“Cadillac.”

“Excuse me,” I said, turning to Aiki-Doh!-ka for enlightenment. We were at the edge of the tatami watching the class practice kihon dosa.

“That guy, he’s a Cadillac,” he replied, pointing to an energetic aikidoka on the mat.

“Why do you say that?”

“Every time he stops, he bounces, just like a luxury car from the seventies.”

I was about to say I was trying to forget the seventies, but Aiki was already pointing at someone else, a big guy who was trying to get up after receiving a solid throw. He had a made a significant dent in the mat and was struggling to climb out.

“Ford.”

“Ford?”

“Yeah, Ford. Found on road dead.”

That was an oldy, perhaps even pre-dating the seventies. But I was starting to learn his game. I scanned the dojo, then turned to A-D, pointing at someone on the mat, just as he was doing the same, and we pronounced simultaneously:

“Mack truck!” A big burly guy pounding towards his jyu waza partner.

This went on for a while until the Highway Patrol (Sensei!) told us to move on…

What kind of car are you?

It’s been a long winter here in Canada, and Aiki-Doh!-ka was showing signs of cabin fever: he sanded and re-finished all his buki (his gi seems to be varnished too), wrote hundreds of haiku (mostly about chilblains and dry-cracker feet), and memorized long passages from “The Book of Five Rings”, making him prone to quoting from that veritable tome in a sage and mystical way that left his training partners puzzled and a little bit nervous.

We decided that an intervention was required, and bundled him into a car without telling him where we were going, just that it would be a surprise. A couple of hours later, we arrived in the big city and found our way to a well established dojo that was hosting a clinic by one of A-D’s idols.

It proved to be the perfect tonic as he spent the entire weekend (except for a brief visit to the emergency room and the afternoon that he got lost on the subway) immersed in his favourite activity, surrounded by people who were as passionate about aikido as he is. (Well, almost.)

Now he’s fresh and cheerful (and sporting a few new duct tape patches on his dogi) and seeing daffodils every time he looks out the window.

May your irimi into spring be just as joyful!

Kevin

I was over at Aiki-Doh!-ka’s place the other day to practice aikido with him. When I arrived, he led me down to the basement - he has a few discarded tatami that he has scavenged and calls the room his dojo. After we changed into our dogis and stretched out a bit, he suggested that we begin with kihon dosa, and walked over to the stereo to put on a CD.

“We’ll try something new,” he announced.

In a few moments the familiar strains of the “Blue Danube Waltz” flooded the room and he began to do shumatsa dosa ichi in - well, in waltz time.

After standing agog for a few moments, I decided to give it a try, praying that my wife wouldn’t find out - she’s been trying to get me to take ballroom dancing for years.

Darned if it didn’t help - and it was fun, too!

A-D kept changing the music for each different exercise:

“Ode to Joy” for tai no henko ichi  and ni, “Dance of the Hours” (”Hello mudder, hello fadder. Here I am in Camp Granada” kept running through my mind!) for elbow power No. 1 and 2, and - well, you get the idea.

Then he put on “Pennies From Heaven” and we did a few sit-down breakfalls. I started to get a bit irritated when he kept telling me to relax and be “light as a penny”, but it passed.

Finally, he put on “Carmina Burana” and declared “Now we practicejyu waza!” 

Oh well - at least he didn’t make me wear one of those Viking helmets…

K

It’s testing time at the dojo, and Aiki-Doh!-ka was sharing his observations about shinsa with me. Turns out he’s a bit of a balladeer as well as an aikido fiend, and he expressed himself in the form of a song:

“The Twelve Days of Shinsa“

(Sung to the tune of “The Twelve Days of Christmas”)

On the first day of shinsa, my sensei said to me,

“Are you sure you’re prepared to test?”

On the second day of shinsa, my sensei said to me,

“Think carefully, are you sure you’re prepared to test?”

On the third day of shinsa, my sensei said to me,

“That is not nikajo, think carefully, are you sure you’re prepared to test?”

On the fourth day of shinsa, my sensei said to me,

“Work on your ukemi, that is not nikajo, think carefully, are you sure you’re prepared to test?”

On the fifth day of shinsa, my sensei said to me,

“You call that kamae?

Work on your ukemi, that is not nikajo, think carefully, are you sure you’re prepared to test?”

On the sixth day of shinsa, my sensei said to me,

“More suriashi!

You call that kamae?

Work on your ukemi, that is not nikajo, think carefully, are you sure you’re prepared to test?”

On the seventh day of shinsa, my sensei said to me,

“Be a better uke, more suriashi!

You call that kamae?

Work on your ukemi, that is not nikajo, think carefully, are you sure you’re prepared to test?”

On the eighth day of shinsa, my sensei said to me,

“Why don’t you ki-ai, be a better uke, more suriashi!

You call that kamae?

Work on your ukemi, that is not nikajo, think carefully, are you sure you’re prepared to test?”

On the ninth day of shinsa, my sensei said to me,

“Keep moving forward, why don’t you ki-ai, be a better uke, more suriashi!

You call that kamae?

Work on your ukemi, that is not nikajo, think carefully, are you sure you’re prepared to test?”

On the tenth day of shinsa, my sensei said to me,

“It’s elbow power, keep moving forward, why don’t you ki-ai, be a better uke, more suriashi!

You call that kamae?

Work on your ukemi, that is not nikajo, think carefully, are you sure you’re prepared to test?”

On the eleventh day of shinsa, my sensei said to me,

“Stop using muscle, it’s elbow power, keep moving forward, why don’t you ki-ai, be a better uke, more suriashi!

You call that kamae?

Work on your ukemi, that is not nikajo, think carefully, are you sure you’re prepared to test?”

On the twelfth day of shinsa, my sensei said to me,

“Let’s see some zanshin, stop using muscle, it’s elbow power, keep moving forward, why don’t you ki-ai, be a better uke, more suriashi!

You call that kamae?

Work on your ukemi, that is not nikajo, think carefully, are you sure you’re prepared to test?”

Only one more sleep to testing day…

Kevin

I went over to help Aiki-Doh!-ka rake leaves the other day, and when no one answered the door, I wandered around back to see if he’d started without me. Sure enough, there he was, surrounded by small piles of leaves and practicing jo solo # 1 with his rake. When he saw me, he greeted me cheerfully and went to the garage to get a rake for me. We raked quietly and peacefully for a while until all of a sudden I was startled by a blood-curdling yell.

After checking my shorts, I turned around to see A-D grinning at me through a gentle rain of crimson and gold leaves.

“Aiki, what the…”

“I was scaring the leaves off the tree with a ki-ai,” he explained, going on to tell me that he wanted to get all  the leaves gathered up today.

“I came over for a peaceful afternoon A-D - gimme a break!”

He assured me he’d behave and we continued to work until we had the entire back yard tidied up, resulting in a humongous pile of leaves. I assumed we’d bag them all up, but Aiki-Doh!-ka insisted it was a perfect opportunity to practice hyaku ukemi. Well, I have to admit, it was kind of fun, although we had to do a bit more raking afterwards.

After we’d finished, he disappeared into the house - I presumed to get some beer - only to return carrying the mother of all pumpkins, his katana trailing from his belt.

“Now we practice do giri,”  he said, an eager grin splitting his face from ear to ear.

That, thank goodness, is when my cell phone rang…

Happy Halloween!

Kevin

Aiki-Doh!-ka and I were watching some old Monty Python reruns the other day, including the famous “Ministry of Silly Walks” skit with John Cleese, and it occurred to us that we should found a “Ministry of Silly Breakfalls”. There would be two categories: “Silly Breakfalls on the Mat” and “Silly Breakfalls off the Mat”.

Silly Breakfall # 37

The first would include, of course, all ukemi that go awry such as…well, maybe all ukemi. Highlights would include, though, ‘Toe nage’, most sit down breakfalls and any breakfalls with a weapon (intentional or otherwise).

Toe Nage

“Silly Breakfalls off the Mat” would collect the breakfalls of daily life such as falling off the couch when reaching for the remote, slipping in the shower (while singing “Sakura”) and our personal favourite, ladder ukemi (the ’silliest’ of these involve containers of paint). None of them would be eligible, however, unless there was an audience.

To register your Silly Breakfall, send us an email with all the details, perhaps a photo, and if possible, a copy of the hospital bill or insurance claim…

Kevin

I think Aiki-Doh!-ka may be doing too much aikido. I mean, it’s one thing to go to lots of classes and practice at home or in the park, but when it shows up in your daily routine, that might be a bit too much. Case in point:

I went to the supermarket with Aiki-Doh!-ka and after dropping him off at the door, I returned from parking the car to find him doing kihon dosa sotai dosa with a shopping cart.

I disentangled him from the cart and we entered the store. A-D stopped at the sushi booth just inside the door and began chatting in Japanese with the rather cute attendant. It was clear to me that he was trying to get a date, but if my rusty Japanese serves me, I think he asked her if he could drive her doorknobs to the park.

He was beaming, though, as we made our way into the produce department and then disappeared a few moments. When he returned, he was very excited and holding up a potato for me to see.

“Look at this potato! It looks just like O’Sensei!”  he blurted. I was grateful that he wasn’t bowing.

I managed to calm him down and manoeuvre him to the meat counter where we ordered a couple of custom cut steaks. As the butcher hacked off our order, A-D leaned over and whispered, “he should ki-ai when he does that.”

We moved on, travelling through the crowded aisles, Aiki doing as many evasions as possible, pausing now and then to take something off the shelf and executing elbow-power number two as he turned to place the items in the cart. At one point we encountered a man mopping the floor and A-D got into a lengthy discussion with him about the value of suriashi and the importance of moving from the hips. I have to give the guy credit, though; instead of getting mad, he just kept asking A-D to demonstrate after every exchange until the entire aisle was finished.

I suppose the last straw was when we were checking out and Aiki-Doh!-ka dared the cashier to snatch the coins from his hand…

A-D and I were on the sidelines taking a breather from some jiyu waza practice last Saturday. As we watched the action on the mat, we hit on the idea that it would be great to have a small stage band to add sound effects when we practice jiyu waza. Imagine this:

A cellist to play the “Jaws” suspense theme (or a raw-throated singer to caw the ‘war cry’ from “High Plains Drifter”) while the partners stand in kamae waiting for the command to begin… 

A bongo player to beat a tattoo while uke runs in to attack…

A cymbal crash as the titans clash… 

A tympani ’boing’ as shite throws uke…

More cymbals as uke lands and rolls (or bounces)…

An ironic sigh on the trombone as filler while the participants cue up for the next pass…

And of course at the end of the practice, two giant hooks would come out to pull the clowns, er, I mean aikidoka, off the mat.

Aiki-Doh!-ka and i were on the sidelines having a breather while we watched Moose-Doh!-ka go through his paces in jiyu waza. His uke was getting some major air on his breakfalls and I commented on this to A-D, suggesting that, in addition to being punishingly muscular, Moose must also be learning to extend his ki. 

“It’s not ki”, said Aiki, “it’s B.O. He never washes his gi”

“Yikes!” I responded.

“Yeah, I was his uke earlier, it was like grappling with a skunk. Uke is just trying to get clear as fast as he can so he can breathe again.”

I began to watch more closely, and realized that uke’s sankajo face was appearing on all the techniques that Moose was applying, and concluded that uke’s pain originated from another source, as A-D suggested.

“We’re going to have to take him out to the parking lot again and hose him off, just like last year, ” I said, dreading the thought. It took four of us applying yonkajo to all his limbs to hold him down. Not to mention the prolonged contact with the squirming, odorifous mass that was Moose-Doh!-ka. I walked over to Sensei to break the news, vowing to get dibbs on being the hose-holder this time…

We were practising rotary throws last night and I have to say that, despite a difficult beginning, A-D was looking pretty good. At the beginning of class, though, things were not going well: he looked like a cross between a whirling dervish and Edward Scissorhands going ballistic on a hedge. After class, I asked him how he managed to turn things around. As he sipped his beer and gathered his thoughts, I readied a napkin to take notes.

“Well, first of all I had to try all the things that didn’t work.”

“Like what,” I prompted.

“For shite or uke, ” he queried.

“Let’s start with shite.”

The following is the gist, based on my napkin note-taking, of what he said:

Things that can go Wrong for Shite:

1. Poorly executed block resulting in guiding uke’s strike into, say, your groin. 
2. Pivoting instead of cross-stepping back. Pivoting the other way won’t work either. 
3. Uke doesn’t agree with the direction you want to throw them. 
4. Losing your grip on uke’s hand/wrist/arm, or whatever you get hold of, causing it to ’sproing’ back into, say, your groin. 
5. Cutting too hard to the back of uke’s head, rendering them unconscious before they do that awesome breakfall that makes you look like you know what you’re doing.

Things that can go Wrong for Uke:

1. Shite jumps on your back and says “Giddy up”. 
2. Shite’s feet smell bad. 
3. Shite doesn’t agree with the direction you want to roll. 
4. Shite attaches a ‘kick me’ sign to your butt as you go by. 
5. Shite steps on your free hand just before he throws you.

Well, there you have it, direct from the mouth of Aiki-Doh!-ka (by way of a soggy napkin).

Osu!

Kevin