Just In Time For Christmas...

Jenn's toxicology report from the medical examiner's office in Oklahoma finally came in last week.

Rather than give answers, it really just poses more questions ; questions that have no answers.

So I'm not sure what to make of it. I just know I'm sad and I think about her. I think about her a lot and wonder if I shouldn't be doing something more meaningful or fulfilling with my life. Death has a way of doing that.

Right Now

I sit here in my mini cube for the very small with my tylenol sinus medication barely stemming the tide of snot out of my left nostril and the tears out of my left eye. I sit and test videos and microsites and media players and all is good. I drink tons of water. I wail in dismay at the crappy CSS the CMS here puts out and then I wipe my nose and my eye and get some water and start again.

It Christmas time. That means I must be sick as hell. Three years running now. WTF?!

"Yaaaay" [Monty Python's Holy Grail Minstrel's apathetic celebratory voice]

Ow My Foot Redux

I'm home in bed right now with my left foot up on two pillows and an ice pack sitting on my foot and hydrocodone coursing through my veins.

The reason? Well, last night during BJJ I was doing some stand up work with our instructor, Marcio Santos and attempted to throw him. He countered, like I knew he would, and I tried to counter the counter, but in doing so he came down with his leg onto my foot in such a way as to cause my toes to touch my heel.

Same foot. Toes. Heel. Touch.

I screamed like a little bitch. Haaaaaaarrgh Haarrrrrgh! Harrrrghhhhh! Ahhhhhh!

The folks at the school were great about it. They got my foot up, iced it and generally tried to take care of me. One of the guys at the school that night is an orthopedic surgeon and he checked me out and gave an unofficial diagnosis of no break. And, the official call from the x-rays is no break, just one hell of a sprain. Amazing. I cannot believe I didn't break anything. I caught a ride from Marcio to Grand Central and Terry (a friend of mine from the school) was nice enough to walk me to the train.

Clarisa could not pick me up from the train. She got hit by a drunk driver last night. Thank God there was no real damage to her or to the car -- it could have been so much worse - like he could have not tapped her but made it down the road a bit and wiped out a family or something.

So - once again I am forced to take a hiatus from BJJ, but when I come back Marcio said he would help me get caught up and offer me private lessons. I thought that was a nice gesture on his part. That's one of the reasons I love this school - the guys doing the training from Marcio and Marcos down to Andres and Rene are all great people with a strong sense of compassion and decency.

All right then, the hydrocodone is really kicking in now and I need to stop and lie down. Oy...

The New Commute

Hey there Internet, I just finished up my first week at my new job at Healthology in NYC. The commute's been pretty good, what with a 35 min train ride and a 15 min walk. Of course, it does not compare to the 5 minute drive I used to have to Westcon. That, my friends, was cherry. But, in the eternal quest to possibly put money in the bank - I took the job in NYC and the commute with it.

So far so good. Of course I am the new guy and going through the normal new guy process of getting to know everyone and how the place works and what my job really entails day to day but soon enough I'll fit right in. Overall I am pleased - the people seem as nice as they did during the interview and I seem to have the autonomy I want.

On Tuesday and Thursday I went to Jiu Jitsu. Marcos is in Brazil for the holidays, so his brother Marcio is teaching in his absence. Marcio tends to kill you during the "warm up" which is really a workout in itself before we do any techniques, but that's a good thing. Tuesday is a gi day and Thursday is no gi, so on Thursday we did some more stand up techniques and worked on take downs most of the class and then rolled for a bit. My legs are not used to the stand up work (lots of lunging a la a fencer) so they are still thrashed two days later. Argh. Can you say "Your ass is getting old?" I knew that you could. Anyhow, both days I got crushed on the mat and tapped out a LOT more than usual against guys I usually do reasonably well against. Just not myself for whatever reason, but its all good because you tend to learn a lot when you lose.

On Friday we had a real piece of work on the train. Some Ratty Guy was passed out on the aisle seat of a triple seat and the train was filling up and people were trying to wake him up to get by him. Its bad enough when the guy is passed out, but this guy was passed out and wearing Bose noice reducing headphones. Its like being in a cone of silence with those things on. Needless to say, no one could wake his ass, but one intrepid commuter decided to just go right over the guy. Hell, if he doesn't wake up for the big shove on the shoulder he got, scooching by should be no problem. So our intrepid commuter gets in there and takes the window seat to distance himself a whole foot and a half away from our Ratty Guy. That might be comfortable distance if the person in the next seat over was a normal commuter...

Ratty Guy proceeds to snore. Not just a little snore. We are on a train here, remember, not a Japanese bullet train of speed and silence, but an MTA train of noise and the noise coming out of ratty guy sounds like a piece of the train is loose and about to come off. It was a snore of puissance and no amount of shoving the guy would stop it. That's right, the fellow commuters were shoving this guy around to get his head repositioned to stop the feral snore.

So that was bad enough, but then the guy starts to cough and each time he coughs a wad of phlegm came flying out and hit the back of the seat in front of him and lord knows where else. He has the PLAGUE I thought. And everyone on the train at that point around the ratty guy tried to shrink away as best they could and get out of the three foot range of his nasty exhalations. Argh.

Ratty guy with his unshaven face and unkempt hair and hideous skin and grimy track suit finally woke up and went and puked between the cars. We know this because he told us so. And then, at our stop the guy gets off and while we are all in our pre get off the train formation, he starts to chat up a lithsome lawyer in front of him. She was soooo polite as he kinda hit on her and chatted about his daddy. Yes ratty guy seemed to have a wealthy daddy that kept him in his Bose headsets. Needless to say, I hope he is not a regular on that train.

Ok Internet - I am off to see the parentals and visit with Jenn for a bit. Peace.

Looking downtown from outside my office. That's Herald Square and Macy's right ahead.
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Ahh, pretty leaves. This is my Sunday Morning with Charles Kuralt picture. Imagine the leaves gently blowing...imagine the crisp fall air...imagine the SOB that almost ran me over in our complex as I tried to take this shot. WTF is with people? They race through here like its LeMans. Ok - so anyway, back to the photo....ahhh leaves. Breathe in and out. There ya go...
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Marie with her 20+ lb turkey. It was an excellent, tasty bird with just the right amount of tryptophan to knock us all out until the Seinfeld special came on.
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Mugging it up outside of Eileen & Tommy's place in Hensonville on Black Friday. Screw going to the mall at 5:30AM. What's wrong with us that we do that!? Not ones to give in to ramant consumerism we slept until 11 and Eileen made breakfast for everyone. Of course their ain't crap around there for shopping, but that's beside the point.
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Thanksgiving

Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

We are about to head out the door and make the trek upstate to my aunt Marie's place for a bit of the ol' face stuffing. Marie is hosting this year because my parents flew out earlier this week to pick up Jenn's car in Oklahoma City and drive it back. Not being road warriors anymore, the trek is going to take a few days. Last I heard from them they were in Louisville, Kentucky and going to head to Churchill Downs the next day. I hope the weather held up for them. So, its a change of venue and no parents and no Jenn for Thanksgiving. When I think of that I can't help but be sad.

However, at the same time I'm sad, I am so very grateful to be alive relatively problem free. Sure I battle with depression and mood swings and have endured crappy jobs, but never to the extent that she had to deal with. Sure a lot of it she brought on herself, but a hell of a lot just happened. Its amazing - there is bad luck and then there was Jenn luck. She went through a lot and I often wondered what type of future lay in store for her, given her back condition. Would she have to be in a wheel chair at 32? I wonder if she thought that too. We never brought it up when we talked.

Anyhoo - I guess I am going to be writing about Jenn here for a while, but life does go on and I will try to write about other things, perhaps more satirical things as has been suggested. So with that in mind here is a quick update on things...

I got a new job! My last day at Westcon was yesterday and I start on 11/29/2004 as Healthology's new QA Analyst. Basically, I am going to be responsible for testing all of their products and making sure they are up to spec. It's in NYC on 36th and Broadway and just a block away from my Jiu Jitsu school. It pays gobs more money and is well worth the commute. I'm excited but have a little nervousness going on too. Its normal I guess. Overall though, I am just very proud and excited to have a new opportunity and look forward to the time where my bank account is INCREASING. Like HOLY SHIT - THERE IS MONEY IN THERE! Heh.

Talk about perspective...

My sister, Jenn, is dead. I still can't get my head around it.

I'm eight years older than Jenn, so growing up it seemed like I was always in one phase of life and she was in another. We were separated by age, but always really close. Whenever we did get together we always picked right up where we left off. We were comfortable together. She was funny, pretty and like I wrote, has a sense of compassion beyond her years. There were lots of times she gave her big brother a shoulder to lean on, and I hope I gave as good as I got from her. Sometimes I wonder.

I always thought that we would have time together later on, that the age difference would close and we would find each other, finally together fighting the good fight as adults trying to make it in the world. Hell -- even my aborted foray into the culinary world was partly based on her influence. She just loved cooking so much that she got me interested in it. I wanted to see what the buzz was about so to speak and once I got into it, I found that we really shared the same passion. A part of me even envied her opportunity to do what she loved and get paid for it. How rare is that.

It was great to have her stay with us when she was doing her externally with the CIA. While she was really busy, we still got to hang out a lot together and just BS and chat. She was at the Westchester Country Club doing baking and pastry work and some line cooking and really moving and grooving. When she was around, she was always cooking and the place always smelled delicious. I have a letter from the owner of the Westchester Country Club commending her and the rest of the team for turning out and serving great food during a blackout. That's the culinary world for you. You get it done. You kick ass. And Jenn did. However -- things turned bad when her back condition just got worse and worse under the stress of the work. One day she fell (sometimes she could not feel her left leg) and they told her not to come back until she was well.

She opted for surgery, which seemed to help when she recovered, but not much. She also got an epidural after that which did not help at all.

The thing is with the CIA externships -- you need to complete 18 continuous weeks. You do 17 and 6 days and you stop for some reason? Do it all over again. So Jenn went to to it all over again but this time at the Mohonk Mountain House in New Paltz. Again, she was moving and grooving but she hurt her back again and decided that she just could not go through this again and that despite it being her dream, she had to try and do something else. At the time I agreed with her and advocated it. Why prolong the agony? Cut your losses and move on. We all thought that was the best route. In retrospect, I made it too practical. While the advice was, maybe on the surface, sound, I don't think any of us did enough to talk to her about how bad it made her feel. I mean we knew how bad it made her feel, so why bring it up and make it worse?

After the CIA she took on too much. Classes during the day, working at IBM in a clean room all night and hardly getting any sleep. And she moved out and got an apartment because she felt weird about living at home. She seemed to think that there was a stigma attached to it. These days there isn't really -- but if you feel a certain way about things, that's the way you feel and its hard to change that.

As for how she died.... we are not sure yet. The short of it is that its medication related - possibly an adverse interaction, but that's just speculation at this point till we get the toxicology report. Till then we wait.

For Jenn

I never thought I would write this for you.

I love you and am eternally grateful for every second that we had together. God Bless You.

Jennifer Marie Kitcher OKLAHOMA CITY, OKLA. - Jennifer Marie Kitcher, 27, beloved daughter, sister and niece, died in her sleep on Wednesday, Oct. 13, 2004 at her home in Oklahoma City. She was born at Vassar Brothers Hospital in Poughkeepsie on June 29, 1977, the second child of James and Sylvia Kitcher.

A gregarious, loving, free spirited person with a sense of compassion beyond her years, Jennifer brought joy to the lives she touched. She lived, loved and felt intensely and was at her best when she could help someone.

She grew up in Poughkeepsie, surrounded by friends and family that loved her. She attended Spackenkill schools. An active youth and sports fan, she enjoyed watching football and basketball and played tennis for Spackenkill High School. From 1997 through part of 2000, Jenn lived in the Nashville area of Tennessee. Within those three years, she discovered her talent and passion for baking. The culinary arts challenged her and offered a perfect way for her to express her creativity.

In mid-2000, Jenn returned to Poughkeepsie for better work and to apply to the Culinary Institute of America. When she returned to Poughkeepsie, Jenn threw herself into her work at the Pastry Garden and at the Sugar and Spice Bakery/Cafe. In 2002, she was accepted to the Culinary Institute of America's baking and pastry program, where she excelled. Her studies at the CIA were interrupted by the onset of an intolerable degenerative back condition.

Undeterred, she sought a fresh start in Oklahoma to work as an assistant pastry instructor at Platt Community College in Oklahoma City.

Her friends and family will lovingly miss her. She is survived by her parents, Jim and Sylvia; her brother, James and his wife, Clarisa; her niece, Mary; and her half-sister, Mary Alice and her husband, Michael. Also mourning her loss are her aunts and uncles and their families: Marie Mitchell, George and Barbara Kitcher, Eileen and Tommy Carberry, Joan and John White, Ann and Jim Killian, Maureen McGurl and Mark Willensky. She will also be dearly missed by her close friends, Michelle, Christy and Mark.

Oh my God, Jenn, I miss you. I love you and I miss you so much. How did it ever come to this...

No hurricanes this vacation, thanks

Back on September 13th, Clarisa and I were supposed to be catching a plane to FL and starting our Universal Studios / Islands of Adventure vacation. That was about the same time Charley was engulfing Florida. As early as Thursday night our flight was canceled and we called Priceline asking for some help canceling our trip. Maybe their help desk is in India or something, because they sure did not seem to hurricane aware. To make a short story shorter - they refunded our money but we were out a trip.

Not wanting to stay home we looked at each other and said -- what the hell lets go to CA and see your relatives. So we did just that and about 10 minutes after having no vacation trip we were booked to fly out to Sacramento where we would get our rental car and drive the 150 + miles to Redding, CA where we would be staying and seeing her relatives.

Overall the trip was great. I got to ride a quad up near Mt. Lassen, raced some crazy remote controled all terrain buggies and trucks and got to know my relatives a bit better.

Hey A New Post

Its been too long between posts. Blah Blah etc etc. Yeah Yeah.

On the mat:

• Hey now! I busted my cherry and got my first tap out. Yeah, the guy was a little newer than me, and yeah, the guy was a little smaller -- but hell, after getting my @$$ kicked all the time I will take it. It was a nice north south choke. In another match I had a great double leg takedown on a blue belt but left my head exposed on the landing and wound up getting cranked and tapped out right when I was thinking "Things are going really well here..." LOL. Experience tends to win and I am still waaaay short on that.
• My buddy Dennis was brave enough to roll with me in his backyard last weekend. If I can bait him with cool rashguards to wear, I might get him to train regularly. Actually, he could not be baited, but he does have a weakness for rashguards. Hey if nothing else, he could wear one clubbing maybe. BrazilianFightWear.com if you're interested, Den.
• My biceps are still killing me. Not just my right arm now, though that one is worse, but both arms. They start to ache during training and it gets really bad right after and then dissipates in about 3 hours. The doctor wants to perform surgery and reattach my biceps tendon to my right shoulder. The thing is, the injury he saw on the MRI is ancient and I went through basic training with that, mountain biked with it, lifted with it, did Aikido with it. You get the idea, it did not bother me at all. Maybe all of a sudden it does? But both arms? Second opinion time. No slicey slicey for me. Time for WebMD and maybe a visit to an Acupuncturist.

On the homefront:

• My sister is struggling. Financially, mentally and physically. Here's to her deciding to help herself. And - here's to my parents getting some peace of mind finally when she does.
• Had a great dinner with my Uncle Mark last night. It was nice talking to him one on one and just getting to know him a little better. Granted, I've known the guy for many years but we've always met at family holiday things and there's always distractions. This was different because we talked. It wasn't just bitching about something, or the weather or me rambling about video games or something else that only I find interesting. We covered family, politics, jobs and hopes and dreams. And while I thought the world of him before, I love thy guy even more now. All because I made a little effort and picked up the phone. Its amazing how easy it is to NOT do that. Relationships die that way. Like cars, they need maintenance.
• BTW The restaurant was a nice little Italian place on 34th St. between Park and Lex called Villa Bruella. Try it.

Lies and Comets

A while back, I actually applied for culinary school. A fit of frustration and depression drove me to finally complete the application to the French Culinary Institute. I'd been thinking about doing something like that since before I left Enterprise. I'd dismissed it though - crappy hours, big pay cut, etc etc. There were always enough excuses not to do it. One day in late April or early May - they did not seem so big. What was 28K for tuition? Peanuts! What was trying to finagle out of work early a few days a week in order to go to class -- no big deal!! It could be done.

So I apply online, send in my application and a non-refundable deposite of $500 because I am serious dammit. I start talking to people at the schook, getting uniforms, a start date, got to get my financial aid stuff going. So, to take care of the paper work part of things I need to drive down into the city. I bail out of work at 4pm and 20 minuntes later I am at the Triborough bridge in a full panic saying to myself what the hell am I doing what am I doing -- I can't do this!! This is nuts! You get the idea. Of course, our ecommerce systems at work shitting the bed, and my boss calling me telling me I need to get back did not help matters. So I wind up turning around, my tail between my legs and a career change aborted.

At least my therapist seems to think I made the right decision.

So here's the lie part - I tell my friend Dennis that I had to come back to work and that my boss had called me and screamed at me and that I just had to go back to work and that I did not see how I could go through with this and still work. That part was true, but I hid the panic attack from him - and a few other people. So, this weekend we got together and were having some nosh at Perkins, dining on some killer pancakes and ruminating on our lives. I'm not sure how we got around to it, but I brought up the fact that I had freaked out and turned around -- totally having forgotten my lie. Den, having a memory of an elephant, remembered and said, "I thought your boss called and you had to go back."

For a second I was flying toward my mental closet where my tap shoes are and thought better of it. "Well yeah. He did call. But I didn't have to go back. I freaked out."

Den's single response about it was, "Ah, so you've been trying to play the tough guy." and that was it. Its good to have friends that understand you, even when you don't understand yourself.

But lies -- they come back like comets man. You forget about 'em and they come back. When you are honest, you never have to remember anything and you never lose credibility. Some people I know haven't caught onto that yet, and if they told me the sky was blue I would have to look outside to check. And I hope they get the help they need, but they have to want it.

Ow My Foot. Ow My Shoulder.

Went to a BJJ seminar at the NYC Machado Dojo this past Saturday. The special guest instructor was Helio Soneca from the Gracie Barra in TN. What a powerhouse guy. Small, but waaay slippery, way strong and extremely talented. More than all that though, a great personality and enthusiasm for what he does shone through. Its contagious.

On the one day that I went, we trained without a gi and divided our time between muay thai kickboxing at first and then ground techniques. We rolled for two hours straight.

Unfortunately, I hurt my arm / shoulder from the repetition of one move where I got rolled again and again on my right shoulder. By the end of class my arm was aching from the top of my shoulder to my hand.

In a freak accident on Monday, I reaggravated it. But again, with ice and elevation the pain went away and I went to class on Tuesday. That was a mistake. Again by the end of class my arm was killing me worse than it did on Saturday. Throw in some numbness in my hands and there you have it. Owee.

So I get on the train. Its packed so I have to stand and I about pass out from the pain and or the naproxen I took right after class. Everything was going on me and I just sat down and I got my vision and hearing back. Of course I had had to throw a guys bag in his lap to get the seat -- SOB would not let me sit down. I was said "Move your fucking bag or I am going to pass out right on you." He must have thought I was crazy because he looked at me and looked away. That's when I tossed his bag. Screw him.

So Weds I go to the doctors, and of course there is no pain, again, and all of his moving me around produces no pain. I told him, it only hurts when it hurts, and even then, it does not hurt to touch my arm or shoulder. Pain just radiates down my arm and its weak.

Its really weird.

Suffice it to say no BJJ class for me today. Decided that discretion is definitely the better part of valor. Going tonight would have just meant another visit to the pain factory and I've been on that tour twice this week. That's enough for me. Hopefully the doc gets back to me soon with an OK for an MRI or some sort of diagnosis so I know how to treat this. Here's to it just going away and me being in class again on Tuesday.

Action Pack for FrontPage Available at Amazon.

My good friend, Dennis Derobertis, the owner and creator of Office Power and D2Stuff, got a small measure of satisfaction the other day when his cousin called him and told him his Action Pack for FrontPage software was actually in stock at Amazon.

He's developed the software, designed the packaging, got the CD's pressed and packaged and got a distributor. He got his product listed on Amazon, but with a label of "out of stock or discontinued on it." All he needed was someone to make some phone calls and get a case sent to Ingram or some numbers entered in some inventory DB for the product to be listed as something people thought they could actually buy.

Whatever it was my buddy agonized for 1.5 yrs waiting for that final step to happen. I hope its not too late and that maybe some sort of relationship can be created between FrontPage and his product - one of those "in addition to" recommendations on Amazon might do a lot to drive business.

Anyhow, I am happy for him and sad because the cavalry is arriving a little late. :-(

If you use FrontPage to any sort of web work at all, check out his products at D2Stuff.com. They are big time savers and well worth the cost. And of course, check out the ActionPack.

Rolling baby yeah.

Yesterday, I got to "roll" (lingo for sparring / freestyle) for the first time. Of course, I didn't do very well at all. Oh, sure there was a glimmer of hope here and there where I got a dominant position or had a good choke or arm lock for a little bit, but my more experienced partner got out of each of them and submitted me a bunch of times - mostly with arm bars. Its to be expected and I don't feel bad about it one bit. Like golf, those few techniques that I managed to pull off are enough to jazz me up and encourage me to come back and try again. What was really cool in a way is that I pushed myself harder than I have pushed myself since I left the Army way back in the day -- to the point where my whole body just kind of gave out. I'd forgotten how fast you can run out of gas, juice, energy or whatever you want to call it, but when it happens its like someone pulled a plug on you - everything just melts.

So today, Advil is my friend. Tomorrow, the school is hosting a seminar by Helio Gracie, followed up by a party. Since I'm so new, I'm not sure how much I'll be able to absorb, but when you have the opportunity to meet a master and learn from him, I figure its a good idea to do it.

Quick aside about the train ride home yesterday. Usually, its a quiet affair with the train packed with people that work late. Just normal worker folk. A few folks here and there might have a beer or two on the way back to unwind, but its casual and no one gets out of hand. Not last night though. Some mid 50's balding slightly overweight corporate guy had gotten himself falling down drunk. I'm not even sure how the hell he managed to walk to the train. He could not or would not pay his fare and kept passing out. Rather than risk confrontation, the conductor just shrugged it off and let him sit there. As we approached our stop at White Plains, the guy tried to get up and promptly crashed to the ground. He struggled up, fell down again. At this point some guy was trying to get him back to his seat - telling him to sit down and take it easy. The drunk guy was waving keys around - so I guess he though he was going to just cruise home. Talk about a homicide waiting to happen. Ultimately the guy refused any sort of help, the cops were called and picked him up at the train station. What happened after that, I have no idea.

I wonder what made him get that way and if it was a good time or maybe he had gotten a call from his wife telling him she had left him for the pool boy she had been banging for the past six months. Who knows. What I do know is that winding up in jail is generally on the "don't want to do that" list.

Lost Time. Lost Keys.

I could not find my keys for the past couple of days. About five minutes ago, I found them, right where I left them outside on our deck. However, for the life of me I could not remember that until very recently.

Memory is a funny thing. We block things. Forget things. Remember things. And we do so all for myriad reasons that I don't think we understand for the most part. The ability to suppress and the ability to recall memories are very powerful tools and ones we wield blindly, driven by circumstance and mindset. Sometimes its a survival mechanism (suppressing) but forgetting shit -- well that can just be dangerous.

While I may or may not have suppressed memories (don't ask me what ahahhaa) I've always been forgetful. Its not bad like it used to be when I was a kid and would lose my head if it was not attached, but bad enough to be a pain in the butt and bad enough for me to stop doing something few people ever even get a chance to do - fly helos for the Army.

I know people think I left my gig flying helicopters in the Army because of my marriage. While the two of us had our own troubles right off the bat, it had nothing to do with me deciding to leave flight school. The reason I left is that I did not want to kill anyone by making a mistake I felt was inevitable.

I would just forget things flying instruments. I'd forget which way the wind was blowing and make my initial holding pattern turn wrong. I'd forget if I had made that turn at a marker, etc. It never happened enough that I failed a flight or failed a checkride. But it happened enough to make me sick to my stomach as I flew. It affected my confidence and I could not help but wonder what would happen if I forgot in combat or forgot with other lives on the line.

Does that sound like a copout? To some maybe it does. But I tell you what, I'm sure some Sgt. in Iraq would be happy to know I lost my keys and not his life.

One of the keys to not being forgetful is mindfulness. I've been working on that lately as part of my interest in Buddhism. Its something you always work on I guess, but its helped me realize the importance of the inconsequential. Everything is important. Nothing is important. Just pay attention!!!

Martial Arts Redux: Brazilian Jiu Jitsu

Last week I joined a Jiu Jitsu club - NYC Machado Jiu Jitsu, the the official East Coast representative of the Machado brothers and the premier Brazilian Jiu Jitsu academy in Manhattan. Overall, the tone and attitude of the school is professional yet relaxed and humble. The bit of informality is refreshing and not something I saw when I took Tae Kwon Do or Aikido.

I've been to four classes so far and I know I am going to love this more than I ever did Aikido or Tae Kwon Do or Judo. The instruction by Prof. Marcos is fantastic. He is very knowledgable, patient and concerned about his students. The other lead instructor, Marcos' brother, Marcio, carries himself in the same way. The one assitant instructor I have met, Rene, is also a great guy. In other words, its a fantastic environment to learn one of the more effective arts out there. Its a family and I look forward to becoming a part of it.

Its funny how you can just feel comfortable somewhere and with certain people. Instantly, you feel accepted and welcomed and like that you can fit in. In my younger years, I certainly learned what it was like to not feel accepted. So, when I get such a positive vibe from a place or a person, I really appreciate it.

Travel wise, its easy to get there - just a short 30min train ride from White Plains to Grand Central and a 10 minute walk to the school. Its cool to get down into the city again, even just for a little bit and get to soak up the energy down there. I get to see the Empire State Building, Chrysler Building, Grand Central and the New York Public Library on my short walk and the lighing at 5pm in June in NYC just makes everything look better.

Why Brazilian Jiu Jitsu (BJJ)? Why not go back to Tae Kwon Do or Aikido. Well, for one thing I'd seen first hand how effective BJJ could be in the Ultimate Fighting Championship (UFC) and later on in Pride. All the really good strikers -- people skilled in kicking and punching got eaten alive by grapplers. The attitude of most traditional martial arts is also a bit backward for me. At Fordham, they used to teach their students to spar with their lead arm up, exposing their ribs "to present a target" for their partner. Those were the same guys that I looked forward to fighting back in 1988 at the WTA National Tournament at West Point. It was too easy. Of course, as fate has it I wind up at Fordham and suffering through their classes. I was actually told not to go after brown belts (as a purple belt) very hard because I needed to show them respect. I was like -- WHAT?!!? Oy. Suffice it to say that my time at Fordham Tae Kwon Do was short lived. Too much attitude, not enough skill.

Aikido is super, but its a very difficult art to learn. I suppose from a self defense perspective you could master a move or two for all the different types of attacks in a realatively short time, but then getting them to work in a combat situation with a person not the same size you are used to is again --- difficult. Nothing against Aikido, I love it and respect it but I am looking for something that is a better workout and trains closely to what a street fight situation might be like. That's the benefit of BJJ, you train against people struggling very hard, and you do so on the ground where most fights wind up by chance or by design. Get a great workout, lose weight, get in shape and learn to defend yourself. Sounds good to me.

Naturally, when I told my mother about this she was a little apprehensive. She was asking if it was like Tae Kwon Do. I told her it was more like wrestling. Of course, her mind lept immediately to people jumping off of ring ropes and hitting each other with chairs and all things WWE. Oy. After that I could not really get her to grasp the idea of it. Oh well, in the meantime she can think I am donning a mask and cape and calling myself the "Masked Maruader". Sheesh.

Weight: 204 Resting Pulse: 73

James Draws For A Bit.

I went through a drawing phase a few months ago. Its stock paper and pencil and the model is from a Polo print ad. I don't have a scanner (ack) so I took a picture of it. Later on I colorized it in Photoshop. I had to "cheat" a little bit to get the proportions of the head right, but what the heck, I drew this for me and I am ok with it.

The drawing phases never tend to last too long. Usually its in some attempt to recover some part of my youth that I think I need back. If it gets really intense I start thinking of trying to go back to art school, get a career in advertising and so forth -- but the reality of it the money and the time are not really there. And neither is the drive or I suppose I would be drawing everyday. I like to dabble though. So, dabble I do. Pick things up, put em down is the way I seem to work.


Posted by Hello

The colorized version done in Photoshop.
Posted by Hello

Westcon Haiku

Being a systems analyst at Westcon is a lot like working for the fire department. You need to stay prepared, stay aware and just wait wait wait for something to go wrong. Inevitably, something always does. So, in the spirit of making dealing with tickets a bit more palatable, a few of us here have taken to writing and including haiku in or about our ticket responses. Without further adieu, here are a few:

tickets are like fish
for they have no sense of time
they will still wait there


Notes will not open.
Tickets are there waiting now.
They will wait longer.


Patiently I wait.
Tick Tock Tick Tock its Friday
my home beckons me



"I click the button
The page it is not there now
I will shop elsewhere"



I cannot log in
The problem is not my own
ticket needs new home

Kitch Starts A Blog

Well here we are. Trendy trendy.

Trendy indeed.