Friday, June 09, 2006
Knowing What You Are Not
I know what I am and what I am not. One of the "nots" being graceful. Me and Miz Grace have a distant and rather chilly relationship. I tried dancing again last night, entirely sober which is bad because although EtOH does not make me more graceful it does nullify my already low inhibitions. My pretty partner almost died of hilarity-induced abdominal spasm, that is, she almost bust a gut laughing. The management called an ambulance and a priest since they weren't sure if this was seizure activity or possession.
My problems with grace are not because I'm that uncoordinated, I can knock a glass off the shelf and catch it before it hits the countertop. On other occasions I can hit a wall and then miss the person I'm about to trample due to my altered trajectory. In other words in action I'm a klutz and in reaction I'm frigging Neo. In grade school I was the god of dodge ball, I couldn't hit anyone worth a damn but I could move like mercury on a hot skillet. The only time I could hit anyone is in other sports when I was throwing the ball back and I'd catch the one guy who wasn't looking -- in the head. When I first started sport jiu-jitsu one of my friends noted, "Your instructor wrestles like cat, your more like dog." To this day I'm like a Great Dane worrying a chew toy on the mat. Limbs everywhere, head down. I'll come out a competition feeling great and then watch the video, it's supposed to be a coordinated game of kinetic chess, instead its slightly nauseating.
My problems with grace are not because I'm that uncoordinated, I can knock a glass off the shelf and catch it before it hits the countertop. On other occasions I can hit a wall and then miss the person I'm about to trample due to my altered trajectory. In other words in action I'm a klutz and in reaction I'm frigging Neo. In grade school I was the god of dodge ball, I couldn't hit anyone worth a damn but I could move like mercury on a hot skillet. The only time I could hit anyone is in other sports when I was throwing the ball back and I'd catch the one guy who wasn't looking -- in the head. When I first started sport jiu-jitsu one of my friends noted, "Your instructor wrestles like cat, your more like dog." To this day I'm like a Great Dane worrying a chew toy on the mat. Limbs everywhere, head down. I'll come out a competition feeling great and then watch the video, it's supposed to be a coordinated game of kinetic chess, instead its slightly nauseating.
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