Huntington

I am taking a computer science class where I am learning the programming language C++. The hardest part of the class is finding time to do the work. Because I am familiar with HTML and CSS, and had started to learn JavaScript, the concepts of programming make a lot of sense to me. Despite having difficulty keeping up with the assignments, I am in a position to help some of the other students. The student that I have been helping the most is unsurprisingly the one that I sit next to. This student (lets call him Jim) is eighteen years old and is going into computer science as a major. We first got talking when he was having trouble loading the text editor / compiler on his laptop because it was running windows 8 (which is still in prerelease preview). Since then we have talked a little more each class session.

This last class session we spoke about some more personal matters. We got to talking about our shared love of coffee (Jim works at a Starbucks) and I told him about how it helps me focus and keeps my eyes lubricated (I have shitty tear ducts). I also mentioned that I don’t like the addiction part of it. Jim told me that isn’t the worst part for him as he smokes. We got into a discussion about smoking and how one gets started in such an anti-smoking culture as Southern California. All this was regular small talk until he told me why he isn’t afraid of the consequences of smoking. Jim’s family has a history of Huntington’s Disease.

What more do you say after something like that. None of us know when we will die but Jim has a better guess than most. He alluded to having watched his family members go through the wasting effects of the disease and told me that he has thus far avoided learning too much about it. He is trying to focus on living his life and not think too hard about the game of genetic roulette that he is subject to. After a rough pause and some sad words we forged on to easier topics, but I have not been able to shake the thought.

This really made me grateful for my health. I know that I would react in a different way than Jim has and try to learn all I could about the disease. I would get my DNA sequenced and find out for sure if I had the gene. What terror it is to know that you have a 50% chance of an incurable degenerative disease when you reach somewhere around 35 to 40 years of age.

What an unfair world we live in.

Redeployment

My brother’s Deployment ceremony was this past weekend. The last two times he was sent off to war he was stationed in Washington so I wasn’t able to go to the ceremony if there even was one. This time I went. I had to leave early because of a test in the Cisco class that I was taking but I was there for an hour. The ceremony was essentially a block of solders sitting while some officers talked about how proud they were of them and of the unit in general. Then they sang the army song and fell out.

It was an emotional ceremony for me because it called to mind how it was during his second deployment to Iraq, when I wasn’t sure if I would ever see him again. My brother is very important to me. He has been my guide and friend and has helped me find my way more times than I can count. Anyone who knows the two of us can see how similar and how in sync we are.

This time I am less afraid for his life. I know that he will be working at a higher echelon than the last time and that he will not be on patrols. What I am afraid of is that he will be hurt, not hurt physically but mentally. I know that war has changed him. Seeing and doing the things that a soldier does and being in a place where there are people lurking with hatred in their hearts waiting for the chance to kill whomever they can has altered the landscape of his life. He can no longer enjoy fireworks on Independence Day, and he gets angry and frustrated quicker than he used to.

I am afraid that he will come back even more changed. That the scars that are already there under the surface will be added to. I am afraid that he is paying into this war with his mental health and his best physical years. I am afraid that he will come back and give in to the thought of being a career soldier and spend the rest of his life in the armed services, where things are structured and predictable.

Seeing this ceremony made me a little emotional. I am afraid that I could lose him, angry that he has to go, sad for everyone who's family has to be kept apart for this mad war. I hate seeing him go willingly to where he will be hurt again. He goes for honor and duty and because he promised he would and I would never ask him to forsake all that, so I stand by and watch it all happen again. It is hard to keep from going into a rant at this point. I want to ramble on about political will and cultural incompatibility but that isn’t the point. The point is that I don’t want to lose my brother.

Little Black Belt

I am a black belt and as part of that accomplishment I am expected to be ready to help the other students with whatever they are working on. The students that tend to need the most help are the ones that are preparing to take their test to achieve their own black belt. At this stage a student is trying to perfect the 15 techniques each for defense against kicking, punching, knife attack, and the 15 for hand to hand throws against a neutral opponent. Add to these 60 maneuvers the various kicks while standing moving and spinning that you need to have mastered. This is a serious work load and a serious commitment and so our Master has a special Friday night class for the black belts and the almost black belts to train up for the test.

I had an interesting experience at the dojo last night at the black belt prep class. I was holding a spin-kick pad for some recommended black belts and helping them refine their kicks. It is sometimes difficult to get the younger students to commit to the art, and you have to gauge your instruction against the desire of the student to learn and their ability (some students are just going through the motions and some are farther along then others). I had two young recommended black belts to help that night. I am going to refer to these kids as A and B. First A stepped up and delivered his kicks swiftly and almost without effectiveness. He ran through the four kicks (180, 360, jump 180, jump 360) quickly. I tried to get him to slow down and aim better. I showed him how to angle his body to strike with the heel (instead of the side of the foot that will leave you with a broken foot) but in the end the lack of eye contact and slack posture defeated me and I sent him on to his next step (low kicks).

Kid B came up and I was immediately worried about his lack of eye contact.  I started him out on his 180 spin kick and there was an immediate problem. His turn was jearky, his kick was very low and his balance was very weak. I lowered the pad and had him kick a few more times to no better effect. At this point I stopped and asked him if he was struggling with anything. He told me through a stutter that he has minor cerebral palsy. I have no experience with cerebral palsy and had no idea where his limits were so I just took it slowly and tried to help him at his level. I could tell, by the fact that he had come up to me, that he was ready to learn so I gave him what advice that I could. He needed to break the movement down and build muscle memory of the movement. I had him repeat the movement and tried to work at his level with the goal of improvement and not mastery. We did the 180 and 360 degree kicks but skipped the ones with jumps. I don't know if he will ever be able to do the kicks properly but he will be able to improve.

This moment really resonated with me. Here were two students, one with the will and one with the physical ability. It was nothing short of tragic that kid A was apathetic and kid B was physically disabled. When it comes down to a decision, I would rather work with kid B than kid A. I want to be there for someone who wants to learn, not talking to a kid who is just waiting for when they can go home. It just makes me so sad to know that kid B is fully aware (his father described him as freaky-smart) but is stuck inside a body that won't respond properly to his mind.

This really reminds me about how fortunate I am to be strong and healthy. Count your blessings sweet reader, and never take life for granted.

Failure

I got news today about the job that I interviewed for recently. It seems that they "filled the position" I guess that is soft talk for "we hired someone else." I am very disappointed that I didn't get the job, but I am also sort of glad that I get to finish out the project that I am currently working on where I work now.

The big problem now is figuring out what direction to go next. Do I stop looking for work and stay in my current job? do I keep looking for work in my field or in the field of props making? Do I look for a marketing-type job like I interviewed for? I am now faced with a number of options and I am not sure what is best for me. I know that I can no longer accept the inconsistent work that got me to this point but if I have to move on where do I move to?

Mead Batch 6 Failure

I went to bottle mead batch 6 this morning and found out that it is a failure. I am not sure whether it is the inconsistent temperature or the time I let the fermentation lock run too dry, or if it was when I moved back home during the process, but it was so bad that I poured it down the drain. I was so disappointed that I forgot to take a specific gravity reading before dumping it so I have learned almost nothing from this batch. next time I need to find a temperature controlled place to store it and I need to not move while I am making a batch.

What shall I do for my next batch?

Waste of time

TV is for the most part a waste of time. Having said that, Sarah my ex-girlfriend may be on a TV show that does makeovers. She called me and asked if I would go on it as a friend of hers that does not agree with her style. I told her that it sounded fun and when the producer called my I scheduled a time to go in for an interview. I read the release forms before going down there with an increasing trepidation. The contract is written to give the network (and anyone else they designate) full rights over the footage even so far as to say that they can lie to me and misrepresent me. I went down into LA anyway to talk to the producers and possibly do it anyway, and after talking about my concerns got the reply "Well, if you are that worried about it we would rather just find someone else." So I drove back to the office wasting a total of 2 hours.

Oh Well

Cracks

I have done a little woodturning the past few days. I was successful in making a bowl out of purpleheart for my girlfriend but since that I have tried two more times and failed due to cracks in the turning blanks. This is a bit disheartening. One of the blocks was mango that my father brought me from the Philippines and the other was a piece of Olive that I cut myself when a friend was cutting down an olive tree in his yard. I hope that some of the other olive blanks are actually usable but I fear that they are all too cracked to use.

Depth

I just came to a shitty realization. There is no future for me in video editing. The place I was thinking of taking my career will inevitably outgrow me. I do not see in 3D, ever since birth my eyes have not worked together to create a 3D image of the world. I only catch glimpses every now and again of depth, and as video moves to the third dimension any learning I will have in editing will be for nothing. I will be like a colorblind person in the world of color movies.

Terrible News

Seems that we didn't get the bid we spent a whole week working on. Now I have no idea where that leaves us.

R.I.P.

Grand Master Chong S. Kim, the founder of Kim's hapkido died last week. Even though my Dojo no longer carries his name (we switched to Mile High Karate about 6 months ago) and even though I never met the man in person, he had an enormous effect on my life. He taught Master Les Connard who is the master of the Dojo where I train and it is the Jang Mu Won style that he taught that I learned. His teaching and the sense of family that he instilled in his dojo will stay with me for the rest of my life.

Sick

I've been sick for about a week now. The only symptoms are a cough and a sore throat. It has been keeping me from running and going to HapKiDo. What a pain

Jury Duty

I am writing this post from the jury assembly room at the Los Angeles Superior Court house. I just got back from a 2 hour lunch break (enough time to drive home, eat, watch an episode of Heroes and get some tea at the local spot before driving back) and now my purgatory begins anew. The morning was a total waste of time. I got here at 7:40 (10 minutes late) and waited. We checked in at 8:30 or so and then waited. We watched a mostly useless orientation video and then waited. We took roll call and then were dismissed at 11:30 for lunch. The court seems to have a strict 12:00- 1:30 lunch break so since they weren't ready for us we were given the time for lunch. Now I'm back and the boredom is already sinking in. I brought a book to read, "Golf in the Kingdom" by Michael Murphy but I am not so interested. I have already read "The Rub of the Green" and "The Legend of Bagger Vance" so I am not so sure I can take another book about the mysticism of golf. I will give it a good chance. There isn't like there is much else to do.

On a kind of zany note there is a TV in here and it is tuned to People's Court. How wrong is that!