One of the things I haven't done is been to my sword class in several months. This causes me stress on many levels, not the least of which is this sense of abandoning my teacher. Since I've gotten larger my uniform doesn't fit as well, so it is more difficult to do some of the forms. Most forms in my iaido class start from a kneeling position. On series of moves have you moving from what is called tatahiza. This position requires the practitioner to completely bend his left knee so that his butt is resting on the inside portion of his/her left foot, and the right knee bent, pointed almost straight up, with the right foot almost flat on the ground. It is extremely difficult for westerners to do. This westerner in particular has had knee surgey on his left knee. I can't bend it that far, and even in shape I'd worry about snapping the tendon that replaced my torn anterior cruciated ligament, (ACL).
The other thing is that this martial art iaido, which is about drawing and cutting with a sword is more esoteric, more cerebral. It is a more of a martial way, by which you improve yourself through the rigors of training. Could you use some of the awareness skills developed to avoid confrontation. Yes. In 21st century Earth are you likely to use a sword to defend yourself. No.
I've recently had renewed interest in an Israeli martial art called Krav Maga. I won't go into great detail, but it is a dynamic, primarily a striking art, that uses the body's natural responses to help orchestrate fast, and brutal defenses tailored on ending the fight quickly. Gotta say I group up being afraid of confrontation and fighting. This calls to me because the system is supposed to let you end things quickly. That's good for me because I don't want to be in a fight at all, I just as soon get it over with quickly, with minimal damage to myself hopefully. I took an introductory class nearby. It was the lowest level class, but let me tell you it was very dynamic. In that hour I learned the effectiveness of a palm heal strike, punching with your fist vertical, three types of elbows, and two types of knee strikes. Not bad for an hour. Still I learned that I will probably need a right knee brace of decent quality to support my right knee that got sprained a few years ago. That's the only negative. They also offer various fitness classes, and I like the idea of really using my martial training to help slim me down.
The other thing I did was drive down to Salado to a ranch that specializes in importing game animals for people to hunt. My dad was there hunting feral pigs, which I found out are a nuisance animal, not native to this country. Because of the rate they reproduce, and the damage that they cause to farms and livestock, their hunting is encouraged, sort of like "license to kill gophers" (movie reference), but this time it was pigs.
So I get there by 8:30 on a Friday night, fighting through Dallas rush hour traffic. I meet my dad and this client/friend of his Paul. Paul is a hunter. Paul and my dad are from Massachusetts. Both of them sound like they just walked out of the original Dunkin Donuts in Quincy with a coffee "regula and two krellas." You see in Massachusetts the "R" has been officially dropped from the end of any word that requires it. For me the accent is pain full to heaah (translation = hear).
So we load up in this 4x4 golf cart. I'm in the front with my rifle pointed muzzle down at the floorboard, with the guide driving, and my dad and Paul are in the back. We go tearing off. Dad and Paul tell me that these things move fast and won't sit still for long, and that I may have to shoot one in the ass. I told them that wasn't going to happen. I already set parameters for myself. I would only take a quality shot, i.e. somewhere just back of the shoulder. If it didn't happen so be it. Part of me was a little nervous. The last time I killed an animal was a chicken in the Army, the better part of 24 years ago, (where does the time go?). I remembered trying to decapitate the chicken with the edge of my boot. Didn't work so well the first time, and I empathized with the chicken suffering a little. I'm not a greeny or environmentalist, but I do believe humans have stewardship over the animals, and though we need to kill them for food, that act should be done in the fastest and simplest way to avoid any unnecessary suffering.
So after chasing down two groups of pigs, and failing to corner one that separated itself, we came in contact with a third group. I saw, what my guide described as a good sized pig, standing broadside to us at about 50 yards at night. Using iron sights, and the light attached to my rifle I lit up the pig aimed and fired, and it went down. At 50 yards it looked small, however when we drove up on it, the guide said it was about 120 pounds. Not bad. The bullet had entered just behind its left shoulder, but did not exit.
When I got up on it I really didn't feel much of anything. Maybe if I'd been 14 and not 44 it would have. The pig twitched a little, but within a couple of minutes it was dead right where it stood. I was glad it didn't run. We loaded up the pig and went back to the bunkhouse.
The best part of this wasn't shooting the pig, though I have to say the coolness by which I did it still interests me. The best part was my dad telling me what a great shot I made, that it had been the best made in the last couple of days. The pig he shot required him to shoot it twice. Paul was bow hunting. I'm told he's an accomplished hunter. He put 3 arrows with broad tips into his pig, and it ran, a testimony about how tough these animals can be. He ultimately had to shoot it TWICE to finish it off. I'm no hunter but to me if you hunt these animals with a bow, you should really make a precision shot that drops the animal. Paul's pig may have been tough, but it suffered.
Anyway my dad recounted the story again, and again. Really impressed by how cool and collected I was. I tried to shake it off as 25 years of professionally shooting guns, and beginners luck. My dad just shook that off, telling me you get plenty of guys who hunt, and at the moment of truth they start to shake and can't take the shot. For me the moral of the story is that it doesn't matter if your 14 years old or 44 years old, hearing your dad being impressed with you feels pretty darn good.
So update, (since really I finished the pig shooting portion of this post on April 4th), my dad showed my brothers Sean and Calvin pictures of the me standing near the pig I shot. They are very excited. It sounds like Dad, Sean, and Calvin will be coming to Texas next December for a couple of days, so that the four of us can do this together. Watch out pigs, the Brown Boys are coming and your days are numbered.
Krav Maga on a Wednesday, and shooting a pig on a Friday. Last time I had this much testosterone I was at basic training at Ft.Benning, Georgia the fall of 1986.
Good night.
Best,
Dave
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