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Weekend Report
Jan. 10th, 2011 10:41 amFirst of all, I don't have much to say about the AZ shootings that many of my friends didn't already post instantly on Facebook. The only thing I would add to the discussion is that I have never known a "left-winger" who considers Mein Kampf a favorite. I've known plenty of people who have read it, even own it... but list it as a favorite? Not so much.
But the whole thing makes me so sick to my stomach that I'm going to, instead, focus on the entirely mundane.
To that end, I am pleased to report that Mason and I got our yellow stripes on Saturday. And, yes, the test really wasn't so much a "test" as a demonstration of what the instructors knew I (and Mason) was already capable of. That did not mean, however, that the test was EASY. In fact, it totally kicked my butt. My butt still hurts, and the entire house smells of Icy Heat. Sa bum nim said to me as he was putting the stripe on my belt at the ceremony, "That wasn't so bad, now was it?" And I laughed, "Are you kidding, sir? I've never done anything so hard in my entire life!"
But also great fun.
I'm actually looking forward to going back tonight and having my butt kicked AGAIN.
Also, in the realm of complete mindlessness, one of the things my family and I did on Sunday as a sort of post-stripe celebration was go to the bookstore to stock up on winter reading. We did our usual used book circuit, which includes HalfPrice Books and Sixth Chamber. I spent much of Sunday resting my aching muscles on the couch and reading various Avengers comics, which I'll review later. As I've posted on FB, I've been struck by a bunch of strange observations about various superheroes. Like, how many superheroes must smell like Icy Heat... or, how do you suppose Peter Parker explains all his bruises? Do you think he just does like my friend Bill Henry who would ocassionally show up to Wyrdsmiths with a black eye and mutter, "socceer" or "rugby," and lets people just assume he's not out crime fighting in the streets on his off hours? Or why is it that no one pulled this skinny, nerdy kid away from his Aunt May and asked him, "Do you need a SAFE PLACE???!"
Seriously.
I read one of Brubaker's Marvel Age issues about Pearl Harbor and the Invaders, and that just really got me thinking about my grandparents and about all the strange things Captain America probably says/does/eats because of the era he grew up in. My grandparents always had coffee after dinner ....and ate bread with butter, like as a side dish. I'm being told on FB that much of this is probably ethnic (particularly my example of liver and onions), but you've got to figure there's something that Cap used to ask Jarvis to make for dinner that had the rest of the Avengers groaning.
And does he smell like Old Spice?
I mean, you could not go into a grandparent's bathroom without seeing that white bottle with the blue ship on it. And old people just smelled -- not like "the man my man could smell like" -- but like my grandpa'a Old Spice!
So, yeah, this is the level of thought my brain is capable of today.
But the whole thing makes me so sick to my stomach that I'm going to, instead, focus on the entirely mundane.
To that end, I am pleased to report that Mason and I got our yellow stripes on Saturday. And, yes, the test really wasn't so much a "test" as a demonstration of what the instructors knew I (and Mason) was already capable of. That did not mean, however, that the test was EASY. In fact, it totally kicked my butt. My butt still hurts, and the entire house smells of Icy Heat. Sa bum nim said to me as he was putting the stripe on my belt at the ceremony, "That wasn't so bad, now was it?" And I laughed, "Are you kidding, sir? I've never done anything so hard in my entire life!"
But also great fun.
I'm actually looking forward to going back tonight and having my butt kicked AGAIN.
Also, in the realm of complete mindlessness, one of the things my family and I did on Sunday as a sort of post-stripe celebration was go to the bookstore to stock up on winter reading. We did our usual used book circuit, which includes HalfPrice Books and Sixth Chamber. I spent much of Sunday resting my aching muscles on the couch and reading various Avengers comics, which I'll review later. As I've posted on FB, I've been struck by a bunch of strange observations about various superheroes. Like, how many superheroes must smell like Icy Heat... or, how do you suppose Peter Parker explains all his bruises? Do you think he just does like my friend Bill Henry who would ocassionally show up to Wyrdsmiths with a black eye and mutter, "socceer" or "rugby," and lets people just assume he's not out crime fighting in the streets on his off hours? Or why is it that no one pulled this skinny, nerdy kid away from his Aunt May and asked him, "Do you need a SAFE PLACE???!"
Seriously.
I read one of Brubaker's Marvel Age issues about Pearl Harbor and the Invaders, and that just really got me thinking about my grandparents and about all the strange things Captain America probably says/does/eats because of the era he grew up in. My grandparents always had coffee after dinner ....and ate bread with butter, like as a side dish. I'm being told on FB that much of this is probably ethnic (particularly my example of liver and onions), but you've got to figure there's something that Cap used to ask Jarvis to make for dinner that had the rest of the Avengers groaning.
And does he smell like Old Spice?
I mean, you could not go into a grandparent's bathroom without seeing that white bottle with the blue ship on it. And old people just smelled -- not like "the man my man could smell like" -- but like my grandpa'a Old Spice!
So, yeah, this is the level of thought my brain is capable of today.
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