Post About Tubbies? Guest Post Must Follow
Last week I wrote about the Teletubbies. Yes, the Teletubbies. I hit an all time low (I still like them though, just shh, don’t tell anyone). Anyway, I started thinking about asking someone to guest post. I mean, surely if I’m writing about the teletubbies, I could use some R & R.
So, today I bring you a guest post by a Sandan (3rd degree black belt) in Okinawan Kenpo Karate and Kobudo. He’s also a student of Muso Jikiden Eishin Ryu Kenjutsu (that’s Japanese weaponry for the non-Japanese-knowing folk). He also happens to be a former instructor and training partner, and a very good writer (if I do say so myself). So read, relax, and enjoy. Also, make sure you give him some love in the comments section when you’re done (we just might be able to get him to start his own blog!!!). I look forward to him joining us at our new school; but in the meantime, maybe he’ll be hanging out here, at the BBM lair occasionally. Now without further delay. . .
Jo: Weapon of Self-Defense for in the Home or at College
Matthew Apsokardu
Simplicity. That’s what effective self-defense is all about. In order to prepare ourselves for self-defense situations, we engage in a myriad of activities like creating action plans, increasing physical fitness, and practicing various techniques. But in the end, it is instinct that we rely on most. When instinct kicks in we utilize those actions which are most engrained in our psyche. Because of that visceral, adrenaline pumping reaction, I believe the Jo is the best weapon for self-defense in the home or dorm room.
Let’s start off with a basic definition. Generally speaking, the Jo is a four foot long wooden staff with no taper, as seen below –
Why is the Jo a good weapon for in the home?
The Jo is perfect for indoor use because it is an optimal length. Weapons like the Rokushakubo (six foot Bo) are far too long and would get caught on ceilings, surrounding furniture, etc. Furthermore, if an assailant breaking into your house manages to catch hold of the weapon, it would be difficult to generate a release, and by the time you figure something out, it’s too late. Let’s take a quick look at length comparisons –
As I mentioned, the Jo is significantly shorter than the Bo, but it is also longer than all the other weapons. An assailant wielding a short knife, machete, or baseball bat would be at an immediate length disadvantage. Until you can get your bearings and regain control of your emotions, staying out of the range of your attacker is of utmost importance.
Why use the Jo and not conventional weapons, like a gun or a knife?
The Jo is a better choice for various reasons. Let’s examine a knife first. The knife benefits from immediate cutting power and the fear it can instill in an attacker. However, in order to do damage with the knife, you must be very close. This can cause problems, especially if the attacker is stronger, faster, or has a longer weapon than you. If you are the least bit hesitant in striking your target, he will bash you with punishing physical blows and will gain control of your weapon, turning it on you. That being said, I do like the knife as a self-defense weapon. When used viciously, it can shred an opponent to ribbons. However, you have to gauge your own capacities – are you ready to cut and stab another human being?
Another problem with the knife arises in dorm rooms. If you are a student and keep a knife next to your bed or under your pillow, it had better not get discovered. Not only will your hall mates become afraid and anxious, they might also get authorities involved. You could be facing counseling, police attention, or more serious repercussions. The Jo, however, is a completely nondescript piece of wood – it could hypothetically be part of a desk you never finished assembling, or a closet rod that you didn’t need. No one will look twice as it rests unassumingly next to your headboard, and if a question does arise, there are plenty of good answers.
Now let’s look at Jo compared to a gun. The main reason I favor the Jo is simplicity. Most responsible homeowners keep there guns hidden away, unloaded, and with the safety on (especially if they have kids). Even if you have a gun nearby, you have to consider your emotional readiness to use it, just like a knife. For some people that’s no problem, but for most, the actual use of a gun results in hesitation and self-doubt.
Let’s just run a quick scenario. You’re sleeping quietly in your room with your significant other lying next to you. The door is about 6 feet away. You hear the doorknob rattling and it brings you out of sleep into a groggy state. Suddenly a black clothed man charges into the room…
…and now he is on you, striking you repeatedly.
Did you have time to retrieve your gun, switch the safety off, cock it (if necessary), aim it, and then fire? The same situation arises if the attacker is coming through the window. Now what if you had a Jo resting by your head? As the robber throws the door open you reach back and grab the Jo, and as he charges, you swing it, striking him in the head from four feet away. He stumbles back and now you’re very awake. You strike him in the hand so that he releases his weapon and then in the head again, knocking him out.
I’m not saying you shouldn’t own a gun or knife or anything like that, but the speed and distance of the Jo is ideal for situations that require quick reactions. If you hear a noise a few rooms away and have a minute or two to prepare a firearm (and you’ve assessed your willingness to use it), then a gun is certainly useful; but it’s very risky to rely solely on that.
If we go back to dorm rooms, guns are completely unacceptable. If you are found with a gun, the repercussions will be much worse than if you have a knife. Consider another scenario – if you’re a woman in college, self-defense situations are very real. One of your roommates might invite a couple of “friends” over for a party. One of those male friends might decide he wants to take advantage of you. Being weaponless in this scenario is very undesirable. Many women carry around small containers of mace, and that’s a good thing. However, the problem of reaction time and adrenaline arises again. If you are lucky enough to have the mace handy and not buried at the bottom of a book bag or purse, you have to point it in the right direction, make sure the safety mechanism is disengaged, and then fire into your attacker’s eyes (hoping it doesn’t get into your eyes as well). That’s a lot of contingencies.
An attack like this will likely occur on or near your bed. If you have a Jo sitting by your headboard, your attacker will unexpectedly receive a quick strike to the face, followed by one to the groin, before he gets a chance to put his hands on you and overpower you. Or if he is already on top of you, all you need is that one free hand to reach up, grab the Jo, and bash the butt-end of it into his face, leaving you with room to strike him further as he reels back.
Other Reasons to Like the Jo
Versatility. Tack that onto simplicity. The Jo can be used in a wide swinging motion, or a thrusting motion, or a throwing motion, and both ends can be utilized. No matter how you grab the Jo, it’s ready for action. Furthermore, it is more inherently useful than other martial art weapons. The Sai, Tunfa, Kama, etc. all have a higher learning curve. With just a little bit of training, the Jo can be nightmare for any attacker. Finally, the Jo is not a risk to children in your household. Far too often we hear about accidents where young ones cut or shoot themselves.
Get a Jo Today
You don’t have to go to Japan to get a Jo, just Home Depot. They sell dowel rods for four dollars that are cut almost exactly to four feet. Select a dowel that is at least one inch in diameter, and check the wood for any cracks or knots. Buy some sandpaper too. When you get it home, sand down the ends so that they are rounded, then sand the entire staff. If you can find a competent instructor who is familiar with Jo, try to include it in your training. At night, leave the Jo resting by your headboard, and if you are going to college or have kids that are, be sure to send them off with one.
Matthew Apsokardu can be contacted at mapsokardu@gmail.com.
No No NOO-NOO!
I very well may lose your respect in my first paragraph, but I have to say it. . . I like the Teletubbies. I know they’re odd. They have ridiculous names (Tinky-Winky, Dipsy, Laa Laa, and Po); they have television screens for bellies, and they talk weird. I get it, but my girls just adore them (and so do I). Shh, don’t tell ANYONE!
A few short week ago, Lil C was terrified of the vacuum cleaner. In a split level home with six levels to be vacuumed, this is a serious problem. I was practically throwing my back out every time I had to run the vacuum because Lil C took up prime real estate on my hip for the duration.
Then one day, I had a brilliant idea.
"Lil C" I said, "our vacuum is just like the Teletubbies Noo-Noo!" We watched a couple episodes on Tivo where the happy little Noo-Noo gladly followed around the Teletubbies and cleaned up their tubby custard spills and their tubby toast crumbs. I took her over to our vacuum and told her, "This is our Noo-Noo. See, Noo-Noo’s are nice. They don’t want to vacuum up little girls or toys, just dirt. They like to clean up dirt."
"Noo-Noo," she said smiling. It was totally working.
I sat her on the sofa with her posse of stuffed animals and told her I was going to turn the Noo-Noo on. She looked nervous; but instead of screaming like she had in the past, she squeezed Elmo a little tighter and just sat there watching the "Noo-Noo" do its thing. It was a total and complete success.
"Noo-Noo cleanin’ up," she’d say. "Noo-Noo no like toyses," she’d repeat like a mantra. I had successfully eased her fear of the dreaded vacuum. And then today happened.
We were watching an afternoon episode of the Teletubbies when something crazy happened. The Noo-Noo, always a perfectly behaved little vacuum cleaner, completely and totally lost it. Instead of cleaning up tubby custard, the Noo-Noo literally ate Laa Laa’s ball.
"OH NO!" Lil C yelled, looking at me like she’d just had the shock of the century. Then the Noo-Noo proceeded to eat Dipsy’s hat.
"What HAP END? Oh NOOOO!" she yelled louder.
"Oh NO, Pack back!" she screamed in anticipation of the Noo-Noo eating Tinky Winky’s bag for dessert, and that’s exactly what the Noo-Noo did.
She walked around the living room like her entire world had just crumbled around her. "It’s o.k." I said, "The Noo-Noo is just being silly. Silly Noo-Noo." But the show ended and there was no vacuum regurgitation or bag changing that I saw.
In an attempt to end the Teletubby experience with a good memory, I quickly found an episode on our DVR and fast forwarded to the Noo-Noo part. To my shock and horror (and to Lil C’s as well), the Noo-Noo approached each sleeping Teletubby and sucked their blankets right off of their colorful rotund bodies.
Lil C spent the rest of the day telling me "Oh NO Noo-Noo! Noo-Noo eat blanket. Noo-Noo eat ball. Noo-Noo Dipsy’s hat! Oh NO NOO-NOO! What HAP END?"
I really need to vacuum tomorrow and I have a feeling we’re going back to the drawing board. Thanks a LOT Noo-Noo!
With a Cherry on Top
I started out my day at midnight. An extremely frustrated Mr. BBM brought down a crying Lil C and said, "I give up." Mr. BBM puts her to bed each night and it just wasn’t happening. I suspected that she wasn’t feeling well, so I got her a drink and cuddled with her on the couch for a bit. I figured her marathon of sleeplessness would end soon.
I was very wrong.
Lil C stayed up until 2 a.m. A very tired me realized that I had to get up at 6:50 a.m. in order to get Big I off to school on time, and I knew then and there it was going to be a bad day. When the alarm went off at 6:50 a.m. on the dot, there was only one thing to do. . . hit the snooze button.
I enjoyed ten more minutes and then dragged my very tired butt out of bed. I threw on some shorts, leaving my pajama top on because I had every intention of walking Big I to the bus and coming right back in to hit the pillow again.
Things were going fine, right up until Big I went upstairs to brush her teeth after breakfast. It was taking a ridiculously long time for her to get back downstairs. I was watching the clock nervously, not wanting her to miss the bus. Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore. I charged up the steps, opened the bathroom door, and there she was with this wide-eyed look.
"Oh thank God, Mommy! I couldn’t open the door." Apparently, six-year olds forget that they should dry their hands on a towel before attempting to open the bathroom door. I told her not to close the door anymore to brush her teeth and we both ran down the stairs.
We grabbed her stuff and ran out the door with one minute to spare. We were sprinting to the bus stop when my neighbor called my name. I was about to tell her I really didn’t have any time to talk when she said, "I think you missed the bus."
That was it. My master plan of going back to sleep was over. I quickly retrieved a hot Lil C from her crib. I thought for a second that maybe she was just hot from being under her covers, but I knew I was grasping. We raced Big I to school and returned back home for a visit with the "birdy" (ear thermometer).
102.3. Fabulous. Just what my Tuesday morning needed.
I gave her some medicine and lured her back to sleep in my bed with Sesame Street reruns. We woke up a few hours later and I spent the rest of the day following around a very runny nosed Lil C.
T minus 72 hours before I have whatever the girls have had. It’s a given.
I spent much of the rest of my day having an email debate with someone who happened to stop by my blog on a day when I was talking about his biggest pet peeve. It was exhausting.
Then, while I was on instant messenger discussing a trade possibility with a teammate in one of my fantasy football leagues, some guy IM’d me out of the blue and asked me if I could "do a full split"? He then also asked me what types of techniques I would use on attackers. I sensed he was looking for a little more than martial arts advice and quickly made my exit.
Big I and I then went to karate tonight. I don’t know what Big I’s problem was, but she was just not into it tonight. She seemed like she was in the twilight zone or something. It was just not clicking for her. I think she was tired, and that she’s still getting used to her school schedule. Tonight showed me though, that I need to put some tape on my makeshift basement dojo floor for her so that she can learn proper stances. I know she’s only six years old, but I get so frustrated with her when she zones out like that.
Follow that with the advanced class where I had to do my kata for Shodan, Seisan, in front of a small crowd. It’s good I did. My instructor was able to point out some crucial things I was doing wrong and give me some very good explanations are far as bunkai goes. I was just nervous being out there in my new dojo in front the advanced crowd, but I guess I better just get used to it. I have much practice to do on Seisan this week.
By the time Big I and I arrived home, my head was just pounding. The lack of sleep, lack of hydration (due to being too busy wiping a little nose all day to get myself much in the way of food or drink) had just caught up with me. Plus, September 11th always makes me feel blue, as it well should.
Sometimes, however, storm clouds come with a lovely silver lining. I got a new comment from someone who said he came from BlogsWeLuv.
What’s that?
A quick search on google brought me to the site where one of the contributors, (and also my blogging buddy) Da Mack Daddy had written this totally awesome, completely flattering review of my blog!
A little ibuprofen for the headache, and a new badge to put on my blog make me very happy. Thank you DMD for such a nice send-off on an otherwise craptastic day!
Like a Sore Thumb
Filed under: Mental Strain for Mama, Things that get my gi all in a bunch
I recognized him instantly and it sent a chill down my spine. He stood there with a grocery basket in my grocery store. He wore a black baseball hat, a baggy t-shirt to match, and held an unlit cigarette in his hand. He stood apart from everyone else in the store. Instinctively, I held Lil C a little closer to me and was happy I hadn’t stuck her immediately in the truck cart.
I made sure to make eye contact with him. I wanted to send him a message that I knew exactly who he was, and that I am no one to be messed with. It wasn’t just my paranoia. My husband recognized him instantly too. After we were out of earshot, we both spoke at the same time, "That was definitely him."
About a month ago, I got an email from Family Watchdog. I had registered with them a while ago. Their site offers information on how to keep your children safe. They also offer notifications when a sex offender moves into your area. I have 111 sex offenders living in my area, but this email greatly disturbed me. This sex offender had moved .4 miles from my house, on the same street that I live on.
I was able to see his picture and some of the details of his arrest. When I took a walk with the girls a few days later, I realized that we often walk right past his apartment. It made me sick. I can deal with it when they live a few miles away, but within a few minutes walking distance is just entirely too close for comfort.
I don’t believe that sex offenders can be rehabilitated, especially those who go after children. People who go after minors have serious mental problems that can not be solved by a short jail sentence. I know all the issues with full jails, but I don’t think that convicted sex offenders should see the light of day. Why should I have to trust that they will treat me and my children with respect, when they have already shown once that they can’t?
I once read a research study somewhere that said that those who commit sexual assault are likely to be repeat offenders. My sister used to work with sex offenders. One day, one of the sex offenders attacked one of her co-workers. Once they’ve done it once, they will do it again. It’s only a matter of time and opportunity.
I know that they are walking amongst us all, but to recognize one of them so clearly in my own grocery store was so unsettling. I think about how I used to play outside for hours at a time when I was a little girl. My girls are under constant supervision when they’re outside. My parents never really talked to me about "bad people" when I was little. Sure, I got the "don’t talk to strangers" that every kid gets; but I have already had in depth conversations with Big I about what makes a good person, what makes a bad or dangerous person, and how she needs to handle herself if she’s unsure.
There are arguments that the problem is no worse today than it was years ago, and that crimes involving sexual attacks are picked up and blown up by the media. But it’s hard to deny that there’s a serious problem when you go to Family Watchdog, type in your address, and watch the screen light up with colored dots showing where convicted sex offenders live and work, within minutes of your home. When they’re also shopping at your grocery store, alongside you and your family, it really hits home.
Britney’s Booty and Other Rants
It’s been a while since I let off some steam, so I thought I’d let you know the things that are on my nerves as of late. Please feel free to share your thoughts as well.
Britney Spears
I was at a wedding reception last night, so I missed what is being called a train wreck of a comeback. Yes, I’m talking about Britney Spears. Let’s first get something straight. I am no fan of Britney Spears, but I was curious as to how her opening performance at MTV’s VMA awards was going to go. I went to MTV’s website and watched it for myself, after reading several scathing reviews on various news venues. While I agree that her lip syncing was completely off, and that her dance moves lacked any sort of motivation or get-up-and go, I am highly annoyed at those out there talking about the state of her body. That 25-year old train wreck has had two children in the past two years and she was on TV in a bikini. No, she’s not as cut as she used to be. Yes, she has a bit more of a booty, but cut the girl a break already! She’s had two kids and she looks THAT good!?! To quote John Stossel, "Give me a break!"
Boys and Field Hockey
I read an article in my local newspaper about a problem with field hockey in my county. Apparently, there are some schools who are allowing boys onto the girls field hockey teams. Because of this, certain schools are putting in place policies that state that their all girls hockey teams will forfeit to any team with boys playing, rather than have their girls risk injury playing in a game against boys. Last year, one of the local schools had three girls get injured during a single game against a team who had several boys playing. One of the girls even required stitches.
Now, if you know anything about field hockey, you know that there are strict rules against making body contact. Field hockey can be a very rough sport (Ask my still bruised up shins if you don’t believe me), but the injuries usually come from high sticks, and/or the ball. Apparently, it’s becoming more of a contact sport with the boys on the team.
Here’s my take on the whole thing. If boys want to play field hockey, great; but get your own team. I think it is ridiculous that boys are being allowed to play on a girls field hockey team while there are able-bodied girls sitting on the bench. If a team doesn’t have enough players, that’s one thing; but sitting girls on the bench in order to play boys is not at all fair. If Big I or Lil C ever play field hockey and a boy plays ahead of either of them, I’m going to have a serious problem with that.
While I’m all for equal rights, there are more sports for boys than there are for girls. Cheerleading does not count as a sport. (Don’t even argue with me on this one, because I am a former cheerleader. Extracurricular "activity" I’ll give you. Sport? No). There is no valid reason for allowing boys to start taking over spots that should belong to girls on a girls team. It’s not like the boys don’t have plenty of their own sports.
Studies have shown that playing sports is highly beneficial for the self-esteem of girls. Good self-esteem helps to keep girls out of bad situations: drugs, teenage pregnancy, excessive drinking, to name just a few. I don’t think that allowing boys to play on a girls team does anything to promote girls confidence, which is what girls sports are intended to do.
When a bunch of girls at my high school decided it would be fun to play football, we rounded up enough girls to make a team and set up a game with another school who did the same. If the boys want to play, they should get their own team, plain and simple.
Fantasy Football
For those of you who don’t know what it is, here are a couple definitions for you. The first one is courtesy of wiki:
Fantasy Football is a fantasy sports game in which participants (called "owners"), arranged into a league, each draft or acquire via auction a team of real-life American football players and then score points based on those players’ statistical performance on the field. A typical fantasy league will employ players from a single football league, such as the NFL or an NCAA division. Leagues can be arranged in which the winner is the team with the most total points at the end of the season, or in a head-to-head format (which mirrors the actual NFL) in which each team plays against a single opponent each week. At the end of the year, win-loss records determines league rankings or qualification into a playoff bracket. Most leagues set aside the last weeks of the regular season for their own playoffs.
Here’s my definition:
Fantasy Football is the equivalent of banging your head against a brick wall on a continual basis with emphasis placed on Sunday’s. "Owners" choose a starting line-up and then watch their bench-goers get twice as many points as any of their starters which subsequently makes them wonder why they ever thought playing fantasy football would be fun in the first place. Fantasy Football is an exercise in anger management like no other, where "owners" must either learn to deal with their anger appropriately or suffer a fantasy football related aneurysm.
Examples: BBM chooses to play Ladainian Tomlinson and Maurice Jones-Drew as her starting running backs for week one. LT scores 19 fantasy points. Maurice Jones-Drew scores 3 fantasy points. Adrian Peterson (sitting on my bench) scores 29 fantasy points. Don’t get it? Here’s another one for you: Marc Bulger scores 13 fantasy points. My bench QB, Ben Roethlisberger scores 32 fantasy points. Want another one? Here you go: Vince Young scores 9 fantasy points, while my benched QB Jake Delhomme scores 27 fantasy points. Think that’s bad? My opponent’s starting QB, Drew Brees scores 1 point while his bench QB Tony Romo scores 42 points. He’s still probably going to beat me, which makes me even more irritated.
Deep breath BBM, deep breath. . .
Feel free to post your thoughts, but keep it respectful or your comment will stay in the cave.
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