SongBird/Gasping Fish with a Major Left Hook
SongBird = Dying Fish
So we didn't win the Figgy Pudding this year.
Honestly, I'm not that fussed. We sounded better than the two groups who made it to the final competition and I really can't get all that upset at judges who clearly don't have much musical distinction. (Wow, choir girl snob rides again).
THe one cool thing was that we were on tv. Not that I knew this (can't watch what I don't have), but I found out on Tuesday when I walked into the Bluestar for drinks with my Bike Group. Paul, lead contender in the "most tattoos of anyone I know" division, started clapping and saying Hi there, songbird! Apparantly the Figgy Pudding made the news and Paul proceeded to do a (alarmingly accurate) impression of either:
A) me singing, or
B) a gasping fish out of water.
Anyway, getting on tv for something non-criminal is always a good.
Left Hook
Further in my list of positive things (I'm trying to focus on the good here, folks) I had a major compliment in boxing class last night. Instead of working out with the cute new guy, I was paired up with kinda-scary-intense-guy. I love boxing, but this guy was always a little too.. um... focused.. for my comfort. So I was a little trepiditious at the prospect of keeping up with him for the class.
Turned out to be an excellent class. Once we got into the ring and he was holding the focus shield while I worked on straight punches and hooks -- he did something novel: he told me to hit him. TOtal FightClub moment, folks.
Yup. Full on. He told me to go ahead and practice my hooks on his ribs -- though he did ask that I refrain from going full bore. It took him a little convincing to get me to do it, but it was actually very educational. Landing punches on the *actual* human torso is far cry from hitting the heavy bags, the focus shields and even the odd bout that lets you slip a punch past your opponents guard. He was essentially letting me learn the effectiveness of angle and force as it related to the different planes of his lateral lines (while he focused on absorbing punches).
It was funny, 'cause up until this exercise, he really hadn't been taking me very seriously. Once I started to actually hit him, you could really see the change come over his face. And he was so honest and enthusiastic in his compliments. For the rest of the practice he couldn't get over my left hook. He told me that I really had a "major weapon" in my left hook and that my powerhand straight was excellent. Honestly, I was red-faced, not just from over-exertion from the heavy bags, but from all the compliments.
Sure there are not so pleasant things going on in Trenchland and the panic attacks are coming back... but sometimes the good doesn't get any better than this.
So we didn't win the Figgy Pudding this year.
Honestly, I'm not that fussed. We sounded better than the two groups who made it to the final competition and I really can't get all that upset at judges who clearly don't have much musical distinction. (Wow, choir girl snob rides again).
THe one cool thing was that we were on tv. Not that I knew this (can't watch what I don't have), but I found out on Tuesday when I walked into the Bluestar for drinks with my Bike Group. Paul, lead contender in the "most tattoos of anyone I know" division, started clapping and saying Hi there, songbird! Apparantly the Figgy Pudding made the news and Paul proceeded to do a (alarmingly accurate) impression of either:
A) me singing, or
B) a gasping fish out of water.
Anyway, getting on tv for something non-criminal is always a good.
Left Hook
Further in my list of positive things (I'm trying to focus on the good here, folks) I had a major compliment in boxing class last night. Instead of working out with the cute new guy, I was paired up with kinda-scary-intense-guy. I love boxing, but this guy was always a little too.. um... focused.. for my comfort. So I was a little trepiditious at the prospect of keeping up with him for the class.
Turned out to be an excellent class. Once we got into the ring and he was holding the focus shield while I worked on straight punches and hooks -- he did something novel: he told me to hit him. TOtal FightClub moment, folks.
Yup. Full on. He told me to go ahead and practice my hooks on his ribs -- though he did ask that I refrain from going full bore. It took him a little convincing to get me to do it, but it was actually very educational. Landing punches on the *actual* human torso is far cry from hitting the heavy bags, the focus shields and even the odd bout that lets you slip a punch past your opponents guard. He was essentially letting me learn the effectiveness of angle and force as it related to the different planes of his lateral lines (while he focused on absorbing punches).
It was funny, 'cause up until this exercise, he really hadn't been taking me very seriously. Once I started to actually hit him, you could really see the change come over his face. And he was so honest and enthusiastic in his compliments. For the rest of the practice he couldn't get over my left hook. He told me that I really had a "major weapon" in my left hook and that my powerhand straight was excellent. Honestly, I was red-faced, not just from over-exertion from the heavy bags, but from all the compliments.
Sure there are not so pleasant things going on in Trenchland and the panic attacks are coming back... but sometimes the good doesn't get any better than this.