“Tell ’em, ‘Boola-boola.‘”
– Gary Busey, The Buddy Holly Story
So, the WOTV has done left up outta here. Attending to her filial obligations in the great flat and sandy state of Florida.
Leaving me to my own devices.
So far, my devices have been cleaning the house, pacing, and competing in an action pistol match this morning. Tonight I’m going to watch the fights with my buddy, and tomorrow we’re going to train with the SWAT team.
Yay, shooting! Yay fighting! Yay, more shooting!
I know, I know.
But I cain’t hep mysef.
You seek a great fortune, you three who are now in chains.
You will find a fortune, though it will not be the one you seek.
But first… first you must travel a long and difficult road,
a road fraught with peril.
Mm-hmm. You shall see thangs, wonderful to tell.
You shall see a… a cow… on the roof of a cotton house, ha.
And, oh, so many startlements.
I cannot tell you how long this road shall be,
but fear not the obstacles in your path,
for fate has vouchsafed your reward.
Though the road may wind, yea,
your hearts grow weary,
still shall ye follow them,
even unto your salvation.
– Lee Weaver as Blind Seer
And big props to my brother, the brave and tough one in the family, for completing his first century ride, one hundred miles from Cayucos to the Piedras Blancas Lighthouse and back. Next month he’s back in the ring for his first fight since his last knee surgery which sidelined him for a year. He’s fighting at 165, twenty pounds lighter than he usually fights.
The kid looks damn good, I tell you what.
I never met his equal for doing the hard work. Since he was seven years old I don’t believe he’s taken a day off from training. Boxing, Jits, Krav-Maga, Muy Thai, Kickboxing. Triathlons, open water swims, adventure races, kayaking, windsurfing, surfingsurfing, paddle board, you name it, he’s done it. While carrying a boulder in his arms. And shooting. Carbine, long rifle, shotgun, handgun.
He’s the best man I know.
He’s got no quit in him. I’ve seen him blow out his knee in a SWAT competition and just wrap that bitch up in duct tape and keep going for five more events. When he was in the Marines in boot camp he broke an ankle jumping off a high platform into a sand pit, then he broke his other one trying not to land on the one he broke first when he jumped again.
I never said he was smart.
But he is smart. And tough. And the most easy-going, laid back motherfucker.
Way to go, bro.
I did a restorative yoga practice last night, and I’ll go again tonight. Every night for the next few weeks, see if I can establish a bit of a practice.
I liked it pretty good. It seems like just laying down and breathing, like meditation. Only comfortable.
I like doing things that when you’ve done them, you know something has changed.
I’ll keep you posted.
Damn, we went to Suchada for some Thai massage while we were in the city?
Holy Twisted Spines, Batman!
Those ladies just disassemble the fuck out of you and when they put you back together you function in a whole new way. They are like the quantum physicists of the massage world. They do not exist on any ordinary plane of reality.
And they have the strength of ten ordinary men.
I’m telling you, you ever get the chance, plunk down a hundred bucks and have one of these wizzards walk all over you, work your shoulders with their knees and twist you up like a washrag, wring you out and hang you out to dry.
You think it wasn’t worth it, I’ll go your hundred for you.
Damn I miss that woman. I know she’s doing what’s necessary and I don’t begrudge her doing it at all. I admire her for it, point of fact.
I do miss her.
We supposed to be together, man.