photoriffic

I apologize for what this is going to do to page load times but I’m planning to put a lot of photos up on site over the next few days. It’s my page and I can stroke my own ego if I like. Plus I just had my first “showing” on friday and I wanted to share some of the goodness.

But before I do that, happy birthday’s go out to two friends. Happy birthday Heather and Aaron… keep livin’ large my friend!

a morass of balls …

after the high drama of yesterday’s entry I thought I’d switch to a little romantic comedy (and anything involving romance and me is usually comic… usually black). Things have been going really well with Drea (aka Dre aka Dr. Dre aka Andrea). Last night we realized it’s been four months since we started seeing each other. Funny, seems like it’s been both a lot shorter and longer at the same time.

So how did we meet, you ask. Well, it was at a bar… now wait, before you imagine me in my fine polyester suit, rockin’ a line like: “baby are those mirrors on your clothes ‘cause I can see myself all over you…” it wasn’t like that. I was in the process of reconnecting with some friends after the Ives shows and on a whim I gave my friend Clayton a call. He invited me out to see a band called “Red Drum.” “Red Drum,” I thought, “that’s got to be cool play on the Shining. You know: Redrum! Redrum!” No they just had a big red drum.

Actually I almost didn’t go. Really. But I thought it made more sense to go then sit bored at home. Drea was in the same boat, a friend of a friend of Clayton’s out for the night. I got to the bar and there she was. I’m not sure what it was about her, but I was immediately smitten.

Where did the title of this blog come from you ask? Well that night, just after I got there everyone was playing pool and, in response to the lay of the table, Drea said: “Wow, that’s a morass of balls.” That really caught my attention. I mean how many people can work “morass” into a sentence without batting an eye (I know, I’m weird), so I had to comment. And with that, we began to talk and didn’t stop until it was time to go. Of course part of that might have been a vain attempt to drown out Red Drum, which turned out to be a mediocre at best bluegrass cover band (Van Morrison and Somewhere Over the Rainbow are not meant to be covered bluegrass style… AC\DC however is a-okay).

When it was time to go I asked if I could call her (basically I said “We have way too much in common not to talk again.”). Two days later on Sunday I got up the nerve to call. Unfortunately while waiting to leave a message on her machine, call interrupting… er waiting struck. That beep threw me off, as I wasn’t sure if it was for call waiting or for her answering machine. So it took a few moments for me to realize once her machine started to record. Then it occurred to me that it had been recording for a bit and I was leaving a “breathing on the answering machine message.” Now even more flustered, I managed to stammer something out about who I was and that she should call me before the machine hung up on me. I considered calling back, but having seen Swingers, I knew nothing good would come of that.

But surprise, she called back. And the rest, as they say, is modern history.

the story of my drive home from boston

as alluded to in yesterday’s blog, I had a scary experience on my drive back from Boston. I’m sorta at a point where I feel comfortable writing about it, so here goes: The drive itself isn’t too difficult, it’s about six and a half hours of thruway driving. However, even on the thruway things happen that are beyond your control. About four and a half hours in, outside of Rome NY, we (and when I write “we” I mean myself and everyone on that section of the thruway) were hit by a torrential downpour. We’re talking biblical proportions.

Side Note:What I have never been able to understand, and this time was no different, are the people who don’t slow down to a safe speed under these conditions. And based on this experience, I will never again push my luck in adverse weather.

In that rain came across a fresh accident. A van had overturned on the center median, and was resting on the driver’s side windshield. It was clear it had happened moments before I got there. Since I had a car phone I immediately pulled over and called 911. Having made a rescue call like this before, I knew I needed to have a mile marker to speed things up. I got out of my car in the driving rain to see if I could spot one in the zero visibility weather.

The two people in the van seemed all right, though it was clear that the one man needed to be cut out of it. A person at the scene was able to provide me with a mile marker. I started to calm people down and get folks mobilized. Just as things seemed stabilized, it happened: Another car veered out of control into the median and hit one of the onlookers over the median and almost into oncoming traffic. As I write this I’m still not sure if I actually saw this happen. I know that I heard the tires squeal, the crash, and saw the man lying on the ground just feet away from the opposite lane.

I wish I could write I jumped into action. I didn’t. There was a lot of screaming from the people around me. As for me it took me a moment to process what had happened and realize that I was still on the phone with 911. I remember watching as the gentleman tried to scramble back from the traffic. Then, I was back in control, communicating the second accident to the operator, while hoping over the median to help pull this man away from the oncoming cars. And all the while I was praying that a car didn’t lose control on that side and hit both of us.

When I got to the gentleman he had already put some space between him and the traffic (thank God). One look and it was clear that the impact had dislocated, if not broken his right knee. His left shoulder also looked like it was out of the socket and he was bleeding from his nose and mouth. I got him calmed down and started to treat him for shock.

Thankfully, a DEC State Trooper pulled over to the accident scene. Additionally, a girl, who appeared from rather another vehicle, was a lifeguard and had first aid training. She took over for me as I check on the people in the second crash (who were fine) and ran back to see if anyone had anything to keep the man warm. By this point, the man’s wife, who had been traveling with him, made her way over to be with her husband.After a long ten minutes, state troopers and paramedics appeared on the scene. By that point the lifeguard had done a terrific job of stabilizing the man. I gave the wife my cell phone to make calls.

Within forty-five minutes I was back on the road, soaked to the bone and shaken from the experience. I left my phone and address with the woman; she needed them far more than I did. I couldn’t help but think what would have happened if the car had hit him three feet further. I was angry with myself for not reacting faster. Also for hesitating out of fear of being hit. I was also upset that I didn’t immediately have him lower his head in order to maintain the flow of blood (I had been more interested in getting him to calm down and not try to stand and hadn’t even thought of it). But I also know that I had done a lot of good and helped keep everyone at the scene calm until the troopers showed up.

More than anything else, I couldn’t help but see everything around me as fragile. I’ve had many reminders of that in my life; of how quickly things can change in a moment. These days we all have. I didn’t need another one. I wish I could say at the time it made me feel special about things. How everything is important. It didn’t. Instead every car I saw was a threat to my getting home. Every moment was fleeting, ready to be taken from me in a single violent action. With a few days perspective that view has faded. I accept this is something that we all live with, fair or not. And we all know it isn’t fair.

One thing is for sure; I’m upgrading the supply kit I keep in my car (I didn’t have any flares with me). I had planned to make that Mark, James and myself (at the least) all take the Red Cross First Aid and CPR courses as part of opening the Martial Arts School opened. Now there’s no question in my mind that needs to happen.

[Author’s note: I’ve been staring at this for a bit, trying to figure out how to end it and I can’t. There’s no major revelation, no earth shattering change to my life (other than to drive more carefully and defensively). I got to witness a bad situation turn worse. I thankfully got to see someone get very lucky (in a relative sense). I guess I’m the better for it. I don’t feel that way. I hope everything turned out ok for everyone involved. I hope I get my phone back. That’s about it.]

this and that

I’m back from a long weekend. I was off first in Portsmith, New Hampshire attending my friend Shaun’s wedding. Then from there I went to Boston to stay with Mike, a college room mate, and got the chance to meet his wonderful girlfriend Allison. I returned yesterday and had a pretty scary adventure on the way back, which I’ll blog about later. Today is dedicated to catching up with a number of things.

look ma!

I’m the kodak.com Picture of the Day… which I guess would be more impressive if I didn’t work for them ;-). But it’s a good shoot, take a look:

getting things going

here are some shot’s I’ve taken over the last couple night of us working to start to prepare the new home of Renaissance Martial Arts. As you can see, we’ve got our work cut out for us. Thankfully, a lot of it is being handled by the landlord/professionals.

This is a view of the inside looking toward the entrance. This was taken while the drop ceiling was still up. A half wall will go in by the door and the office and dressing rooms will be located at that end.

This is looking toward the back left corner of the room. When we’re finished most of this area will be matted for grappling classes.

The back right corner. The landlord still has to finish the wall on the right. This will eventually be the main class area. Once the wall is finished then mirrors will be going up on it.

Our resident bruiser, Brian, carefully removing tiles. The masks were just to protect us from the dust and fiberglass insulation.

Pat’s working to take the ceiling down with a rattan staff. How’s that for contemporary use of training?

“We also have men who are willing to die for an idea.” - New York Journalist Katie Roiphe writing about those who laid down their lives over a year ago helping save friends, family, and strangers in New York, Washington D.C. and over Pennsylvania.

thoughts? I’ve got lots of ‘em. None that I want to share right now. The cynical ones I don’t want to share out of respect for the dead. The profound ones aren’t that profound. So instead I’ll retread something I included in a post a year ago along with a picture I sketched of a man I saw in Canada, holding an American Flag standing over the QEW.

“There are moments in your life that make you, that set the course of who you’re gonna be. Sometimes they’re little, subtle moments, sometimes they’re not. Bottom line is, even if you see em coming, you’re not ready for the big moments. Nobody asked for their life to change, but it does. So what are we? Helpless puppets? No. The big moments are gonna come, you can’t help that, it’s what you do afterwards that counts. That’s when you find out who you really are.”

Finally, Neil Gaiman, who has become one of my favorite authors over the course of the last year, wrote this short poem (reproduced here without authorization from Marvel Comic’s memorial Heroes… sorry Neil), to commemorate both the dead and the surviors:

The Song of the Lost

I’ll take the touch of his lips, she said

I’ll take the touch of his hair.

But all she has is photograph of an unsuspecting stare;

So she pins it up by the lampposts

And she tells herself he’s lost;

For this is the price of destruction;

– This is the hell of the cost.

We cannot forget our loved ones

We do not forget our friends

Till time itself be over and every friendship ends.

I will always hold on to hope, she says,

And never give in to despair.

But she misses the touch of his lips, his smile,

She misses the smell of his hair.

— Neil Gaiman, 2001

new mp3

check out the remixed elvis goodness on the left side column.

sometimes I really wonder about people

from Yoe Studio’s Hip List Newletter for this week:

+++HIPPEST: A Hairy Situation

So you thought the feng shui trend was over? Think again! Now there’s feng shui for your hair. Salons specializing in the technique are popping up all over, offering hairstyles that will clear negative energy from your life. As an added bonus, the haircuts, which cost up to $250, will also clear out your wallet.

works cut out for us

We began work last night on the new home of Renaissance Martial Arts. While Sifu and Coach plotted floor space, we tore down a temporary wall, moved a lot of odds and ends that were stored in there and started to tear down the drop ceiling. Unfortunately all I brought with me was a film camera, so you’ll have to wait on the before and after shots. Suffice to say we have our work cut out for us.

And I have my work cut out for me for the weekend. Top among those tasks is mail out my brother Glenn’s much belated Birthday gifts (and get Jenny’s much belated birthday gift). Glenns is the most pressing as he’s apparently already mailed out mine, proving once again that I’m the stinky brother when it comes to gift givin’.

checking in

Joel once told me that even if you just say “I ate a cheese sandwich today”, you should try and blog every day. Umm… I had a Club Sandwich for lunch. Actually I got a lot done today. The weekend was good. Dan kicked all of our butts as usual. Attending one of his seminars is like drinking from a firehose. By the time that he hit on Kali stick work my brain had totally shut off. And that’s never good when you’re working with weapons. But I’m still in one piece, so it’s all good.

We’re starting organizational work on Exact Theatre. Before we start our next production, we’re working to get out house in order. Basically we don’t want to go through what happened with the last play ever again. That’s about it for the moment.

i love this town!

I’m in a great mood! Basically the best way that I can describe it is walking into work I felt like Winston (Ernie Hudson) at the end of Ghostbusters when he throws out his arms and yells “I Love This Town!” Not that I’m in love with Rochester, but rather just with life. I just suddenly feel like I’m making a lot of forward progress on my time management (and without a flux capacitor Glenn… and I thought we’d all agreed that we’d never talk about the Plutonium incident again).

I’ll be at the new martial arts school on Monday and take some pictures to share. Speaking of that I had a great Martial Arts night on Wednesday. It started out pretty badly, or at least disappointingly. I made a lot of basic errors; things that I’ve been working to eliminate for a while but just keep nagging me. But I recovered and by the end of the night pulled out some of the best moves I’ve got from my bag of tricks. And that ability to recover is something that I’ve been working on for a while. Basically, it’s trying not to get weighed down by your errors. It’s well documented that Michael Jordan typically reacted the same way to missed shots as he did to shots he sunk. He simply acknowledged them and then moved on. The same is true for most successful athletes. And just about anyone with any ongoing successful performance. Traditionally I’ve done the exact opposite. I tend to live in my errors, and because of that I often don’t pay what’s going on immediately after them. And because of that you just mess up more. And you start one of those cycles like: “I take drugs so I can work harder so I can earn more money so I can take more drugs so I can work harder….” Breaking that cycle has probably aided me more than anything else over the last year in most of my endeavors.

The weekend is going to be hectic. Tomorrow I’ve got a lot of cleaning to do. Plus I have to work on some thing for the school and for the theatre company. And tomorrow night Drea is making dinner for me as a belated birthday celebration (did I mention she rocks?). Sunday it’s off to beautiful Cortland to train with Dan Inosanto (possibly the most famous martial artist and definitely one of the greatest martial historians alive today).