Jiu Jitsu is Life

Guess which one of us is the best jiu jitsu guy in the world.

Since 1998 I have had the good fortune of training in Brazilian Jiu Jitsu with a great group of guys. Our instructor is Rickson Gracie black belt Craig Husband, who may tip the scales at 170lbs, but feels more like a 1970s-era Buick. BJJ is an evolution of Jiu Jitsu originating in Japan, but BJJ's aim is to take the fight to the ground, with a focus on leverage and positioning over power and athleticism. Which is great for those of us getting longer in the tooth!

We who train in BJJ share an instant camaraderie, not unlike many sports. I feel a close kinship with the others in our group, and an instant friendship with others who train.

Sometimes when I travel, (more during the earlier years), I would go find a local BJJ joint and pay $20 to train for the evening. I would also wear a white belt instead of whatever belt rank I had at the time. (FYI, people love catching those with higher belts in submission holds and making them tap out, I know I used to!) But now I just want to come in and roll, with no expectations except learning. The last thing I need is some testosterone-rich lower belt wanting to hang my head on their wall as a trophy.

But that changed when I got my black belt in 2012. First off, I felt pretty darn unworthy (and still do) when Craig promoted me to black belt. Only studs get black belts, and I still can't hit a flying arm bar or an inverted triangle. But also, when awarded the belt, I was advised that I had to defend it. So I felt at that point that showing up at another club without my black belt would be disrespectful to my instructor. Also, if I showed up and some purple belt mopped up the mats with me, I was concerned that would reflect poorly on Craig.

But this year I turn 50, so now I have the AARP excuse!

My instructor with his.

I have learned a ton in my nearly 20 years, but without a doubt, the most important thing I have learned is what is called "base." Base incorporates posture, positioning, balance, etc., but also, at least for me, is mindset and breathing. When competing, only one person can have base, and interestingly, when you have base, your opponents are helpless to use their technique, strength, conditioning and heart against you. In fact, it is when a person doesn't have base that they tap into their strength and heart to try to compensate. While the concept of base is tough to articulate, it is easily understood when good guy gets a hold of you.

In the western classic "The Comancheros," John Wayne helped his partner differentiate a gopher snake from a rattlesnake, "You see those markings? A cross hatch over light. It makes him look like a rattler. But you can see a thousand like him. But when you see your first rattlesnake, you'll know the difference."

As soon as I get my hands on someone, I know what I am tangled up with. Either they got base, or I do. When UFC commentator Joe Rogan earned his black belt, he said there's no BS in jiu jitsu, and those who have trained for years totally get that. As soon as you tie up with a training partner, you immediately know their skill level. Some McDojos hand out belt advancements for paying a testing fee and doing a kata right, but that doesn't mean the person can fight their way out of a paper bag. In BJJ, application is everything.

It's all about that base.

This translates into other areas of life, which is why you sometimes here in BJJ circles, "Jiu jitsu is life." When in stressful situations, I focus on my base, and all is good. For some reason, the physical state affects the mental one, and the resulting base yields a favorable outcome.

Call us the "Silverbacks Club."

OSS!

Mental Illness Sucks, or, the Shame of a Broken Leg

I'm a fan, Tanner, but you're in the grasp of a Utah Man!

Recently BYU's quarterback Tanner Mangum bravely announced that he has had personal struggles with mental illness, and that he meets regularly with a counselor to help him with his depression. Understand this: that same kid, who three months after returning from an LDS mission to Chile and threw that hail-mary to beat Nebraska, receives psychotherapy. And takes anti-depressants. It is refreshing to hear someone use their influence in this way, and it is becoming more common.

News of unfortunate events are also becoming more common. Mental illness causes people to do some, well, crazy things. Just check the news.

Lots of suicides are attributed to mental illness, most recently Soundgarden's Chris Cornell. Many others like Billy Joel, Drew Carey, Owen Wilson, Drew Barrymore and Halle Berry have made attempts. Olympian Suzy Favor Hamilton's manic depression was manifested in her becoming a Vegas call girl. She also had severe anxiety and an eating disorder. (Her fascinating story is here.) It seems that folks with mental illness can't just have one problem, they come in bunches.

My family has been affected by mental illness, and it sucks. Our kid has been through the ringer, as have the rest of us, with lots of doctors, in-patient care, intensive outpatient therapy, different diagnoses, tons of meds. . . the works. Unfortunately, our experience is not unique.

While we all acknowledge that we want mental illness to be viewed in the same way as a broken leg, we are still pretty far off from having that perspective. There remains a heavy stigma, largely due to the symptoms being more than just a limp.

I am not even close to being an expert, but I am not a newby either. Here are a few things I would tell someone in our family's situation, five years ago:

Happy wife, happy life. That is significantly amplified in this situation. Prioritizing marriage over parenting will not only improve parenting, but will bulletproof a marriage. Putting aside my judgment and pretty much automatically supporting my wife's direction, specifically for this child, has been key. This is not abdicating as a parent, but prioritizing as a spouse.

Don't blame yourself. While it would be good to catch mental illness early, and get treatment as soon as possible, how the heck can young parents recognize the signs? I don't remember it being covered while sleeping through Psych 101 back in college. Just remember that if you'd have known then what you know now, you would have acted differently.

People will judge you. Even your friends and family will make incorrect assumptions about your parenting. Get over it, they opine in ignorance, like you once did about others. Besides, you got bigger fish to fry than a few Chatty Cathies.

Lots of people are experts. You will get unsolicited advice from many, many people, regardless of their experience. Suck it up and listen, it comes from a place of love. And when it doesn't, stay classy.

Love within structure. Don't be a doormat, set boundaries that both maintain happiness and allow progress to be made. Rules are critical.

Develop a sense of humor. Call it gallows humor or whatever, but there is something to be said about comic relief. It helps us compartmentalize, which is critical. (I joke that we've had eight 5150s- one more gets us a set of steak knives.)

You will be a better person. Adversity refines. When the adversity is shared within a marriage, that marriage is refined. (Every parent should have the benefit of this experience!)

God did not do this to you. A loving father puts people in the best situations for their collective benefit. He does not make one person suffer so that another may grow. Don't ask why God did this to you, but rather what you can gain from the experience.

People will disappoint you. It is a bummer when there appears to be a lack of support from people and places you'd think would offer it, but that will stem from their ignorance, awkwardness or not knowing how to help. Not that there is an expectation, but sometimes you will wonder, "Where's the love?" (One time, when an ambulance, fire engine and two police cars rolled up with lights flashing in response to a suicide attempt, every neighbor came out to watch. But none came to check on us. Maybe we needed to have been better neighbors!)

People will love you.  But it is pretty sweet experiencing true love and concern, many times from unanticipated people. Those are unexpected, but wonderful, blessings.

It is not uncommon. It is mind-blowing how many people you know that have been touched by mental illness. Seriously, they will come out of the woodwork.

Departure from values. Not sure what to say here. Being too strict or too religious or too something else will for some reason become one of the perceived sources of mental illness issues; and your kid may choose a path different than their upbringing. I'm still trying to figure this one out.

Gratitude. Balancing the books makes you notice and appreciate the other side of the ledger. While you pray daily for progress, you will also give thanks at the many other things with which you will have been blessed.

Trying to navigate mental illness is just like any other difficult, rotten, confusing, heartbreaking, soul crushing thing. The secret is to bang the rocks together, guys.

Hamilton, y'all!

We are finally going to see this on-stage phenomenon this fall in Hollyweird, and we scored some great seats at the Pantages Theater. It is unbelievable how popular this show is. The day tickets went on sale, Tracy, Jake and I made over 400 calls, while at lunch at Ebbitt's Grill in DC, before we were able to get through and buy them.

Tracy and I were in NYC last year, and we could have put down a big pile of shekels to see it, but waiting a few months saves a few bucks. Plus on Broadway, you only have to cross the street to find something else fantastic, so it's not like we missed out by opting for Finding Neverland instead.

They say the neon lights are bright

Some folks like Dodger games, others dig going to concerts, and some tailgate at the Coliseum for USC football. In our family, we waste money on musicals. Like, way too much money. I didn't really start seeing plays until I saw Phantom in my early 20s, but taking our kids has made for some great experiences together.

One of my favorite memories is Courtney's 8th birthday, where we took her out to eat at the place of her choosing- a sushi joint at Citywalk. (What 8-yr old likes sushi?) Afterwards, Tracy and I took her down to Hollywood under the guise of checking out the Walk of Fame. We had fun as we marched along with our heads down, pointing out the stars we recognized.

As we got in front of the Pantages, we turned and walked inside, telling Court, "Hey, let's check this out." She followed along, oblivious, and didn't notice us present tickets to "The Lion King" at the door. When we got inside the gaudy entrance, she hadn't yet put two and two together as she saw the concessions, souvenirs and decorations; but as we handed her the printed program, her excited reaction was just priceless. We had great seats, a great time, and a great memory.

At the Dolby Theater

Another great memory was when Lindsey and I won the Wicked lottery, to which she attributes her wearing her lucky bracelet. Where ever Wicked is playing, they have a lottery two hours in advance, and the winners get to buy two front-row tickets for $25. It is a lot of fun being there with a couple hundred other hopefuls, trying to be one of the 13 lucky winners. (That is for 26 front row seats, for you math-challenged.) The people cheer loudly for the first few winners, and then the cheers die down as more winners are announced and people see their chances fade.

Ours was the 12th name drawn, and we ended up practically sitting on Glinda's lap. A couple rows behind us, in seats not as cool, was Jessica Simpson and her entourage. Who got their own special exit to which we were refused access. So someone might have leaked that to the paparazzi outside.

A few weeks later, Lindsey and I went down with our friends Paul & Sarah Bartschi to increase their odds of winning, and Lindsey's number was chosen, bagging the Bartschis some sweet seats.

Gravity defied

Below are some of the plays I have enjoyed over the years, and categorized in no particular order:

My Top Five Faves: Wicked, Les Miserables, Phantom of the Opera, Annie, In The Heights

With Courtney, before Harps & Angels

Lindsey and Jake bonding before Mary Poppins

Unforgettable: Next to Normal, Miss Saigon, Beautiful, Evita, Fiddler on the Roof

Keep your hand at the level of your eyes!

Forgettable: Amelie, Curtains, The Drowsy Chaperone, Grey Gardens, Porgy & Bess

Trying to solve that Maria problem 

Most Fun: Mamma Mia, Joseph & The Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat, Promises Promises, Spamalot

Best Encore: We Will Rock You (spoiler alert). The only Queen hit not sung during the play was Bohemian Rhapsody, and by the end we were left wanting. After the cast took their bows and the curtains closed, the question appeared projected on the curtains, "Do you want 'Bohemian Rhapsody?' The place went nuts, as any genteel theater crowd can, as the WWRY cast came back out and belted it.

Matilda at the Ahmanson in Los Angeles . . .

. . . and at the Shubert on Broadway

Best with Kids: Mary Poppins, Newsies, The Sound of Music, Matilda, Lion King

The Last Confession . . . terrific

Not Safe for Kids: American Idiot, Movin' Out, Nine, Rent, Grease, Jersey Boys

You can still take a pic if you don't like the play

Great Revivals: Camelot, My Fair Lady, The Music Man, South Pacific, Cinderella

Cinderelly!

Hidden Gems: The Scarlet Pimpernel, The Last Confession, Once, Love Letters, The Wedding Singer, Dead End

Taking the boy to meet Elphaba

Overrated: Grand Hotel, Into the Woods, Memphis, Sweeney Todd, Sunset Boulevard, Cats, Stomp, The 25th Annual Putman County Spelling Bee

Box seats in the Imperial Theater at the Great White Way

Least Favorites: The Black Rider, The Black Rider, The Black Rider, The Black Rider, The Black Rider

Most Irritating: When the cast comes out after taking their bows and hits you up for money for some cause, (like the tickets weren't expensive enough?) because, you know, "Broadway Cares."

Sneaking a pic at the Pantages before Donny and Marie . . . the Pantages Police jump all over photos

Sneaking another pic at Newsies

Honorable Mentions: Nice Work If You Can Get It, Finding Neverland, Flower Drum Song, Jesus Christ Superstar, Rain

Pedicabs waiting outside of our theater on Broadway

Grandmas are Angels in Training

I had the wonderfully good fortune of living close to one of my grandmothers, and being her first grandkid. Which, of course, made me the favorite. My birth made her a grandma, so my status as #1 stands to reason. There are others who may have felt similarly. She actually had this amazing quality of making all feel like they were her favorite. She loved, and was loved by, all.

I was her only grandchild . . . for 11 months.

She was from Samoa (think Moana's grandmother only sweeter, wiser and more loving), and was the center of our family. She certainly felt like the center of my childhood universe. My most endearing memories of childhood include my angel grandmother.

My grandma was also the center of our family's traditions. We had some great traditions, usually around food, and the family (six uncles!) gathered frequently. One tradition was opening presents at midnight on Christmas. The adults would be doing their thing, usually playing cards and roaring with laughter, and we kids played an album over and over that featured, "¿Dónde Está Santa Claus?" At about 10 minutes to midnight, everyone would sort of wind up what they were doing and prepare for the clock to strike 12. At the stroke of midnight, all would gather and my grandfather would say a prayer, and then someone would play Santa and start to disseminate the avalanche of presents. What great memories!

With my brother Neil, fresh from the oven

When she passed, (way too early), that tradition withered and soon faded away, Thanksgiving dinner had fewer trimmings, and our family, while still wonderful, became a little less tight. Such is the influence of grandma.

Misty Water Colored Memories... Just a Few!

• My grandma used to whistle a distinctive 8-note tune while walking around the living room, usually holding one of my younger baby cousins.
• Her closet smelled like mothballs. Getting a whiff of a mothball today puts me right back at 835 Spruce Street, which beats the pants off the 100-Acre Wood.
• When she returned from overseas with my grandpa, who was in the Navy, I was little more than a toddler, but that is my earliest memory of joy. I couldn't give or get enough kisses! My earliest memory of sorrow preceded that when she left; I think I cried for days.
• Her smell. I can clearly remember what she smelled like when we hugged or I laid down with my head on her lap.
• She loved professional wrestling, and even took me to see an event. (Has YOUR grandma done that for you?) The highlight of the night was watching Mil Mascaras, after getting thrown out of the ring, come back and beat Mr. Fuji.
• She pre-chewed abalone for me when I was small. That meat is tough!
• Her laughing her head off when she sent my Uncle Willie to the store for cooking oil, and he returned with Karo corn syrup.  
• Her awesome potato salad had lots of little shrimp in it. (My mom's too!) I can't hardly stomach store-bought potato salad today.
• Whenever I sat next to her, she scratched my back. That felt good, sure, but more than that, it felt comforting.
• When an uncle had a baby in Samoa, she went and brought the baby back for another uncle and his wife, who couldn't have children, to adopt. My uncle made good on a promise to his brother to give him his first-born child to raise. Fa'a Samoa. 
• One evening when I was very small, we were eating crabs that my dad, uncles and grandpa had caught- nothing tastes better than fresh crab! But those legs and claws were tough and the process hurt my tiny little fingers. As I was working with difficulty to get one cracked open and the meat out, my grandma slid over a plate with a big pile of crab meat she had extracted. I remember thinking that was nicest thing anyone had ever done for me.
• She would put cushions on the floor against the couch when I slept over, in case I rolled off during the night, and would have hot chocolate for me in the morning on the coffee table. We then would watch Saturday morning cartoons with Porky Pig, Elmer Fudd, Foghorn Leghorn, Sylvester & Tweety, Tom & Jerry, etc. I remember one time my Uncle Bucky, a tough Seabee, watched with us and being surprised how hard he belly-laughed at Bugs and Daffy and all the others.
• Her biggest threat when wanting us to behave was to lock us in the bathroom. I knew that meant she had reached her limit and it was time to behave, but I also knew that bathrooms were locked from the inside. Besides, we knew it was an empty threat!

With her namesake, my sister Lisa

I remember as a small child, when my mother was providing "corrective instruction" to me, I asked her, "Why can't you be more like Grandma?" I don't think I ever saw my mom laugh so hard.

And wouldn't you know it, my mom has become my grandma!

And so has my wife!

Grandmas certainly are angels in training. Mine just earned her wings earlier than most.

The Cool Factor, or... What would Fonzie do?

Step into my office.

I once had a conversation at a wrestling tournament with Coach Gary Bairos, an ASU All-American back in the day, who made a comment that continues to resonate with me. The previous week he had a dual meet against a rival school, and he asked the opposing coach if they could delay the weigh ins for a few minutes so one of his kids, who was finishing up a college entrance exam, could participate. (The rules say that the kids must all weigh in at the same time, shoulder-to-shoulder.)

The other coach told him they could go ahead and weigh everyone in now, (the weight cutters wanted to eat!) and there would be no problem in weighing the other kid in whenever he got there. There is some precedence for coaches mutually adjusting weigh in rules a bit, for convenience sake. So to Gary, this seemed legit.

Just a few minutes after weigh ins concluded, the college-bound athlete arrived, and Gary advised the other coach so they could weigh the kid in. The other coach surprisingly had a change of heart, telling Gary that he "just checked the rule book," and that having him weigh in now would be a violation of the rules, so he could not allow it. Which resulted in forfeiting that weight class during the dual meet, where Gary's kid was favored to win.

Gary said, "He may have been right, but that was not cool."

Since when is being cool a factor when dealing within the rules of athletics?

And why isn't it?

At that moment I installed an internal barometer of coolness when dealing with athletes and coaches, which in some respects, superseded the rules. I deal with people the same way, engaging the "cool factor" as a standard. It is obviously subjective, but determining whether I am being cool or uncool, or if others are, is top of mind.

One of my clients, Tim Swickard at law firm Lewis Brisbois, told me they employ the "No A-hole Rule" when dealing with clients, vendors and fellow lawyers. (This was in response to my mentioning not only how quickly they pay their bills, but how pleasant everyone there was to work with.) Being cool means you're not an a-hole.

Incidentally, I have another client who has what she calls a PITA charge, or extra fees for being a Pain In The A--; but I digress.

The highest result of education is tolerance. -Helen Keller

When I was a kid, there was no shortage of jokes about gay people. As time progressed, gays became viewed as people who sought "tolerance." That soon transitioned from "tolerance" to "acceptance," which has transitioned to "normal." Making fun of a gay person today means you are a small minded bigot who probably is an NRA member. Just like mentioning someone having a "senior moment" makes you an ageist. And heaven help your misogynistic hind parts if you are disagreeable with a member of the fairer sex, because that makes you a woman-hater.

But it is open season if you are a mentally ill celebrity, fat man (not obese woman, that makes you a body-shamer) or adult working at a fast food joint.

Or Christian- we can make fun of them all day long and twice on Sunday.

When I was a kid, Christians were "normal," and there were no rules (i.e., prayer in school) protecting the average citizen from the terribly harmful affects of Christianity. As I grew older, Christianity declined along the spectrum from "normal" to "acceptance," to "tolerance" as the new normal. Christians actually should be transitioned away from tolerance, after all, the KKK is a Christian organization, right?

Unfortunate that the worst in one group is often compared with the best in another, which means acceptance of one class of people is often at the expense of another.

A June 26, 2017 Newsweek article indicated that President Trump hadn't recognized June as LGBT month. The author stated Trump's prolific Twitter account "has remained conspicuously silent about LGBT Pride Month," assigning meaning to the absence of a tweet. Hmm, how much press coverage has been given to a gay Trump supporter being prohibited from a Pride day celebration?

I am a huge proponent of dismissing labels and engaging the no a-hole rule . . . to be accepting of all people while being tolerant of their ideals.

To be cool.

In case you're wondering, July is National Cell Phone Courtesy Awareness Month.  Support the cause.