be a useful tool when applied in the proper context.
Letās start by examining what anger truly isā¦. Simply defined, it means having strong, intense feelings of annoyance or hostility towards a person or thing that can often result in a violent or negatively-emotional response. This can be caused by something emotionally significant or perhaps something as simple as being cut off in traffic. That aspect that many people tend to lose sight of, is that a feeling of anger isnāt always necessarily related to the immediate instance that we believe prompted the emotion and may be a symptom of something bigger and/or previous. The immediate moment may simply be the proverbial straw that breaks the camelās back. But I digressā¦
Anger is an emotion. An normal emotion that everyone experiences throughout the course of their lives. If youāve ever heard someone say, āI donāt get angryā theyāre either lying to you or themselves. Maybe they feel anger but simply have coping mechanisms that allow them to keep from externalizing it. That may be a good thing. It can also be a recipe for disaster, depending on oneās specific ability to handle their anger.
Anger can be a great motivator, especially in fitness circles or in making and accomplishing oneās goals. If you use your anger as a source of fuel, it can help push you beyond what you might have done, otherwise. A good example I can provide is when one is using a punching bag. Thereās no arguing the fact that youāll punch harder and longer on the bag if youāre absolutely fuming about something. This is kind of the scenario Iām referring to.
The other side of the coin is dealing with a level of anger that can result in a violent result. This is something that must avoided, fo the obvious reasons. The punching bag is another great example as it can be a fantastic outlet for venting that angry energy. Meditation can work for some, but i know people who hit that āpoint of no returnā and simply lack the means to control their anger. And thatās an important aspect to discern; the difference between controlling and finding an outlet for oneās anger or trying to suppress it or ignore it. The former can be constructive and healthy. The latter eventually becomes a problem. āÆļø
It dawns on me that I havenāt written a post on something martial arts related in a fair little while, so I thought to myself, āWhy not do some venting?ā In all seriousness, Iāve had some instances in my personal and professional life where karate was a useful tool and got me out of some sticky spots. The problem with such incidents, is that I canāt necessarily discuss the āprofessionalā ones and the āpersonalā ones are usually embarrassing. In all honesty, thereās no real way to tell a fight story that doesnāt make you come out sounding as though you either got your ass kicked or youāre bragging about kicking someone elseās ass. I donāt like either scenario, so Iāll simply provide that every fight Iāve ever been involved in was initiated by the other party, was unavoidable and was in the defence of myself or others. With that in mind, here are some thoughts on those fights, the comments that were made and the presumptions people have about martial artsā¦
For the most part, I donāt discuss my karate training with someone unless I know them and am comfortable with them. You may be asking how I can make that claim, since Iām writing a post that all my followers and anyone who stumbles across my blog can read and recognize that I study karate? Well, itās a blog about Buddhism and martial arts so, what do you expect? But outside of this digital arena, I donāt go around advertising my skills or training. And in recent years, Iāve even started to avoid wearing anything with my dojoās insigniaās or logos outside the house. The reason for that is quite simple: there are those who just want to watch the world burn and will seek to challenge someone claiming to be trained in a fighting art. And thatās where this point comes in.to play.
In 2005, I was out with a few friends at a local club. I use the term āclubā quite loosely. Iāve been to Halifax and Ottawa and have had the opportunity to experience actual night clubs that are comparable to some of the ones one might see in the movies. But the BAR from my home town that fancied itself as a club was pretty much the only location of its kind for a couple of hours in any direction. So they had the option of taking liberties with how they referred to themselves. Somehow, a dark, poorly-lit space with stained and damp carpeting, coupled with a flat 10-foot by 10-foot space of vinyl tile as a dance floor just doesnāt scream ānight clubā to me. That location no longer exists, so I can allow myself to be critical. But I digressā¦
Like most people in the area, it was one of the only locations that a person could go in order to socialize (as much as socialization can happen with loud music playing). But if you wanted an adult beverage mixed with some company, this was the place to go. But when you cram a couple of hundred people into a confined space, load them up with alcohol and loud music, it has the potential to be a recipe for disaster. But, I was in my 20ās, I was single ands I had nowhere else to go on a Saturday night. I had gone out with two of my friends; one who worked with me and one who actually did karate with me. We got some drinks and relaxed by chatting and people watching.
At some point in the evening, my friend and I (the work friend, not the karate friend) were leaning on a section of the bar and chatting, when what I will simply call a āyoung ladyā walked over to us. For some reason that to this day I canāt explain, she started in on me. She accused me of grabbing her backside as I walked past her earlier. My friend and I both laughed until we realized she was totally serious. Not only was this a ridiculous accusation as Iād be the last person to ever do something of that nature, it was also impossible as my friends and I had walked in, bought our drinks and leaned at the bar. The karate friend was off somewhere trying to pick up (a common, albeit unsuccessful hobby of his), but my other friend and I hadnāt moved since we had arrived.
I basically wrote off her comments and told her to leave us alone as all we were trying to do was have a nice evening and that I wasnāt the guy she was looking for. She took offence, claimed it was me while pointing out my clothing (I was wearing a black t-shirt) but walked away. I thought the matter was closed until we noticed her talking to a couple of guys in an agitated manner and pointing at us! Never one to willingly walk into a fight, I told my friend that maybe this would be a one-drink night and that we should vacate the premises. He agreed. I couldnāt find the karate friend, so we headed outside where we could decide what weād do next (this was before cell phones were a common thing). We decided the best thing would be to wander down the street to the nearest sandwich shop and grab a snack.
As we started walking down the street, the door of the club opened and closed a couple of times. Not an unusual occurrence, but given the situation we had dealt with inside, I cautiously turned and looked over my shoulder. Some may call it coincidence, some would call it providence but I looked over my should just in time to see two guys moving quickly to catch up with us. I turned just in time for the first guy to take a wide hook-punch towards my head. Given the slow, telegraphed nature of his punch, there was plenty of time for me to block and deliver a single punch that staggered my attacker and sent him to the ground, holding his mouth and moaning in pain.
I stood there, shaking out the throbbing pain in my fist and staring at the second guy. I asked him if we were done. He stared in disbelief at his cohort sprawled on the sidewalk, helped him to his feet and returned to the club. My fist was killing me and I was hankering for some ice. My friend appeared to be in shock and hadnāt fully absorbed what had just happened. My karate friend conveniently stepped outside at that point, angry at us for having left without him. We carried on to the sandwich shop.
Once we were there and my work friend finally had his adrenaline dump and was getting some food into his system, he asked me the same question that many if not most people have asked, who have seen something like this happen in real life: āThatās it? I thought youād do something fancierā¦ā. The important thing to point out is that a threat presented itself, I responded and stopped the threat and then stopped myself.
Thereās a common misconception, and I blame cinema and television for this, that someone who practices and studies the martial arts will always do some high-flying, flowery move when using their skills. Martial arts is complicated and convoluted on its face, but its application is intended to be ANYTHING but complicated and fancy. Muscle memory is key, as it allows a practitioner to defend themselves in the moment, without the need for prior preparation or warning. Without that training, the individual in question may have reached me and injured me before I ever had the opportunity to defend myself. Depending on what their end game was, it could have led to more than simple injury.
So hereās what the non-practitioner needs to know about the practical application of martial arts skills:
– Itāl Be Quick: Unlike what you see on screen, fights rarely last more than 30 seconds to a couple of minutes. Fighting is exhausting and takes a lot out of you. Even with adrenaline coursing through oneās system, street fights often end with one participant or the other being struck and stopping, or both parties exhausted and breathing hard. Boxer and professional fighters train ad nauseam to be able to last the length of time that they do in the ring. But even they get to take a rest every few minutes; – Itāll Be Simple: No, I wonāt spin around with both my feet flying off the ground, my body wonāt be spinning in place and there wonāt be a fancy, high-flying technique where I strike my opponent ten times before they have the time to fall to the ground. Defending oneself needs to be a simple and straightforward as possible. There isnāt time to try anything out-of-this-world and attempting to do so will give your opponent the time to harm you; – Itāll Hurt You As Well: Even if the stars align and you manage to evade the opponentās attack and deliver some strikes of your own, donāt expect that youāll walk away without injury. If I take the scenario above as an example, I managed to defend myself and stop the threat against my friend and I. But not without my fist throbbing like a bastard. Even though I punched properly and didnāt sprain my wrist and didnāt have my fingers loose or any of those common mistakes, Knuckles are made of bone. The guyās face is plated in bone. Bone on bone hurts. No matter the nature of the fight, winning doesnāt mean youāll be pain and injury-free.
Iāve had a number of people, over the years, ask me about situations like this and wonder why I didnāt do something more substantial or complicated. The important thing to remember is that when defending oneself, all that matters is coming out safe. Not looking good doing it. And that usually requires keeping things quick and simple. Donāt be fooled by everything you see on the television. It looks cool and nice on the big screen, but rarely does this apply to real life in an actual fight situation. āÆļø
I didnāt even know what to categorize this post under. Basically, I flagged it as an āopinion,ā but itās honestly just me ranting about a current, ongoing situation. Maybe I need to create a new category for my posts. Maybe I need to stop digressing so damn much and just get to the point. (Deep, cleansing breath). Focusā¦. Alright, here we goā¦
Owning a vehicle is a very particular experience. For most folks, itās an early sign of freedom. Nothing quite like the feel of getting behind the wheel and driving off to see your friends on a Friday night. Light knows, I certainly couldnāt get enough of driving my car when I was a teenager. granted, my car meant so much to me because I actually purchased my own car when I was sixteen. Not everyone is able to do this and are often relegated to using mom and dadās car, but itās fun nonetheless.
As we grow into adulthood, having a vehicle becomes more of a necessity and less of a luxury. And less fun. And costly. Man, is it costlyā¦. I remember that the āfunā aspect started to disappear when I began using my car to drive to college. Then into adulthood, it was about driving to my job or running errands. It became a tool for daily life as opposed to a source of enjoyment (although it still hasnāt stopped me from belting out the tunes and singing along with them as I drive).
Much as it is with many things in modern life, vehicles are no longer made to last for extended periods of time. In fact, many brand new vehicles will be driven off the lot with defects, recalls and faulty parts that will usually need to be serviced within the first little while that one owns the vehicle. But that reality aside, repairs and maintenance can become expensive; sometimes more expensive than the vehicle itself.
You may be asking yourself, why is he bringing this up? Well, Iām glad you asked that question. the easy answer is because itās my blog and I can write about whatever I want. The more complicated answer is whatās to follow. You see, for the first time in my life Iāve found myself in a position where Iāve been able to completely pay off my vehicle. Maybe not the first time. I purchased my first car for cash. It was a 1986 Toyota Terkel hatchback. horrible fuckinā car. I loved it. Anyway. Moving onā¦
Since I recently paid out the loan on my current vehicle, which only happens to be six years old, I was quite happy. In the Maritimes, vehicles tend to die out much sooner than they do out here in the Prairies. This is because the salty sea air tends to play hell on metal. I think the longest I ever recall my parents owning a vehicle was ten years. It was a silver Chevette. My wife and I toyed with the idea of upgrading and purchasing something new. Ultimately, we decided it would be nice to spend the next few years WITHOUT vehicle payments to deal with. But I as Iāve often said, life rarely cares about oneās plans. And things can/will happen to throw a wrench into things (pun fully intended).
Almost to the day that I paid out my vehicleās loan, I began hearing a strange sound as i drove. If youāve ever seen Back to the Future, wellā¦ start by watching Back to the Future because itās a great movie. but if youāve ever seen the movie, youād remember the familiar whine of the Delorean as it accelerated. Thatās kind of what my vehicle sounded like, but off without the cool ability to time travel. It started getting worse as the days followed and it actually started to become difficult to steer. Thatās never a god thing, so I brought it in to a local repair shop.
The diagnosis was that the hose leading from the power steering pump was ruptured and I was losing fluid, which is why it was difficult to steer. They replaced the hose, topped up some fluid and I was on my way. I was warned that there may be some residual sound on the days that followed as air bubbles worked their way out of the new hose and out of the pump. Fair enough. I went on my merry way for the next couple of days without a concern. Minus the several hundred dollars in deposits, of course.
A few days later, I started to hear another sound. Although similar to the first one, it had a distinctively different tone. This one was almost metal on metal and there was an odd smell when Iād back into my parking spot. Although a bit difficult to describe, Iād say it was a combination of wet rust and an unclean aquarium. You know the ones, with the overgrowth of algae growing on the glass? Yeah, like that. I contacted the garage and arranged to have my vehicle dropped off for yet another servicing.
This time, it turned out that my break pads and rotors needed to be changed out. The grinding metal sound I was hearing was because one of the rear break pads had worn down enough that it broke up into pieces and were scrambling around in there. No problem, easy fix. At least in theory. Over a thousand dollars later, Iām back on the road and the vehicle sounds fine. Alright. Whew. Expensive and annoying, but itās done, right? Life laughed at me as it was FAR from done with my vehicleā¦
My wife had ordered some books from a local bookstore and we decided that she should take a couple of hours for herself and drive out to run a couple of personal errands. I was at home with the two boys, trying to control the torrent of kid-energy flooding my house. I failed, but that isnāt what this post is about. I get a phone call from my wife indicating that she had blown out a tire. On one of the busiest bypass highways in the city. It was basically dinner time, with most auto repair locations closing up shop for the day. My wife and I scrambled and worked together to find her a tow truck to attend her location and a repair shop that wold accept a drop-off. The same location that performed the previous two repairs agreed to have me drop off my vehicle and they would look at it first thing the following morning.
I should likely point out that they had been closed for nearly half an hour when I called. They still answered the phone AND agreed to look at my vehicle despite having their scheduling software shut down and being unable to confirm the following daysā availability. Sometimes, loyalty pays offā¦. I had to grab a bus to work the following morning but by lunch time, they had replaced the tire and explained that a defect caused a slow leak, which resulted in the sidewall giving out due to the vehicleās weight and caused the blow out. Alright. I drive off.
A few days later, my car starts making Marty McFly sounds againā¦. I seriously wish I was kidding, but I canāt make this shit up! I decided to change things up and try a different garage based on a colleagueās recommendation. After explaining what was happening and what the sound was, the thought was that although they had replaced the power steering hose and topped up the fluid, enough air may have gotten into the pump to burn it out. This would be why the issue seems to be resurfacing. As I publish this post, the car is being serviced for that very issue.
Hey, I love my SUV. Itās a great family vehicle and itās travelled across the country to New Brunswick on two separate trips, carts my boys around and is super handy for errands where I have to pick up large amounts of stuff. Like groceries to feed my two little piggies. But, MAN is vehicle ownership expensive. At some point, you have to wonder if one is better off dealing with the cost of repairs or simply sucking it up and upgrading to a new vehicle. āÆļø
Once in a while, I like to throw out a little something that isnāt long-winded and requires a whole bunch of researching and discussion. I can pretty wordy at the best of times (I can hear the grinding of everyoneās eyes rolling at once), so itās nice to just take a day to let oneās head cool and post something simple. In that light, I found this image online a few nights ago and it resonated with me. So I thought Iād share it. Enjoy!
I canāt remember where I found the image; Iām certain if you Google Morgan Harper Nichols, youāll find it. Sheās a musician and writer and the words in this quote resonate with me on a particular level. One of my biggest pet-peeves with life, is when someone says, āIt could be worseā¦ā. If I use my Diabetes as an example, Iāve frequently had people comment that it could be worse as I could have something immediately terminal.
Although this thought is accurate, it COULD be worse, it doesnāt mean that my particular condition isnāt BAD and that my journey isnāt made all the more difficult as a result. This is where empathy comes in. We donāt always know or understand how another person will deal with the situation theyāre in. After all, a splinter in your finger may be trifling in nature. But I can guarantee that to a small child, it can be the worst pain of their life. Itās all about perspective. Not strength. Food for thoughtā¦ āÆļø
Weāve likely all been there at some point in our livesā¦. Young, energetic and full of piss & vinegar. Most teenagers are filled with energy levels that adults are envious of, despite the fact that they have a tendency to somehow hide that energy while sleeping in a classroom. But I digressā¦. When I was in my teens, my biggest problem was my uncontrolled blood sugars. THAT aspect will perhaps be a topic for tomorrowās post. But like most teenagers, I was filled with repressed energy, angst and a competitive drive. Typically, this energy is expended through various means, such as playing in team sports. Since I was never a team sports āguy,ā I didnāt have this outlet. No, noā¦ instead, I was the karate guy. And when two ākarate guysā get together to expend some of that pent-up aggression, no good can come of it. Todayās post is a few short stories of just such occasions.
The 1990ās were a strange time for me. I was growing as a martial artist and as a person. I was a bit of a black sheep among my peers, since I wasnāt into cars or sports. I spoke to the majority of my time in the dojo or on my bike. When I wasnāt doing that, I was indulging in a guilty pleasure that I still enjoy today: action movies. You all know my opinion on the so-called action heroes who use martial arts on the big screen. It looks good, it evokes those happy-happy-joy-joy āI like seeing shit blow upā feelings, but they rarely represent a realistic portrayal of martial arts. But theyāre no less fun to watch, despite that fact.
In 1997, I was bouncing between living at home and in an apartment in the neighbouring town for college classes. During a particular weekend at home, my friend (Iāll call him āGuyā) and I went to see Mortal Kombat: Annihilation, which had just recently come to theatres. This was the follow-up sequel to Mortal Kombat, which had come out in theatres a couple of years prior to that. As a fan of the video game (who wasnāt?) I was excited to see the original. The sequel fell short. In case my sarcasm isnāt clear enough, it sucked. It definitely wasnāt up to par with the original, but it still involved a number of fight scenes that left Guy and I loaded with adrenaline on the way home.
Interesting side note about Guy: heās my Senseiās son. And heās been training in Okinawan karate for longer than I have. Can anyone guess where THIS is going? We pulled into Guyās driveway, where my vehicle was parked. We both stepped out of the vehicle and came around to the rear bumper, where we stood about ten feet apart and looked at each other with a grin. It was almost like one of those traditional Kung fu moviesā¦. There was silence in the air, a light powdering of snow was falling and we squared off against each other with fists clenched and smiles on our faces. In an instant twitch of reflex, we closed the gap and the fight was on! We both threw attacks and blocks simultaneously and fought semi-contact, until we fell to the ground in a match of grappling that would have been suitable for inside the dojo, albeit not for the bare asphalt of the street.
Now, Guy used to live on a pretty secluded side street of our home town. Secluded enough that traffic was rare and one could sit there for hours without seeing another person or vehicle. But Murphyās Law, right? As weāre rolling around on the ground, laughing and punching each other, we hear the telltale whine of brake pads, right next to our heads. We look up to see the head of a buffalo, staring right at us. A police officer, specifically RCMP, had rolled up next to us and came to a stop. We both jumped to our feet, dusted ourselves off and smiled at the officer. He looked at both of us and asked, āIs there a problem here, guys?ā We calmly explained that Guy lived on the house behind us, the red car was mine and we had just come from watching Mortal Kombat. We were both karate students and just blowing off some steam. The officer smiled, shook his head and slowly pulled away while mumbling, āTeenage hormonesā¦ā
This would only be the first of many instances that Guy and I would āplayā with our martial arts training. There was a time in the early 2000ās, when I traveled to Quebec City with the girl I was dating. She had never met Guy, but he lived in Montreal at the time. When he heard I was coming to Quebec, he convinced me to meet him in a diner off the highway, just prior to crossing the bridge into the city. We collected the girlās sister, and the four of us had breakfast at this diner, where Guy was able to exude his usual charm as they got to know him. It went reasonably well, with guy and I telling stories about how we met, how we grew up and some of the shenanigans weād gotten into. One would think that what was coming could be guessedā¦
As we all walked towards our respective vehicles, Guy was walking slightly ahead of us. As he walked, he let out a small sigh, started removing his watch and putting it into his coat pocket. I knew what was coming, so I took off my watch as well, and handed it as well as my insulin pen, to the girl I was dating and whispered, āHold this!ā Guy removed his coat and tossed it towards the rear fin of his car (he drove a Saturn coupe). All eyes besides mine were drawn to the coat and as soon as it touched the rear of the vehicle, Guy spun around with a roundhouse kick that would have removed my head, had I not known it was coming. The girls screeched and backed away, visibly confused by the sudden and unexpected combat situation that was playing out before them. It only took a moment for them to realize that Guy and I were both laughing as we sparred, despite some of our techniques actually connecting. The people passing on the highway didnāt have the benefit of hearing us laugh, and we drew quite a few stares from passing motorists. No cops, this time.
The next two incidents took place in the early 2000ās as well. Yes, the next twoā¦. Keep reading, these are hilarious! I was renting a house in the City of Moncton and Guy was ironically living there as well while he pursued his college diploma. This meant that we had the opportunity to hang out a fair bit. One evening, we were all hanging out in my backyard, having a few drinks and chatting. Remember reading a previous post where I explained why I never drink to get intoxicated? And the story about how I could have injured someone? With Guy in the picture, times that by a factor of ten. We got called out by some of the people who were there, asking us to demonstrate our karate. Although neither of us were interested in doing so, we reluctantly got up and squared off on the back lawn. We both had a few drinks in us, and I thought I would have a clear advantage. I was wrong.
As soon as the match started, Guy threw a flurry of kicks at me that staggered me easily. After a few moments, I got tired of his damn legs reaching me so easily so, in my drunken haze, did the only thing I could think of: I dove for his knees. It seemed like a good idea, right up until the moment that his fist connected with the back of my skull. The next clear memory is being inside my house, sprawled on my bed. I remember thinking that I hadnāt drank enough to have passed out. Then, I remembered the punch. I got up and walked to the bathroom and was faced with an image I didnāt recognize as my face. My head was pounding, I was covered in dirt and mud and I had a welt on my left cheek accompanied by a dried trickle of blood at the corner of my mouth.
To provide some context, my back yard had a lawn, but it was also a bit muddy. A later recounting of the story by an observer provided that when I dove for Guyās knees, he swung down towards my head, thinking I would block or dodge. I did NOT block or dodge. The strike basically face-planted me in the mud, which caused the welt and bloody mouth. Since everyone was having a āgoodā time, they brought me into the house and put me in my bed. Idiots. Lucky I didnāt have a concussion. Of course, it was my fault for agreeing to it in the first place, I guess.
The last instance took place only a short while later, while we both still lived in Moncton. Yes, I promise this is the last one. Guy and I were watching a movie at his apartment. And you guessed it: it was an action movie. When the movie was done, he walked towards the back door of the apartment I would be leaving from. I already anticipated what would be coming, but I had been suffering from a pretty bad cold at the time and was in no mood to fight. I explained this fact to Guy, who responded by removing his watch and bringing his fists up to a fighting position. I sighed and positioned myself accordingly.
Just to set the scene, this was a small apartment that had a walk-in kitchen with countertops lining both sides. At the far end was Guyās dining table, which Guy was standing in front of. Still with me? Good. I m uttered all my speed and strength, hoping to make this quick. Oh, it was quick all right. Guy not only blocked my punch but spun around behind me and delivered the sole of his foot to the back of my head. The kick, combined with my own forward momentum, sent me rolling right under his kitchen table. He grabbed his watch, strapped it back on and said, āGreat movie, thanks for coming over,ā and went back to the couch as I groaned, unceremoniously collected myself off the floor and walked out. Brotherly love, am I right?
The interesting part is that we did grow up as brothers. Sensei essentially raised me, with all the time I spent in the dojo when I wasnāt in school. And itās no secret that siblings will often wrestle or fight when given the chance. It just hits a whole other level when it involves two black belts. Although this post was merely intended as a feel good story to share some memories, something Iāve been doing in spades lately, I think it also illustrates a few important points. We always had fun with our karate. Our skills were sharp, we trained hard. But we also played hard. And we loved it. Some of you are probably thinking, āYour skills donāt SOUND all that sharp,ā considering I always seemed to be on the receiving end of a beating when sparring with Guy. hey, what do you expect from the first-born son of a Sensei?
But the next important point is that no matter how hard you train and develop yourself, thereās always the potential for someone else to be more skilled than you. This can be important, especially in the mindset of defending yourself or someone else. Itās important to continue with oneās training and development. This isnāt something that ever stops. But it doesnāt mean you canāt have a bit fun along the way. Food for thoughtā¦. I hoped you enjoyed the stories as much as I enjoyed walking down a painful memory lane. āÆļø
Louis Armstrong once said, “Music is life itself.” I don’t know if I would go THAT far, especially since if I had to choose between music and karate, I’d still go with karate. That being said, music has always played a big role in my life. I’m one of those folks who can be influenced by a song simply by hearing it. An upbeat song will have me bopping along and singing at the top of my voice while passing drivers look on in awe at the crazy guy in the suit whose cheese appears to be sliding off his cracker. On the other hand, hearing certain ballads will remind me of sad memories, make me maudlin or even tear up, if the song is right.
I’ve owned at least one guitar since I was sixteen (at one point, I had four) but I’ve never put the amount of effort into it that I could have or should have. Once again, this came down to a choice between focusing on music or karate. Since karate was keeping me healthy and well… alive, I opted for karate. But believe it or not, there was a time when music was a pivotal part of my daily life, where I would listen to music, try to strum along and singing became common place for me. In high school, I tried doing the whole “band” thing, but the able participants weren’t willing ones and we never really got it off the ground.
When I went away to college, I actually had the opportunity to sing for a few guys that played at college events and a few venues. I actually performed in front of several hundred people, making the introvert inside scream in fear, but it definitely contributed to why I can speak in public with relative ease and comfort. I currently own two guitars; an acoustic that my late aunt left me, which she autographed for me before her passing and an electric Les Paul style guitar that my wife bought me as an engagement gift.
“Music And Rhythm Find Their Way Into The Secret Places Of The Soul…”
– Plato
I bring up the subject of music because, as I mentioned in an earlier post, I had the opportunity to have a Zoom meeting with the group of friends I hung out with during my formative years. It was an amazing feeling but I was reminded of some amazing music, as well. That’s why I’ve decided to share the playlist we came up with in this post. This will seem like a long post, but it relatively short in terms of reading. Whether or not you watch the YouTube videos is up to you. Let’s take a nostalgic journey…
“Too Much Love Will Kill You” – Queen
Who doesn’t recognize and appreciate the incredible vocals of Freddy Mercury? I only discovered Queen by virtue of having watched “Wayne’s World,” which came out in 1992. But this song holds a special place in my heart as, after purchasing the cassette tape (yes, you read that right, it was on tape) my friend Leon and I crooned along to that one song to the point that we basically burned out the tape. We even recorded ourselves singing it, using the lyrics sheet inside the cassette case. We didn’t have Google to supply us with such things, back then.
“In The Meantime” – Spacehog
I owe the discovery of this song to my friend Leon. This was a tape of his that he brought along and slapped into my shitty car’s tape deck. I always felt the opening riffs stirred something in the soul. My Sensei’s son and I actually tried learning this on the guitar, back when we were young and stupid. Moving on…
“Tonite Is A Wonderful Time” – April Wine
Where do I even start with this group? April Wine holds a special place in my heart, for a variety of reasons. Other than the fact that they’re from the Maritimes like I am, I was introduced to their music as a child by my father. I grew up listening to them in every iteration; on the radio, on 8-tracks, cassette tapes and later on CD’s. I’ve even seen them perform in concert on three separate occasions. Although none of their songs are bad, this one has been singled out as reminding some of my high school friends of me.
“The Sign” – Ace of Base
Ahh, Ace of Base… If this doesn’t scream 90’s teen years, I don’t know what does. They have a pretty pure and simple sound and although many of their songs start to sound the same after a few listens, you can’t help but nod your head and croon along. This song, along with “It’s A Beautiful Life,” definitely graced the inside of my Toyota Tercel on more occasions than I can recall.
“No Rain” – Blind Melon
This one is particular because I actually learned how to play this one on the guitar. I had a fellow blogger suggest that I film myself playing and upload it on The Blogging Buddhist’s YouTube page, but the amount of rust on my fingers could put a derelict ship to shame. But I may get there.
“Saturday Night” – Whigfield
I have no shame in admitting that this one was a guilty pleasure that was often indulged in, especially on the weekends when there was nothing to do but cruise up and down the main drag in my shitty car with the windows down, waving at all the girls that somehow knew from a distance that I simply wasn’t cool. Que sera… It’s catchy, it’s feel-good and it holds up. I regret nothing!
“Bohemian Rhapsody” – Queen
Anyone who doesn’t understand why this song is on here is lying to themselves. Fight me! Seriously though, I drove a 1987 Toyota Tercel hatchback that struck an eery resemblance to Garth’s hatchback in Wayne’s World (except in color). Ergo, we nicknamed my Tercel “The Mirth Mobile.” And what would a cruise in the Mirth mobile be, without a batch of people head banging the way they did in the movie.
“I’d Do Anything For Love” – Meatloaf
This album came out while I was in high school and I grew to have an appreciation for Meatloaf’s theatrical efforts for his videos. The song was quite popular, but I was already into Meatloaf, thanks to “Bat Out Of Hell.” I remember thinking how foolish everyone was to “suddenly” discover this artist, but as I look back, I don’t think there’s ever really a bad time to discover great music. Same on teenage me…
“Wonderwall” – Oasis
Oasis is a great band with a great sound to them, some of which are feel-good tracks and some kinda have you reflecting on life. I drove some of my friends crazy with this one, because the opening strum is what I originally tried learning the guitar with. And I. Was. Not. Good. I improved with time, and the song totally stands up. Which leads to the next one…
“Don’t Look Back In Anger” – Oasis
From the same album, this one is a direct reminder of my childhood and teen years and the tone makes me a little sad, despite being a fantastic song. The old gang didn’t include this one in our exchanges, I simply love it.
“Hands In My Pocket” – Alanis Morissette
Alanis Morissette’s album “Jagged Little Pill” pretty much oozes 1990’s teen years. I always found that people always either really enjoyed her music or absolutely hated it. I had the album on CD and still have it now as part of my iTunes library/
“What’s Up?” – 4 Non Blondes
This is an absolutely wonderful song, and is only a few simple chords, making it fun and easy to strum along to. Although I can’t quite hit the high notes of the artist, I’ve played it on couple of occasions recently. Even my son Nathan croons along with it when it comes on in the car, proving that it totally stands up, even decades later.
“Tubthumping” – Chumbawumba
If someone can tell me what the hell the term “Tubthumping” is supposed to mean, I’d greatly appreciate it. My autocorrect is losing it’s shit, right now. On the flip side, the band calls itself Chumbawumba, so what am I expecting? this song is pure, unadulterated joy. That is all. Simple, repetitive lyrics, I’ve yet to meet a person who’s able to resist singing along at the top of their lungs to this tune, and I’m no exception.
“Crash” – The Primitives
I know that not everyone is a Jim Carey fan, but I loved “Dumb and Dumber” and can still get a laugh from watching it. this song was part of its soundtrack and still totally stands up. I know I’m saying that about a lot of these songs, but I’m pretty biased. It’s upbeat and fun, and usually results in my using the gas peddle a little more than I should.
“Summer of ’69” – Bryan Adams
Everyone in the world knows this song. Prove me wrong. And you can’t, because if you didn’t recognize it and played the video, now you know it! See what I did, there? Bryan Adams was a household name all throughout my childhood, teens and into my adulthood. This song always elicited happy feelings and had me purchase every Bryan Adams album I could get my hands on. I’ve learned some of his songs on the guitar. I had my first real slow dance to one of his songs. He’s timeless.
“Iris” – Goo Goo Dolls
Last but certainly not in any way least, is this song. Featured as part of the soundtrack for the movie “City of Angels,” (one of Nicholas Cage’s only good movies) Goo Goo Dolls have a very unique sound, especially with the fact that their songs always have some strange tunings that i can never seem to match. But most of their songs are equally as good. I currently own their greatest hits album, and listen to it often.
There you have it! The soundtrack of my youth. There’s plenty more, but I can only spend so much time linking YouTube videos in a single post. As I said in the beginning, this post seems long, but if you’ve just read the paragraphs because you already know the songs, it’s no longer than any of my usual posts. Hopefully, this will have helped remind some of you of a simpler time in your youth, as well. āÆ
July 1st starts out nicely; a quiet breakfast of hash and bacon at he table, kids are watching some froo-froo nonsensical bullshit on Netflix and my wife and I are getting some caffeine into our systems before making any attempt at dealing with the day. After a brief round of dishes and cleaning up, everyone dons their Canada Day t-shirts and steps outside to enjoy some of the sunshine before temperatures reach an unsafe and/or intolerable level.
That doesn’t take long… Temperatures are already on the high 20’s and climbing with a completely clear sky offering no respite from the direct light of the Sun. Don’t get me wrong; I’m not the type to complain about summer weather. Especially since I hate the freezing cold and especially the snow. Winter wonderland, my ass! But the summer, although enjoyable, brings it own set of difficulties as it relates to proper health and fitness. Especially if you’re part of a family primarily composed of people with the redheaded gene, fair skin and all.
My fam-jam, in all our UV-absorbing glory!
I could spout the usual rhetoric about needing to cover up, wear a proper amount of sunscreen and stay hydrated. You know, the stuff all of you have had shoved down your throats since childhood. This is a good reminder though, as the summer heat can catch up to you quickly. Even SPF30 will do, even if it means slathering some on more often. Keep a reusable water bottle around and sip from it consistently. And no, beer or other alcoholic beverages don’t count towards your hydration (as much as I occasionally like to think so.
If you have Type-1 Diabetes, you should be aware that the summer heat will cause unexpected increases in blood sugars. If “A” leads to “B” and “B” leads to “C,” then by the transitive property, “A” eventually leads to “C.” What this means is, the extreme heat will cause dehydration. Dehydration leads to higher blood sugars. Ergo, extreme summer heat leads to higher blood sugars. Did I just make that way more complicated than it needed to be? Meinh, who cares! I understand myself, which is what’s important. Not everyone can say as much…
The summer rays will cause all sorts of other issues, such as affecting blood pressure, flushing, dizziness and the potential for heat stroke. Anything and everything affects a Type-1 Diabetic’s blood sugar levels, so it’s important to be prepared for summer conditions. If you’re travelling, camping or performing outdoor sports or exercise, be sure to keep your testing equipment nearby, drink/have plenty of fluids available (including electrolytes) and keep in mind that your Diabetes equipment won’t like extreme temperatures, so you may deal with malfunctioning equipment.
If you’ve Diabetes for any length of time measured in years, you’ll have survived through some summers and will likely already be aware of all this stuff. The important thing to remember is that having Diabetes doesn’t prevent you from enjoying the summer. One need only be prepared and deal with the potential issues that will accompany your condition. Our Canada Day was pretty quiet. We had mushroom burgers, spend a short period of time outside and did some work. The boys lost their minds over the plethora of bubbles created by their bubble machine, followed by naps and watching Spiderman: Into The Spider-verse. Definitely worse ways to spend a day off…āÆ
I’m a firm believer in karma and its effect on the world in general. That being said, I don’t know if this was karma in action, but it’s sure worth a laugh. This story comes from last week, when I was having lunch at work. My office sits on the fifth floor of one of the taller buildings in Regina, and it overlooks the eastern side of the city. It’s a nice view, albeit hotter than Hades during the early hours of the morning when the Sun blasts its rays directly into my space.
Anyway, I was sitting in my office enjoying a quiet lunch and doing some light reading. I get an hour for lunch but I rarely sit for more than thirty minutes. I’m quirky like that. Actually, I just have a hard time sitting still so I usually don’t take the full hour. The point is that on this particular day, I was reading a chapter and munching away when a loud thump against my window snapped me out of it. I looked up to see a pigeon sitting on the window sill, shaking its head. I laughed a bit, realizing the poor bastard must have flown across from the parkade and dove into my window.
Actual photo of the pigeon in question
I was busy laughing and decided to snap the photo you see above. Apparently, my little avian friend took offence to my laughter and photographing his misfortune. He slowly turned his backside against my window and proceeded to eject a thin stream of pigeon crap onto my window. All the while, maintaining eye contact with me… I kid you not. My laughter stopped abruptly as I saw it happen, which was followed by the pigeon turning himself fully towards my window and affording me a final glance before drifting off into the skies.
My office windows aren’t clean on the best of days (summer has just kicked in and window cleaning on the office buildings is only just beginning) but this liquid hell just added to the rustic “unclean” look of my windows. So the important questions is this: was it coincidence? Or did this bird dispense some smelly, karmic justice against me for laughing at its misfortune? You be the judge. I just thought it was funny how it all went down. What can I say? It can’t all be deep and metaphysical! Sometimes, you just gotta take the laugh when you can get it. āÆ
July 1st, 1867 marks the date that my country was founded as Canada. Less than a decade after that, Sir John A. McDonald, Prime Minister of Canada would create the North-West Mounted Police. Our country would grow and progress in the century that followed, including some positive and some negative. As with all things in life. There’s been a lot of negative press about our country in recent weeks and I won’t get into any of that, since I think the press, mainstream media and certain groups have done an adequate job of providing the negative side of our country’s history.
No matter what side of the equation you fall on or what aspect of the propaganda you believe, there’s no denying that Canada is the best fucking country in the world. And yes, I’m totally biased because this is MY home and native land. Although there have been dark stains on our history, show me a country where that hasn’t been the case. I could list what each and every modern country did to establish itself. But I’m not here to start I fight. I just felt that today would be a good day to express what my country means to me. Maybe you’ll agree with some of it.
I first learned our country’s national anthem when I was 4 years old. I didn’t need Shazam to tell me what it was and I didn’t have to Google the lyrics. I learned the fucking lyrics myself and was proud of them. I grew up understanding and appreciating the fact that I had liberties and freedoms that brave men like my grandfather left their families to ensure. We have health care and and resources that most countries don’t. We’re viewed as progressive and peaceful.
Our landscape is unlike any other in the world. We have the Arctic Ocean to the North, which touches the top of the world. We have the Pacific Ocean to the West and the Atlantic Ocean to the East. We have the longest existing border with our neighbouring country, in the world. We also have the longest natural sandbar in the world, which is ironically located outside my hometown of Dalhousie, New Brunswick. We have Appalachians, Rockies and the Great Lakes. We have some of the most beautiful landscapes and scenic attractions in the world.
Canada gave birth to the man who created insulin, Sir Frederick Banting. If not for that very fact, I wouldn’t be alive today. Nor would the 463 million people, worldwide. Canada is responsible for the invention of basketball, hockey and Tim Hortons. This country has made more contributions to the world that can be measured. This is what should be recognized today. The rest of the year can be for everything else. But let today be about pride in our country and how far we’ve come. I thought I’d close out this post by sharing a YouTube clip of the CBC end-of-day clip that used to play when I’d fall asleep in front of the television as a child. āÆ
The Blogging Buddhist 