A self-satirical train wreck that you can witness word by word...
And for those who doubt my son Armand Bovoso, indeed he is part Black. I'm Black and Italian. Armand is Black, italian, and Ukranian Jewish. Send me an email if you can't accept this.
And for those who doubt my son Armand Bovoso, indeed he is part Black. I'm Black and Italian. Armand is Black, italian, and Ukranian Jewish. Send me an email if you can't accept this.
At Lennox Hill Camp there were a few Camp Counselors who seemed to transcend their genre of expertise. Not just famous around Lennox Hill Camp were these individuals but infamous.
There was Scooby. Scooby was the complexion of a Hershey's chocolate bar with skin as smooth to boot. Scooby would ask us if we wanted to see the dark side of the moon and then sure enough he would turn around, walk away, and drop his pants for all to see. Scooby's famous saying was "And you can get it for a dollar ninety-nine." He would say this in a carnival barker/W.C. Fields voice.
There was Carlos. Carlos was insane. Benevolently so but definitely insane. On my very first trip to Lennox Hill camp I was sat down in Carlos's group. "Hi, I'm Carlos", he said to me as he introduced himself. "Fuck to the East, Fuck to the West, Fuck with me and you're fucking with the best." Talk about an icebreaker. I remember one night when dressed as a pirate for our annual costume party Carlos could be seen in our bunk chasing a bee out with his sword. You didn't mess with Carlos. The kids in his care gave him nooooooo problems.
There was Fran. Fran was a very obese and kind hearted man. He also had a quick temper. I was told by my brother one summer that Fran was gay. I'm not sure if this was just rumor or not but given how I was raised it was easy to accept as reality. Fran took the brunt of all the fat jokes the camp kids had to offer.
There was our resident naturalist named Dan. Dan the Nature Man. "Dan, Dan, the nature man, can put gorillas in garbage cans." Dan had a fascinating knowledge. I was taken with the different types of bug and reptile life in Connecticut when I was at Lennox Hill. There wasn't an animal or insect that Dan couldn't identify or tell you about. I remember one summer being taken on a blind nature tour where we had to make our way through the woods guided by him but tethered together by rope and blind folded. At the end of the tour we were given a mystery leaf to hold which we were all told was poison oak. Boy were we all pissed. He assured us that as long as we didn't touch our faces we would be fine. Ugh. I'm still pissed. That was the only negative feeling I ever had towards Dan.
Finally when I was in Boys 3 I had two counselors who's names I can't remember anymore (I think it might have been Jim and Johan). Every summer we got to go of into the woods and have a camp out for a day or two. These were always adventurous and felt like the real out doors experience. One this one outing we were deep into the woods. Every once in awhile we could hear the sounds of the outside world. I distinctly remember hearing a motorcycle in the distance making it's chainsaw like noise. One of our counselors told us that they had to get something and that he would be right back. After 5 or so minutes we were starting to wonder what had happened to him. Suddenly we heard a loud crack and a yell.
"Ahhhhhhhh!!!!! Johan!!!! Help me!!!!!!"
*crack* *crack* *crack*
Johan stood up and ran into the woods after Jim.
"Jim!! I'm coming!!! Hold on!!!"
*crack* *crack* *crack*
"AAAAHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!", we then heard Jim yell.
We were scared white. Kids were clining to each other some crying for their mothers. There was total pandemonium amongst the ranks. My response was to delve into temporary insanity and start acting like a mental patient.
"OK. I am now going crazy!", I said to myself. I kept up some type of cuckoo's Nest monologue up until we realized that it had gotten very quiet. We all shut up. You could hear a pin drop. In the distance we saw two figures emerging out of the mist. The one street kid who was with us, Jaime, jumped down to him stomach and crawled GI Joe style over to the figures.
Of course it was Jim and Johan. When we all saw their faces we broke into tears. We were fucking furious at them. We honestly though they had been killed and that we were next.
We swore that we were going to tell Walter (the camp director) what had happened when we got back. Somehow that never happened.
There was Scooby. Scooby was the complexion of a Hershey's chocolate bar with skin as smooth to boot. Scooby would ask us if we wanted to see the dark side of the moon and then sure enough he would turn around, walk away, and drop his pants for all to see. Scooby's famous saying was "And you can get it for a dollar ninety-nine." He would say this in a carnival barker/W.C. Fields voice.
There was Carlos. Carlos was insane. Benevolently so but definitely insane. On my very first trip to Lennox Hill camp I was sat down in Carlos's group. "Hi, I'm Carlos", he said to me as he introduced himself. "Fuck to the East, Fuck to the West, Fuck with me and you're fucking with the best." Talk about an icebreaker. I remember one night when dressed as a pirate for our annual costume party Carlos could be seen in our bunk chasing a bee out with his sword. You didn't mess with Carlos. The kids in his care gave him nooooooo problems.
There was Fran. Fran was a very obese and kind hearted man. He also had a quick temper. I was told by my brother one summer that Fran was gay. I'm not sure if this was just rumor or not but given how I was raised it was easy to accept as reality. Fran took the brunt of all the fat jokes the camp kids had to offer.
There was our resident naturalist named Dan. Dan the Nature Man. "Dan, Dan, the nature man, can put gorillas in garbage cans." Dan had a fascinating knowledge. I was taken with the different types of bug and reptile life in Connecticut when I was at Lennox Hill. There wasn't an animal or insect that Dan couldn't identify or tell you about. I remember one summer being taken on a blind nature tour where we had to make our way through the woods guided by him but tethered together by rope and blind folded. At the end of the tour we were given a mystery leaf to hold which we were all told was poison oak. Boy were we all pissed. He assured us that as long as we didn't touch our faces we would be fine. Ugh. I'm still pissed. That was the only negative feeling I ever had towards Dan.
Finally when I was in Boys 3 I had two counselors who's names I can't remember anymore (I think it might have been Jim and Johan). Every summer we got to go of into the woods and have a camp out for a day or two. These were always adventurous and felt like the real out doors experience. One this one outing we were deep into the woods. Every once in awhile we could hear the sounds of the outside world. I distinctly remember hearing a motorcycle in the distance making it's chainsaw like noise. One of our counselors told us that they had to get something and that he would be right back. After 5 or so minutes we were starting to wonder what had happened to him. Suddenly we heard a loud crack and a yell.
"Ahhhhhhhh!!!!! Johan!!!! Help me!!!!!!"
*crack* *crack* *crack*
Johan stood up and ran into the woods after Jim.
"Jim!! I'm coming!!! Hold on!!!"
*crack* *crack* *crack*
"AAAAHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!", we then heard Jim yell.
We were scared white. Kids were clining to each other some crying for their mothers. There was total pandemonium amongst the ranks. My response was to delve into temporary insanity and start acting like a mental patient.
"OK. I am now going crazy!", I said to myself. I kept up some type of cuckoo's Nest monologue up until we realized that it had gotten very quiet. We all shut up. You could hear a pin drop. In the distance we saw two figures emerging out of the mist. The one street kid who was with us, Jaime, jumped down to him stomach and crawled GI Joe style over to the figures.
Of course it was Jim and Johan. When we all saw their faces we broke into tears. We were fucking furious at them. We honestly though they had been killed and that we were next.
We swore that we were going to tell Walter (the camp director) what had happened when we got back. Somehow that never happened.
I'm on a plain
I can't complain
The finest day
That I ever had
Was when I learned
To cry on demand
Love myself
Better than you
I know it's wrong
What can I do?
-Nirvana
These immortal lyrics written by Kurt Cobain and permormed by Nirvana hold deep meaning to those who have been on mood altering drugs. Not the kind that you buy from a dealer but the kind that your doctor prescribes for you. Your psychiatrist most likely.
I recently had a major event in my life where my psychiatrist asked me why I had a problem with keeping my appointments. I explained to her my life long struggle with what I learned several years ago was Attention Deficit Disorder. On the spot she suggested trying a typical ADD medication. Eagerly I agreed to try this out. Anything was better than continuing this curse. I was actually at the visit to talk about the Zoloft that I had been taking for the last year. Zoloft had done it's job well enough. It had gotten me through the panic attacks I was experiencing in 2005. At this point the side effects were getting in the way of living a happy life. If my oldest son didn't read this blog from time to time I might explain more. She asked how I was feeling and honestly I was feeling OK having been over Zoloft for a week. She told me to stop with the Zoloft and to try the new meds.
Like a super hero to the rescue. Look up in my hand, it's speed, it's a pill, it's Wonder Drug! Well it's actually named Concerta. Concerta is now my new hero. It's a controlled dose of speed that allows me to focus on tasks at hand and not forget that I am in the middle of them. I now understand how and why speed freaks stay up for days and try and write novels or take apart cars just to see if they can. The controlled dose that I take allows me to focus just enough to get everyday life tasks done without feeling overwhelmed. My main side effect is that I get sped up a bit sometimes and my sleeping patterns can be a bit off. When I speed up I do my best to slow myself down by concentration on shutting the fuck up. Sleep patterns aren't so bad due to the fact that I create my own schedule. If I'm compelled to stay awake I just make sure I devote the time to work.
More on my chemical calithenics as they develop.
I can't complain
The finest day
That I ever had
Was when I learned
To cry on demand
Love myself
Better than you
I know it's wrong
What can I do?
-Nirvana
These immortal lyrics written by Kurt Cobain and permormed by Nirvana hold deep meaning to those who have been on mood altering drugs. Not the kind that you buy from a dealer but the kind that your doctor prescribes for you. Your psychiatrist most likely.
I recently had a major event in my life where my psychiatrist asked me why I had a problem with keeping my appointments. I explained to her my life long struggle with what I learned several years ago was Attention Deficit Disorder. On the spot she suggested trying a typical ADD medication. Eagerly I agreed to try this out. Anything was better than continuing this curse. I was actually at the visit to talk about the Zoloft that I had been taking for the last year. Zoloft had done it's job well enough. It had gotten me through the panic attacks I was experiencing in 2005. At this point the side effects were getting in the way of living a happy life. If my oldest son didn't read this blog from time to time I might explain more. She asked how I was feeling and honestly I was feeling OK having been over Zoloft for a week. She told me to stop with the Zoloft and to try the new meds.
Like a super hero to the rescue. Look up in my hand, it's speed, it's a pill, it's Wonder Drug! Well it's actually named Concerta. Concerta is now my new hero. It's a controlled dose of speed that allows me to focus on tasks at hand and not forget that I am in the middle of them. I now understand how and why speed freaks stay up for days and try and write novels or take apart cars just to see if they can. The controlled dose that I take allows me to focus just enough to get everyday life tasks done without feeling overwhelmed. My main side effect is that I get sped up a bit sometimes and my sleeping patterns can be a bit off. When I speed up I do my best to slow myself down by concentration on shutting the fuck up. Sleep patterns aren't so bad due to the fact that I create my own schedule. If I'm compelled to stay awake I just make sure I devote the time to work.
More on my chemical calithenics as they develop.
It's been a long month.
Injuries, hospital visits, emergency room stays, full contact matches, and a major move.
Alicia and I had an opportunity to buy a house through the help of her sister. The possibility came up very fast. After an exhaustive search we were able to find a beautiful house in the city of Lynwood. I had never heard of the place but it was an opportunity to own again.
After an exhausting move that lasted two weeks and took place in the worst heat wave seen in Los Angeles in many decades, we were finally done. The next morning I took my youngest son to childcare. Needing to run some errands I took my time getting home.
Upon arriving home I noticed that the realtors sign was still up and decided to take it down. I noticed that my gate was open but didn't read too much into it as meter readers and mail carriers aren't always very courteous. As I was taking the sign down a sheriff's car passed me by. I made eye contact with him and he drove away. Suddenly I was approached by one of my new neighbors. He began the conversation in Spanish as most people mistakenly view me as Latino. (I'm Black and Sicilian for those who don't know). I told him politely that I didn't understand him. The rest of the conversation went something like this:
Neighbor: Do, eh, two eh-black live here?
Me: Uh, excuse me?
Neighbor: I eh-see two, how you say? Knee-gers?
Me: So what the hell are you trying to say man?
Neighbor: Oh, noting but two eh-guy come in and take stuff.
Me: What?? Wait one minute! Thank you!
I run inside the house only to see that the door had been kicked open. Stuff had been stolen. Our new house violated. So far what has been noticed missing is two laptops, a portable DVD player, my iPod, and some jewelry.
Ugh.
Hell of a way to top off a move.
At the same time my mind really can't wrap it's head around the problem. There is a great episode of the Sopranos entitled "Unidentified Black Males" where made up black men are made the scapegoats for all the crimes committed in the episode. Very well written.
I can't help but think that my next door neighbor's nephew is right now listening to all the Richard Pryor albums I had just downloaded.
Injuries, hospital visits, emergency room stays, full contact matches, and a major move.
Alicia and I had an opportunity to buy a house through the help of her sister. The possibility came up very fast. After an exhaustive search we were able to find a beautiful house in the city of Lynwood. I had never heard of the place but it was an opportunity to own again.
After an exhausting move that lasted two weeks and took place in the worst heat wave seen in Los Angeles in many decades, we were finally done. The next morning I took my youngest son to childcare. Needing to run some errands I took my time getting home.
Upon arriving home I noticed that the realtors sign was still up and decided to take it down. I noticed that my gate was open but didn't read too much into it as meter readers and mail carriers aren't always very courteous. As I was taking the sign down a sheriff's car passed me by. I made eye contact with him and he drove away. Suddenly I was approached by one of my new neighbors. He began the conversation in Spanish as most people mistakenly view me as Latino. (I'm Black and Sicilian for those who don't know). I told him politely that I didn't understand him. The rest of the conversation went something like this:
Neighbor: Do, eh, two eh-black live here?
Me: Uh, excuse me?
Neighbor: I eh-see two, how you say? Knee-gers?
Me: So what the hell are you trying to say man?
Neighbor: Oh, noting but two eh-guy come in and take stuff.
Me: What?? Wait one minute! Thank you!
I run inside the house only to see that the door had been kicked open. Stuff had been stolen. Our new house violated. So far what has been noticed missing is two laptops, a portable DVD player, my iPod, and some jewelry.
Ugh.
Hell of a way to top off a move.
At the same time my mind really can't wrap it's head around the problem. There is a great episode of the Sopranos entitled "Unidentified Black Males" where made up black men are made the scapegoats for all the crimes committed in the episode. Very well written.
I can't help but think that my next door neighbor's nephew is right now listening to all the Richard Pryor albums I had just downloaded.
Over a year ago I posted about my summer camp experiences at Lenox Hill Camp in Litchfield Connecticut. The post went by with no fanfare whatsoever. My usual blog readers scratched their head and figured I was having an off day at the keyboard. The truth was that I really intended to post for other friends and survivors of Lenox Hill. It was such a wonderful and unique place. Check here for the original.
A few days ago in the middle of my move into my new house I get a letter by not just someone who went to the camp but from the director (our god on Mount Olympus) Walter himself!
The last time I saw Walter was my very last day I ever attended Lenox Hill. Our entire group (boys 4) went over to his air conditioned hut and sung him a voracious wake up version of "The Lord Said to Noah". I remember having my staff in hand as I banged on where I imagined his bed might have been on the other side of the wall.
Walter was the most even tempered and good natured man. The camp was always exciting and progressive with him in charge. He's asked me to post more stories so here goes. Anything for a man who helped me become who I am today.
Every night at dinner (and middays at lunch) we would sing songs of grace which were for the most part pretty fun. One of my favorite was Praise Be, sung to the tune of Windy by The Association.
Praise be to God the Father Almighty
Praise be to God who gave us the earth
Praise be to God the spirit eternal
Praise be to God forever
There were about 5-10 songs that we could choose to sing. Every day a different table would get to choose the song to be sung. Our tables were all assigned to us at the beginning of the year. It was a great time to get to know different people and counselors at the camp.
My last summer there led to some amazing experiences. Falling in love for the first time being one of them. I don't' think the girl even knew. One of the counselors Fran (a gentle obese man who studied and sung opera) took me aside one night in my grief of feelings and gave me m first talk about relationships. Every single thing Fran told me turned out to be true for the rest of my life.
One night while fighting in our bunks (those of us in Boys 4 that is) a kid named James Brown (A white kid no less. It was 1981 and the kid had been born in 1969. His parents had to know.) started calling one of us a "faggot". We all agreed that this was not cool. "Besides", I said. "My father is gay and I don't appreciated it." Much to my surprise one of my bunk mates jumped up and said "Mine too!"
Little did I know that my experience with the world's openness of this subject had just peaked.
More to come....
A few days ago in the middle of my move into my new house I get a letter by not just someone who went to the camp but from the director (our god on Mount Olympus) Walter himself!
The last time I saw Walter was my very last day I ever attended Lenox Hill. Our entire group (boys 4) went over to his air conditioned hut and sung him a voracious wake up version of "The Lord Said to Noah". I remember having my staff in hand as I banged on where I imagined his bed might have been on the other side of the wall.
Walter was the most even tempered and good natured man. The camp was always exciting and progressive with him in charge. He's asked me to post more stories so here goes. Anything for a man who helped me become who I am today.
Every night at dinner (and middays at lunch) we would sing songs of grace which were for the most part pretty fun. One of my favorite was Praise Be, sung to the tune of Windy by The Association.
Praise be to God the Father Almighty
Praise be to God who gave us the earth
Praise be to God the spirit eternal
Praise be to God forever
There were about 5-10 songs that we could choose to sing. Every day a different table would get to choose the song to be sung. Our tables were all assigned to us at the beginning of the year. It was a great time to get to know different people and counselors at the camp.
My last summer there led to some amazing experiences. Falling in love for the first time being one of them. I don't' think the girl even knew. One of the counselors Fran (a gentle obese man who studied and sung opera) took me aside one night in my grief of feelings and gave me m first talk about relationships. Every single thing Fran told me turned out to be true for the rest of my life.
One night while fighting in our bunks (those of us in Boys 4 that is) a kid named James Brown (A white kid no less. It was 1981 and the kid had been born in 1969. His parents had to know.) started calling one of us a "faggot". We all agreed that this was not cool. "Besides", I said. "My father is gay and I don't appreciated it." Much to my surprise one of my bunk mates jumped up and said "Mine too!"
Little did I know that my experience with the world's openness of this subject had just peaked.
More to come....
The Mooninites were by far my favorites of the expo. "I'm doing this as hard as I can. I hope he can see me."
A big sword gets you all the chicks at the Expo. Hey, wait a minute. That's my daughter!!
I'm not cool enough to know who she is. She does look cool though.
For his size the guy had some big balls.
Don't tell my wife but I glomped her.
Can you believe they had the nerve to be cranky at the end of they day? Here was the tally: Kids out zero dollars, Daddy out three hundred. And that didn't even include the price of admission.
I tell you the Anime Expo in Anaheim was a blast. Anime people are the new hippies. They just are there to have fun. There was none of the "too cool for the room because I'm trying to impress Kevin Smith" vibe that you find at every last comic book show. People were very mellow, some just holding up "hug me" or "I'm a demon child looking for my mother" signs. Very mellow.
I left my daughter and her friend alone for much of the expo as it was a really safe place (with the exception of the Bonaduce scare. ;-) ) Besides she had her cell phone on and I was checking in with them every few minutes. Towards the end of the show I get a call from Ari telling me that they were upstairs. I had explicitly told them not to leave the downstairs floor. I couldn't be that mad but I figured it was time to bring the rope in a bit. I asked Ari to come down stairs. When she got there her friend was not with her. Apparently her friend refused to listen and wanted to stay where she was. (oh hell no...)
When I got upstairs with Ari there was her friend who had happened to find the most rebellious goth kids at the event. She was sitting down and flirting with one of them in her geisha outfit. Quite a contrast to the dirty black look of the goths.
A couple of interesting stories later (to be told later) I whisk the kids away and make for the car to go home. I over hear Ari's friend saying "Jesse was sooooo cool. But I have a boyfriend, oh well." I didn't exactly know where to start with this. First of all it's not every day you hear a 12 year old contemplating cheating on her boyfriend. Second of all Jesse was a biological girl who was identifying as a boy. Whether or not she really identified as a boy was in question. I more got the sense that she was the kind of girl who got off on making other girls belive she was a guy so that she could fool around with them. I've known many girls like that.
"No! Jesse was a boy! He was sooooo coooool!"
"Of course he was cool! He's on drugs and he's a girl! He knows all the right things to say." My retort got quite a laugh from Ari's mother later on that night.
Here's a picture of Jesse. You decide.
Aftermath:
I got a big kick out of talking to Ari about this a couple of days later. She told me that her friend had resigned to my analysis of the situation and said: "Well if Jesse is a girl then I guess I like girls."
This is one cool generation.
I left my daughter and her friend alone for much of the expo as it was a really safe place (with the exception of the Bonaduce scare. ;-) ) Besides she had her cell phone on and I was checking in with them every few minutes. Towards the end of the show I get a call from Ari telling me that they were upstairs. I had explicitly told them not to leave the downstairs floor. I couldn't be that mad but I figured it was time to bring the rope in a bit. I asked Ari to come down stairs. When she got there her friend was not with her. Apparently her friend refused to listen and wanted to stay where she was. (oh hell no...)
When I got upstairs with Ari there was her friend who had happened to find the most rebellious goth kids at the event. She was sitting down and flirting with one of them in her geisha outfit. Quite a contrast to the dirty black look of the goths.
A couple of interesting stories later (to be told later) I whisk the kids away and make for the car to go home. I over hear Ari's friend saying "Jesse was sooooo cool. But I have a boyfriend, oh well." I didn't exactly know where to start with this. First of all it's not every day you hear a 12 year old contemplating cheating on her boyfriend. Second of all Jesse was a biological girl who was identifying as a boy. Whether or not she really identified as a boy was in question. I more got the sense that she was the kind of girl who got off on making other girls belive she was a guy so that she could fool around with them. I've known many girls like that.
"No! Jesse was a boy! He was sooooo coooool!"
"Of course he was cool! He's on drugs and he's a girl! He knows all the right things to say." My retort got quite a laugh from Ari's mother later on that night.
Here's a picture of Jesse. You decide.
Aftermath:
I got a big kick out of talking to Ari about this a couple of days later. She told me that her friend had resigned to my analysis of the situation and said: "Well if Jesse is a girl then I guess I like girls."
This is one cool generation.
So, while at the Anime Expo I happened to see Danny Bonaduce walk by as I was eating some lunch. For those of you who are Bonaduce-philes you might know that he holds a 3rd degree black belt in karate. I've always wanted to talk to him about training and maybe invite him down to the dojo to train with us one night. Given his insane lifestyle I've always wondered what he thought his life would be like without training. Would it be worse? The same?
As I was contemplating getting up to go and speak with him I noticed that he wasn't alone. He had his daughter with him. Now, I tend to leave celebrities alone but if I see them with their kids I definitely give them their space. Being a parent I can only imagine how stressful that must be having strangers in your face when you're trying to look out for your children. I let them pass by figuring that fate might bring our paths together on another day.
Low and behold my daughter gets ahold of him when I'm not looking and takes a pic with his arms around her shoulder. Ugh.
Gloves are off Danny Partridge. Next time it's no more Mr. Nice Sensei. Eye for an eye. I'm talking to you, your kids, and your hot wife. And I'm leaving my daughter at home from now on.
I went to the anime expo with my kids today...
Published Tuesday, July 04, 2006 by Alessandro Ashanti.
OK. I was all set to post some great observations of the incredible time I had at the Anime Expo 2006 today. Armand was dressed as a Samurai and Ari and one of her friends as Geisha. Their outfits were wonderful.
When we got home I had lots to write about. So I decided to unload my digital camera and low and behold my heart stopped.
I left her alone for 15 fucking minutes only to find out later that she'd been arm to arm with Danny Bonaduce. (!!!!!!) OK. Lesson learned! Never let your kids out of your site. Bonaduce... Be afraid... Be very afraid...
When we got home I had lots to write about. So I decided to unload my digital camera and low and behold my heart stopped.
I left her alone for 15 fucking minutes only to find out later that she'd been arm to arm with Danny Bonaduce. (!!!!!!) OK. Lesson learned! Never let your kids out of your site. Bonaduce... Be afraid... Be very afraid...
Wednesday night one of our new students suffered a very serious injury at the dojo. There was no negligence on anyone's part it was just simply one of those freak accidents. David Klein, who is also a member of this list long before he began training with us, suffered a broken Tibia and Fibia bone in his left leg. While attempting a throw his foot became stuck and his uke landed directly on his calf causing both bones to fracture and his tibia to break through his skin. This was a very horrific experience but I was very glad that I was in a room full of martial artists. As I attended to David to see how bad things were most students kept on training as I've taught them to do when there is any kind of injury in the dojo. The philosophy of there being too many cooks and giving people something to do. Also I maintain a philosophy of students staying in action in the midst of fallen friends as turning to suddenly help someone in a real situation can wind up with both people dead. Defend yourself first. We keep the job to the sensei and the training partner to look after the injured party. This however was a case where the injury was so serious I needed every single person to help in one way or another. Total focus was needed in the dojo. I immediately began reiki and I knelt down next to him and asked one student to call 911. I had another student go and get my emergency procedures manual (Every teacher should have one of these handy. The one I use is from here: http://aikidofaq.com/health/emergency.html). I had another student come over and perform more reiki as I did my best to comfort David. I then had someone get wet paper towels, another to get cleaning supplies out and ready as the mat was collecting large amounts of blood. 3 more students went out and stood on the corners to flag the ambulance down. I also had yet another person check on David's uke who I knew would be distraught over the event. The paramedics finally came after what felt like an eternity (it was probably no more than 10 minutes though) and I rode with them and David to the hospital. To shorten the story, we stayed with him in the emergency room and sent someone to pick up his grandmother who wanted to be there with him. David went into surgery this afternoon and was told by the doctor that he will make a full recovery.
As for David, he was in about as much pain as I've ever seen anyone in my life. Just the same one of his first concerns was that he wouldn't be able to train. I told him that I could teach him in a wheel chair if he needed. He was very relieved to hear this. He even told me that not for nothing but his uke better damn well pass his black belt test he had coming up on Sunday. That was too funny at the time.
I was so impressed by David's spirit. Here is a student who had only been in 3 classes up to this point. He had just moved in from out of town and hadn't even started a new job yet. Laying in the emergency room he had every reason to lash out. Instead he started up a conversation that allowed us to get to know each other better. We exchanged stories about cooking and good sake, and beer. We even talked about training.
He's in for a 9 month full recovery of his leg and will be out of the hospital by Sunday. The surgeon told him that the operation was a complete success and that he will have no problem with the leg.
I spent a good part of today interfacing with the hospital and my insurance companies to make sure that David never sees a bill. I really learned the importance of having a insurance that not only covers liability but also covers medical bills as well. If there the hospital bill surpasses my insured limit I will be holding a fundraiser to cover the rest of the cost.
For any of you that are healers please send your prayers and healing to David. I will continue to hold him in my consciousness and send him reiki as well.
As for David, he was in about as much pain as I've ever seen anyone in my life. Just the same one of his first concerns was that he wouldn't be able to train. I told him that I could teach him in a wheel chair if he needed. He was very relieved to hear this. He even told me that not for nothing but his uke better damn well pass his black belt test he had coming up on Sunday. That was too funny at the time.
I was so impressed by David's spirit. Here is a student who had only been in 3 classes up to this point. He had just moved in from out of town and hadn't even started a new job yet. Laying in the emergency room he had every reason to lash out. Instead he started up a conversation that allowed us to get to know each other better. We exchanged stories about cooking and good sake, and beer. We even talked about training.
He's in for a 9 month full recovery of his leg and will be out of the hospital by Sunday. The surgeon told him that the operation was a complete success and that he will have no problem with the leg.
I spent a good part of today interfacing with the hospital and my insurance companies to make sure that David never sees a bill. I really learned the importance of having a insurance that not only covers liability but also covers medical bills as well. If there the hospital bill surpasses my insured limit I will be holding a fundraiser to cover the rest of the cost.
For any of you that are healers please send your prayers and healing to David. I will continue to hold him in my consciousness and send him reiki as well.