Archive for November, 2010

I’ll get him in astronomy…

Nov 30

Posted by James Coon in With Friends Like These… | No Comments

Yesterday I got snared into a discussion of advanced chemistry by a friend of mine, as we stood around watching the road-service guy work on his battery. And since my friend knows basically everything about chemistry, and I know basically nothing, he was winning handily.

The conversation turned ominously toward the specific chemical reactions required for the creation of acid deposits around battery posts. My contribution was feeble—while his involved the drawing of arcane strings of symbols down the side of my dusty Astro. All I remember is something about the formation of salts and how, um, the peptides got transmuted into Pepto Bismol…or something.

Kathy says not to worry about it. It’s just crud, and crud can only be dissolved with anti-crud.

Instructor’s class

Nov 30

Posted by James Coon in Martial Arts Memories | 17 Comments

When I was a newly minted karate teacher they pressured me to go to the “Instructor’s Class”, where, ostensibly, they taught you how to teach the martial arts. I already knew about that. I was a natural.

Then an overzealous beginning student accidently punched me in the mouth—and thought I was going to rip his arms off because of it. Not exactly the experience he was paying for. I went to the class.

It is virtually unheard of for a student to be hurt by his instructor. The instructor knows what he’s doing. And to effectively teach, he knows he must always remain closer to the student than he ever would ever remain to an opponent. It’s a dangerous place.

Thus, there is a technique that all good instructors are taught, or learn. It consists of using their arms, legs, hip, shoulder, a subtle shift of weight or posture, to stay just ahead of the student’s movements and in the correct position to diffuse, direct, and ultimately correct. It’s something that can be taught.

Years later, in my own “Instructor’s Class”, I did just that.

Fish sticks again?…

Nov 30

Posted by James Coon in The Sporting Line | No Comments

I once asked a fly fisherman why he used 10-pound line on 12-pound fish. Why not just use 12-pound line?

He said It’s not about the line. The real challenge is to get them to bite, bring them along gently, carefully, setting the hook; then get them into the boat before they even know what happened.

Oh, I said, it’s a lot like poker.

…And then after I catch them, I unhook them and let them swim away.

Okay, I said—so it’s not like poker.

Maybe a bad gene…

Nov 30

Posted by James Coon in General Musings | No Comments

I’ve got this odd thing going on: I don’t dislike someone just because they dislike me.

There are several people I like and admire, who would most certainly sock me in the jaw if I presented it within range. Rightfully so, I must sadly admit.

But if they came to me and asked a serious favor I would have no problem granting it. They’re trustworthy people.

I know; it’s odd.

At least no phone tree…

Nov 30

Posted by James Coon in Friends and Family | No Comments

I’ve gotta stay in touch with the family better. Today when I called my sister she said that for security purposes I’d have to give her the last 4 digits of my Social.

Comments awarded bonus points…

Nov 29

Posted by James Coon in General Musings | No Comments

I told a friend that those people who don’t visit my blog are always sorry, because then I pick on them. He asked, how do you know who isn’t reading?

I said, those would be the people not suing me.

Hope I die before I get old…

Nov 29

Posted by James Coon in General Musings | No Comments

When I was a was a young man in the Seventies, there was a saying going around, that somehow our generation felt we’d never die. Maybe it still goes around for this generation.

I always knew I would die. I just never thought I would get old.

A matter of degree…

Nov 26

Posted by James Coon in Family Ties | No Comments

My brother-in-law up in Boise tells me they had a cold snap overnight. Says it turned to 12° by the time he got up. I told him that if it turned to 12° around here, I’d turn 180° and go back to bed.

Where’s that ace?

Nov 26

Posted by James Coon in Figure the Odds | No Comments

So here we are playing poker. Kathy and Niece Robin and me. All night long I’m getting bupkis. Folding, losing. Getting bupkis. One time I tried to bluff my way through, and then had to show my bupkis.

Granted, I probably helps if you don’t go WOO! HOO! every time you draw a good card.

I gotta work on that.

Should get paid by the pound…

Nov 24

Posted by James Coon in Food and Drink | No Comments

My grocery delivery guy is prohibited from accepting tips, upon penalty of termination. And while his job is not exactly moving pianos, schlepping groceries all day is no fun. Especially since most people—like me—order the heavy liquid items for delivery, then buy salad greens at the store. This week it’s even worse; as everyone is buying turkeys and big cans of pumpkin.

Still, I always ask, even knowing what he’ll say. So tonight I did it different:

As he was headed out the door I indicated a ten dollar bill I was holding, and mentioned that I’d seen it blowing by like a leaf, while he was busy lugging in those six cases of water and two flats of on-sale apple juice we ordered. Since I was wearing sweats, I pointed out, I had no pockets. So it only stood to reason that it had fallen out of his.

He stared at me a minute, smiled, amd reminded me for the umteenth time me that he couldn’t accept tips. Then he wished me a Happy Thanksgiving, observed that we’d bought a good bird, and slid the bill in his shirt.