In Memoriam: Nick Adler (1939–2026)

It was just a few days ago when I was viewing an interview of Nick Adler that a friend and fellow karateka emailed me to tell me Shihan had just passed away. Shihan Adler, tenth dan in Isshinryu karate, also held rank in Matayoshi kobudo (a weapons system), judo and jiu-jitsu. The master cross-referenced with many styles, and I took a number of workshops (and tournaments) that he hosted that included a myriad of styles with other masters to whet one's appetite in controlled mayhem. As an Isshinryu karate instructor spanning over sixty years, Shihan had trained thousands of students.

It was Shihan Adler that tied a black belt around the waist of my blood speckled gi all those years ago in a Long Island dojo. After I left that school shortly thereafter (which had nothing to do with the master) I trained under other teachers. Though competent and qualified as they were, none could compare to the encyclopedic knowledge and pedagogy of Shihan.  

Shihan Adler began his Isshinryu training with Ed McGrath, and later Don Nagle. Sometime during this period, as a brown belt, he made a trip to Okinawa to receive tutelage from Tatsuo Shimabuku, the founder of Isshinryu. In his telling of that trip one particular story stood out:

 

We're hanging out in the dojo waiting for the soke [Shimabuku] to arrive when this older gentlemen walks in wearing a bowler-style hat. He looked like a drifter. I'm leaning against the wall with one arm, and he was so short he just walks right under my arm and past me. It was him! He was so inconspicuous hardly anyone else even knew he was there. Later he comes out and calls me up to demonstrate something. "Punch" he says while motioning to his chest. I'm almost six foot, he's like five foot nothing, in his fifties or thereabout, so I halfheartedly throw this uninspired punch. "No, no...punch." Okay. So I wind up with this fireball, but just before it reaches his chest, he steps back and middle blocks like a whip, landing his knuckles into the belly of my biceps. Dead arm, useless. And painful. "Try other arm?" he quips. No thanks!  

 

All my advanced karate and kobudo forms I learned from this man. Aside from his technical prowess and affinity for karate tradition, he was pragmatic and philosophical. He once said "the more you know how to fight, the less you'll want to fight." To that I would add an old kendo saying (to paraphrase), "Though the best sword need not be drawn, does not mean it cannot be drawn." Power is a choice, but sometimes a necessity.

Rest in peace Shihan.

A Farewell To A Legend

This is going to be a short post, if for no other reason there is so much available online right now about the life of Chuck Norris. Born Carlos Ray Norris in 1940, he earned the nickname Chuck from another recruit during his hitch in the US Air Force in Korea, and the name stuck. While there, he trained in Tang Soo Do, a martial art closely related to Tae Kwon Do, whereupon Norris earned his black belt in just over a year. (Lest you think this was fast tracked, realize he trained five hours a day six days a week! On day seven he took a judo class, just to stay warm.) He would attend his Tang Soo Do sessions after pulling a full shift as a military cop. His class always ran the same training routine:

• First Hour: punches and hand techniques.
• Second Hour: kicks and leg techniques.
• Third Hour: combinations of the above.
• Fourth Hour: forms, called hyeong, which are prearranged fighting moves.
• Fifth Hour: semi-contact sparring with no protective gear.

Once at a public demonstration in Korea, his teacher called him up to break a stack of roofing tiles. When he brought his fist straight down he broke his hand. His teacher was unfazed, and Norris continued to attend lessons with his hand in a cast.

After his discharge from the Air Force, he entered and won many tournaments. In those days, tournaments were "open" to related styles; there was little difference held for Tang Soo Do, Tae Kwon Do or karate. Norris' exposure to other styles helped him to develop his own repertoire of techniques that afforded him tournament success. Fighters didn't pull techniques during Norris' tournament heyday, and bouts often ended with broken bones, knockouts and trips to the emergency room.

Eventually Norris earned black belt rank in judo, and much later Brazilian jiu-jitsu. He even developed his own style called Chun Kuk Do (later changed to the Chuck Norris System), using Tang Soo Do as a starting point, but also incorporates grappling techniques. While he was teaching in California, he began to gain celebrities as students. At the behest of actor Steve McQueen, who was one of his students, Norris began to star in martial-art themed movies, and the rest as they say, is history.

I have long regarded Chuck Norris as the best martial arts role model represented in movies and television. His onscreen martial arts were impressive, but not too over-the-top. The characters he portrayed were always moralistic and incorruptible. Indeed, off screen, Norris felt that the development of virtues and character were inseparable from the true spirit of martial arts.

Norris died two days ago in Hawaii after a "medical emergency." It's not clear what happened, as his family is understandably asking for privacy. He was 86. Given his devotion to training, fitness and clean living, everyone assumed he would live to a hundred or so. (See the photo above. This was taken less than a year ago.)

In summation I'll leave with a dose of humor. There are so many of these (of which the man himself heartily approved of), let's go with this one: "There are no bridges named after Chuck Norris. Because no one crosses Chuck Norris."

Are We Having Fun Yet?

 

There was a blogger that I used to link to that lived in a dojo at some kind of an enclave that housed aikido students (the blog has since been removed). He was an ushideshi, literally, a resident disciple. The deal was you go to Japan for about a year, live in a temple with the master and the other deshi, train, do chores, go shopping, and do household miscellanea, all the while angling for a black belt. The implied real goal was to become immersed into Japanese culture and the concept of budo, martial arts as a way of life, which along side of self defense techniques has a moralistic, spritual core. Ruffians and scrappers need not apply. I deeply admire anyone who aspires to a year of sacrifice to such commitment (and money). Clearly this is not a path for those who think they're less-than-serious martial artists. Not everyone is seeking a 'way of life.' 

I recently saw an internet meme that read "Martial Arts Is Not A Hobby", but as I see it, martial arts can be anything you wish it to be, especially if you're doling out monthly payments to a place in a strip mall. Then I saw this on reddit:

 

My daughter is 11 and has some focus issues and joining Tae Kwon Do class helps her tremendously with physical fitness, discipline and she thrives on the structure of it. I've had at least 5 MMA bros tell me that Tae Kwon Do is fake, BS and not real fighting. Like [...] dude - she's 11 years old, not a cage fighter and she likes standing in a line and kicking.

 

Roughly half of adults 18 - 44 consider themselves a fan of combat sports. Small wonder 'MMA bros' is a thing. Aside from kids who make up a sizeable portion of just about any traditional martial arts school, adult practitioners of martial arts benefit from discipline and staying fit too. But very few join a club to actively compete or to test their wares to see if it works. I've taken my training seriously, but I also enjoy the social interaction an adult class can offer. Being a karate hobbyist has afforded me the ability to enjoy my pastime with good cheer and at times a sense of humor. Laughter, it is said, is good medicine.  

 

I've noticed a hallmark of many high ranking instructors is their sense of humor, no doubt to offset many years of teaching the art of physical mayhem. Ever see the movie Full Metal Jacket? For his portrayal of a US Marine drill instructor, R. Lee Ermey should've won an award for best debasing wisecracks. Ermey, who in real life spent more than a decade in The Corps, was originally brought in as a technical advisor for the film, but his rendition of how an actual DI really behaves was so impressive that they decided to just give him the role. Many of his lines were unscripted and improvised by him. Absolutely brutal, but admittedly some of his rants were pretty funny. It's no coincidence that karate first came to the US courtesy of Marines stationed on Okinawa in the 1950s, and fortunately few of us ever had a sensei like Gunnery Sergeant Hartman. But for something as hard and painful as karate training in a legit dojo, having some laughs and fun in moderation can go a long way. Or to quote an iconic line from another military movie, "Lighten up, Francis."

High Risk Kicks

In Isshinryu karate, the kata (form) Wansu features a pair of blade kicks delivered to the low section. A blade kick is a side kick with the foot turned inwards to strike with the edge. In Wansu this kick is performed left and right as kata techniques (waza) tend to work both sides. The above image depicts how this would crystalize in actual combat, in this case by targeting the hamstring. It's important to strike with the edge of the outer foot closer to the heel; making contact closer to the little toe could torque the foot, setting you up for torn ligaments. This happened to me when I was twenty, and I had my foot and part of my leg in a cast for about six weeks.

Mid-section kicks are generally effective and practical. Low kicks (or any strikes below the waist) are prohibited in most styles of sportive karate and tae kwon do. The problem with high kicks is that they can be countered relatively easier than lower kicks. Still, high section kicks have their place for the athletically inclined, and they have even found their way in MMA matches. Crescent kicks (see above) was something I used in dojo matches that I could score with, in principle, by clearing the head of my opponent. A variant of the crescent kick, the axe kick, requires extreme flexibility (kicking leg extends straight up, then whips straight down, leg remaining straight) but overshooting your heel or foot can impinge the Achilles tendon. Speaking from experience, tendons and ligaments take a long time to heal, as connective tissues involving bone and muscle have limited reserves of blood flow.   

 

When I attended a judo workshop years ago the instructor would say "make your opponent a one-legged fighter"; this is the concept of kuzushi (unbalance). Raising your leg high to launch a kick compromises equilibrium, but also leaves one vulnerable to an awful counter targeting a precious commodity. Before he became a full-contact karate fighter, Bill 'Superfoot' Wallace lost one of his testicles in a point match. I have no idea if it was a counter to one of his warp speed forward-leg kicks or something else. At a tournament I witnessed a guy from my school break his opponents plastic groin protector with a spinning back kick, the strongest kick in martial arts. Thai steel cups might be a good investment for those who are wary. Some lessons shouldn't have to be learned the hard way.

Teen Girl Defends Against Attacker

 
The following is a story taken from a news report dated 5/26/25:

 

A 13-year-old girl in California fought off a man using her jiu-jitsu training and broke his ankle when he tried attacking her on her walk home from school.

Police in Carmel, Calif., are now looking for the teen’s attacker. Police say the suspect ambushed the girl by hiding between two parked cars and stepping out to punch her in the face...

For three years, the 13-year-old has been taking jiu-jitsu classes at the Carmel Youth Center with Michael Blackburn, who teaches at the center...The teen applied what she learned in her class when the man tried to attack her...

“She punched him, she got him in a headlock, kneed him a couple of times, spun him around, threw him on the ground,” Blackburn said...“She had stepped on his foot doing all this, and when she threw him on the ground, he broke his ankle.”

The teen was able to run home safely but her attacker is still on the loose. According to the local outlets, Carmel police do not have any solid leads on the man but have released a sketch of what they believe he looks like. 

The suspect is believed to be around 6 feet tall, muscular and now has an injury to his left foot inflicted by the teen who fought back...

 

As stated, the unnamed teenage girl has been training in an unspecified style of jiu-jitsu for three years. This ended well, of course, but the 6-foot burly perp is still out there limping around. I'll edit in an update if they nab this slimeball.  This shouldn't happen to anyone, least of all a child.

Amazing—thirteen years old! Kudos to Sensei Blackburn and his Carmel-by-the-Sea dojo for teaching this young lady right.

Teachers As Fighters

Have you ever noticed that in baseball the team manager wears a baseball uniform? Now, he never partakes in the game; not to pinch hit or relieve the losing pitcher towards the end of the game. Aside from his senior appearance or the fact that he's maybe put on a few pounds over the years, the baseball manager is decked out like an actual playing member of the club. How interesting. In his heyday, the manager was a player with a major league team who typically had a decent record as a pro. After retiring as a player, he became a manager. It's a well paying job of course, but now it behooves him to give back to a sport that has been very generous to him. A good baseball manager possesses leadership, technical savvy, and when appropriate, wisdom, in order to guide his players to become a winning team.

In boxing, the coach is typically a trainer who has had at least some boxing experience, but not necessarily as a decorated amateur, let alone a prizefighter. Cus D'Amato, one of the greatest professional boxing coaches of all time, was never himself a professional boxer. I won't mention names, but some former world champions who have tried their hand at coaching had less than stellar results with their protégés. Teaching is not the same thing as doing. Perhaps mediocrity goes a long way when the disciple becomes the master.

Ah, yes—the master! This is the word I'm ginning up. Teachers in different categories mean different things. But in the realm of martial arts, mastery is something unique. In sports, the coach is a retired player, a player that may or may not have been an elite exponent of baseball, boxing or whatever. 

 

The martial arts master, however, is not only held as a master instructor, but a master practitioner. Now this is conjecture, thanks to legends, rumors, kung-fu flicks, and starry-eyed students delivering sermons on how their karate teacher or whoever can level ten people at a clip. Manager Tommy LaSorda, though he could deal with unruly players, umpires, and the not-so-rare bench-clearing brawl, would be hard pressed to hit one out of the park. Could trainer Cus D'Amato knock out an opponent in the main event? Of course not, nor would anyone expect him to. But the sensei or sifu is held to a different standard.

The romantic definition of the martial arts master is their mastery of multiple domains. This can be fraught with problems: Your sensei is not your shrink or financial consultant or life coach or buddy. (And while we're on the subject, I've seen the title of sensei thrown around like it was an "Employee of the Month" award. Being a black belt—in any style— does not automatically confer one to being called sensei.)

Boxing coach/fighter relationships, however, are replete with stories similar to genuine mentorships. By their account, some boxers have regarded their trainers as father figures who guided them away from what likely would have been a life of crime, drugs, and gang activity culminating in prison. And these relationships are certainly reciprocal, I'm sure. In a touching scene from Rocky V (1990), a wizened and wise Mickey Goldmill offers this heartwarming guidance to his disciple:

 

You know kid, I know how you feel about this fight that's comin' up. 'Cause I was young once, too. And I'll tell you somethin'. Well, if you wasn't here I probably wouldn't be alive today. The fact that you're here and doin' as well as you're doin' gives me—what do you call it—motivization? Huh? To stay alive, 'cause I think that people die sometimes when they don't wanna live no more. 

And nature is smarter than people think. Little by little we lose our friends, we lose everything. We keep losin' and losin' till we say you know, 'Oh what the hell am I livin' around here for? I got not reason to go on.' But with you kid, boy, I got a reason to go on. And I'm gonna stay alive and I will watch you make good...

...and I'll never leave you until that happens. 'Cause when I leave you you'll not only know how to fight, you'll be able to take care of yourself outside the ring too, is that okay?

 

Taking your lessons "outside" is a central precept in traditional martial arts.  When we come to the dojo we leave our hangups and worldly problems at the door. But we take the good lessons we've gleaned during dedicated training with us when we leave for the day. In this manner, karate-do becomes karate as a "way of life."

Consider this exchange Bruce Lee's character has with a student in the beginning of Enter The Dragon (1973). One-on-one he tells his young student, Loa, to kick him. After he fails to properly commit, Lee admonishes him. 

"What was that? An exhibition? We need emotional content. Try again." Loa then overexerts with an even harder kick, swatting air.

"I said 'emotional content.' Not anger! Now try again...with me." Lao finally launches a couple of decent side kicks, much to the approval of Lee.

"That's it! How did it feel to you?" As Loa ponders the question, Lee smacks him in the head.

"Don't think. Feel. It is like a finger pointing away to the moon." When Lee observes Loa merely looking at his finger he smacks him again.

"Don't concentrate on the finger, or you will miss all that heavenly glory. Do you understand?" Loa responds affirmatively by bowing, but again errs by losing eye contact with his master, receiving the trifecta smack upside the head. Poor Lao. A spiritual and technical lesson wrapped up in one. Does it get any better than this? Indeed it does, and Lee's summation here is sage advice for any martial artist.

"Never take your eyes off your opponent...even when you bow."

Loa bows, gazing intently at his master. Another day. Another lesson.

Keyboard Warriors

   

Never do human beings speculate more, or have more opinions, than about things which they do not understand.—Carl Jung

Has anyone viewed the comments thread on a popular martial arts online forum when a question is posed? There's an axiom that asserts "the best way to get the right answer on the internet is not to ask a question; it's to post the wrong answer." There are no shortages of armchair martial-art luminaries who will provide a guiding light when someone wants to know which style is best suited for street fighting, or fending of multiple attackers, or any other imaginable scenario. As I've witnessed, the wrong answers outnumber the right ones. Everybody's a tenth degree black belt and cross-trains in multiple disciplines. And when a real expert (however you define that term) enters the chat, they are either dismissed or so overwhelmed with misinformation, that their proficient advice fades in the onslaught of stupidity.

 

In his book The Death of Expertise, author Tom Nichols describes a process in our culture that has given rise to cognitive bias by people who have limited competence and overestimate their own knowledge of certain subjects.

 

[T]here's still the problem of at least some people thinking they're bright when in fact they're not very bright at all. We've all been trapped at a party or a dinner when the least-informed person in the room holds court, never doubting his or her own intelligence and confidently lecturing the rest of us with a cascade of mistakes and misinformation. It's not your imagination: people spooling off on subjects about which they know very little and with completely unfounded confidence really happens, and science has finally figured it out.¹

 

What science has figured out is known as the "Dunning-Kruger Effect," named for the pair of social psychologists who concluded in a 1999 report that certain individuals "Not only...reach erroneous conclusions and make unfortunate choices, but their incompetence robs them of their ability to realize it."²

In other words, dumb people don't realize how dumb they are—precisely because they're dumb. Whenever I see the question "Which martial art should I study" the typical flood of responses will denigrate certain arts;  Tae kwon do, aikido, wing chun, and certain styles of Japanese jiu-jitsu comes to mind, among others. Beyond the fundamental differences between grappling, striking and non-sportive systems, the best advice to give the seeker is to get off your damn chair and get out and investigate for yourself. Rest assured, there are highly competent instructors in the aforementioned arts that will unequivocally prove the internet trolls wrong. Trolls are experts in incitement and it's important to understand that debating anonymous posters play into what they want. They are not obligated to abide by the rules of decorum. If you're going to "do your own research", do it in the real world, not on the fake landscape of the internet.
 

As Mark Twain once said, "Never argue with fools; they will drag you down to their level and beat you with experience."³


 

1. Tom Nichols 2024. The Death of Expertise: The Campaign against Established Knowledge and Why it Matters. Oxford University Press.

2. Justin Kruger and David Dunning, "Unskilled and Unaware of It: How Difficulties in Recognizing One's Own Incompetence Lead to Inflated Self-Assessments," Journal of Personality and Social Psychology 77(6), December 1999, 1121-1122.

 

3. This quote has also been attributed to Steve Jobs. I'm thinking it could've been Bruce Lee. Take your pick.

The Harder They Fall

We used to do push-ups on our knuckles in karate class, a practice of which I do not have fond memories of. It didn't matter where I trained, the knuckle push-up was a time-honored staple. I think from a physiological perspective aligning one's wrist vertically (as opposed to hands flat on the floor) is better for the sake of the wrist joint. I've done my fair share of push-ups, I've had no aversion to hard training in the past, but pressing knuckles into a hardwood floor can be trying. The idea is that it conditions the fist for sparring, but I'm skeptical. Routines that include focus mitts and the heavy bag are more practical and sensible. 

 

A traditional karate dojo has a hardwood floor. Isshinryu's founder, Shimabuku, had an outdoor training area that was surrounded by a brick wall that supposedly had shards of glass glued to the tops to dissuade the local Okinawan youth from climbing atop to peer in. Photos from that time reveal what looks like a concrete floor. Years later, Angi Uezu built a dojo with a concrete slab that had springs underneath, presumably to absorb shocks from jumping and landing. Great for the spine, I guess. Not so much if you land on your head.

In combat sports such as karate, tae kwon do and amateur boxing (some organizations), head gear is mandatory. The head gear is primarily designed to protect the user, not from getting hit in the face, but from falling. I've seen boxing matches where professionals (who don't wear head gear) get knocked out on their feet, then fare worse from landing  on their heads. I cracked a wisdom tooth at a tournament years ago when I was dropped with a side kick onto the hard gym floor of a local high school. This despite wearing head gear and a mouth piece, the latter of which is designed to keep the jaw from breaking, while no consideration is shown for the dentition.

There is a circuit of underground fight clubs such as King Of The Streets where combatants fight on a hard surface, no-holds-barred. Illegal and absolutely insane. Street fights can turn fatal when someone falls and hits their head on the pavement. 

 

Head trauma from years of boxing, kickboxing, MMA, and other sports have shown that dementia, Parkinson's Disease, and other neurological disorders associated with CTE (chronic traumatic encephalopathy) can manifest themselves, typically long after retirement.  

Whatever style you practice, do it on mats if you can. When sparring, move your head and protect yourself at all times. Loving your art shouldn't mean you have to pay for it later.

Pay Attention

In what has become a recurring theme in my life as of late, my health has been compromised with a shoulder injury. I will need rotator cuff surgery to repair the damage that I incurred at my job this past October and I've been home since. Last year I had a full shoulder replacement on my left side; this time it's my right shoulder.  I'm still waiting for the so-called "Golden Years" to kick in. I really thought my golden time was in the bag; after all, I've taken care of myself my entire adult life, and I assumed my eventual physical decline would be a protracted soft landing. A recent blog post from a karate practitioner, however, puts it succintly:

The decline is not slow and incremental.

Recent research seems to suggest that it’s not a slow ticking clock that causes physical decline but actually, across the sexes there are two significant spikes in dramatic decline. One occurs in the mid 40’s; scientists knew this but initially thought that statistics were skewed by the menopause in woman in that age group—but no… men have identical declines.

The other spike is in the early 60’s. A Japanese Wado teacher warned me of this, “You wait till you hit the 60’s barrier” he cheerfully told me.

So that’s the bad news, but it’s better to be warned ahead of time than to live in ignorance and then be blindsided by it.

I was telling a co-worker that the good news for me is that I'm running out of things to break on my body. I'm starting to acquire the same number of artificial repairs and prosthetic joints as RoboCop, the cyborg law enforcer from the 80s movie of the same name. In a couple of years I plan to retire. Hopefully I can manage to work the remaining time without crippling myself every six months.
 

For now there's not much I can do. Two of my current pastimes are reading and meditating, the latter being long associated with the martial arts. Meditation is a practice that is simple yet deceptively difficult. The idea of sitting absolutely still while quieting the mind is antithetical in our culture. The goal is the elimation of thoughts by simply paying attention to them. Through this act of mindfulness, the cessation of mind-chatter becomes attainable. That's it. In cultivating this practice one can achieve a number of psychological and physical benefits that are so well documented I won't delve into it here.

 

Shoshin Nagamine, the famous founder of Matsubayahshi-ryu karate, became deeply drawn to Zen and meditation in his senior years. As a result, he achieved Satori (enlightenment) at the age of 62 and lived for another twenty-eight years, time that was well spent in his administration of karate on Okinawa and the rest of the world.

I'm not up to taking on the world, I just want to make it to my retirement in one piece. My wife has been telling me to "be more careful" when I'm working. Yes, we all need to be attentive in our daily lives, especially at the job. Pay attention! In my defense, sometimes certain events at work are unavoidable. 

 

Somewhere I read one pithy definition of meditation that stuck with me: "Paying attention to paying attention." This reminds me of a Zen parable:

The day before going off to war,  a soldier sought the counsel of the Zen master Ikkyu. "Master, will you please write for me some maxims of the highest wisdom? I need some insight that will guide me and allow me to prevail on the battlefield."

Ikkyu immediately took his brush and wrote the word: "Attention."

"Is that all?" asked the soldier. "Will you not add something more ?"

Ikkyu then wrote twice: "Attention. Attention."

"Well," remarked the soldier rather irritably, "I really don't see much depth or subtlety in what you have just written."

Then Ikkyu wrote the same word three times: "Attention. Attention. Attention."

Half-angered, the soldier demanded, "What does that word 'attention' mean anyway?"

Ikkyu answered gently, "Attention means attention."

In Memoriam: Angi Uezu (1935-2024)

While I was researching traditional karate in anticipation of writing a post, I stumbled upon the sad news that Master Angi Uezu of Isshinryu karate passed away a few days ago at age 89. Uezu Sensei was the son-in-law of Tatsuo Shimabuku, the founder of Isshinryu. Originally studying to be an accountant, he began training under Shimabuku starting around 1955. It was about this period that Marines stationed on Okinawa began their training in Isshinryu in accordance with a contract that the US military had with Shimabuku, paying him 300 USD per month. Despite suffering a stroke a while back, Uezu rehabilitated himself enough to return to karate training and teaching. Somewhere I have a collection of VHS cassettes from the 1980s featuring the master's rendition of kata and their applications that are truly awe inspiring. They were my cheat sheets when I couldn't get to the dojo.

It's just as well I didn't post my response to this well-written piece by Tim Shaw on defining traditional karate; there's not much I could add anyway. Though Isshinryu is considered a style of traditional karate here in the US, it is a recently created system that is considered a "maverick" style on Okinawa. Although I never met him, Uezu Sensei was one of Isshinryu's finest exponents. I would also like to direct those interested to a video uploaded by longtime instructor, Michael Calandra, who delves into the master's life and his influence on Isshinryu karate.

Learn Forbidden Martial Arts

A while back I penned a post about martial-art ads that appeared in the back of comic books, a popular grift that took place during the 1960s and 70s. This is an update sourced from the original author that is far more comprehensive and entertaining than the first. This latest installment includes ads offering home courses for karate and jiu-jitsu, but also an array of fictitious martial-art styles whose only existence and purpose was to literally make a quick buck. A sampling:

• Yubiwaza
• Ketsugo
• Poison Hand
• Aicondo

To be fair, there were some ads that featured karate hawked by legit instructors who ran schools, such as John Keehan (Count Dante—"The Deadliest Man Alive"), and Wallace Reumann, a Chito-ryu practitioner who trained under Hank Slominski—the latter who gave Elvis Presley his first black belt in 1960. Reumann's karate ads (which included a menacing "life like karate practice dummy" to whoop ass on) pushed the boundaries of appealing to the burgeoning masculinity and wariness of young men with doozies like this:

What would you do if you were insulted by a bully?...or if 3 or 4 hoodlums passed remarks about your girl?...or if you were suddenly mugged from behind?...or if someone came at you with a baseball bat?

If you're like millions of other Americans, you'd be absolutely helpless—and you'd be ashamed, humiliated, robbed, beaten, kicked—and pitiful in the eyes of your girl or friends.

To balance things out, this ad for Yubiwaza features a diminutive woman who turns the tables with this remarkable claim:

 I miss the days when you could get your money's worth for 99¢!

Deconstructing Seisan

 

Here's a fine demonstration of Seisan, the first kata taught in Isshinryu karate. Seisan is not unique to Isshinryu, but is an ancient form found in many systems of karate. Kata is typically practiced as a solo form, but eventually the student is taught how to deconstruct the kata itself (bunkai) and how to apply the self-defense moves within (oyo). Later upon testing, students are asked to show (with a partner) sections of various kata and their proper application. Here we see this particular kata in its entirety in a theoretical matchup versus multiple assailants. The guttural breathing you hear adds power to the technique.

The master featured in the video (the defender at the center) is Arcenio Advincula. He trained directly under the founder of Isshinryu karate, Tatsuo Shimabuku, during his US military hitch on Okinawa starting in 1958. Years ago I took a workshop given by Advincula-sensei that was attended by at least two dozen Isshinryu karate teachers and students on Long Island. One of my instructors got into a rather heated exchange with the master over a stupid technical issue that did not end well for the former. Pro tip: never argue with a Marine giving a karate demonstration.

Never Quit

I have a confession to make. I've been out of work for seven months (courtesy of some health issues I've previously discussed, but I go back at the end of September), and I'm not happy with the way I look. This morning on a doctor's scale I weighed a whopping 205 lbs., way up from my sparring heyday of 178. (I used to be 5 ft 10; I'm currently 5 ft 9. I have a medium frame.) A lot of this is just due to my inactivity, but also, to my defense, it's age related. I turn 63 in October, and my body just doesn't do what it used to do. Not just willful physical activity, whether it's performing job duties or exercising in my basement gym/dojo, but also trying to keep my weight down, recover from minor injuries, and incentive to do otherwise menial tasks. I find myself actually having to push myself to go on my daily one-mile walk. My strength and stamina in the gym over the years has diminished significantly, and when I confided this to a friend, he replied, "why bother pumping iron if you just keep getting weaker?"

"Alright," I replied. "What do you suppose would happen if I just completely stopped working out?"

Stopping my workouts is not an option for me. Perish the thought! But naturally I have to modify a routine to accommodate my pre-existing injuries. And as of late I need serious motivation—fortunately fate came to the rescue. The other day a co-worker texted me a bodybuilding routine Bruce Lee created in 1965, before he became a star cinematically (although by this time Lee was an in-demand martial arts instructor). This flow chart, I'm assuming, is a catalog of exercises to be performed in a single session. It's a list of mostly upper body/arm exercises, but I really like how the first item is squats. Never skip leg day. I'm glad Lee knew his priorities.

As Lee's status as a star rose he continued his self created bodybuilding routine that emphasized both strength and muscular endurance. At  5 ft 7 1⁄2 and 140 lbs, Lee was not not an overtly formidable presence. But his devotion to fitness paid off. Chuck Norris once said that Lee was, pound for pound, the strongest human being he has ever trained with.

While Lee was making gains in the gym, he began to adjust his diet and cardio exercises that accelerated his body's ability to burn fat. In the 1965 photo above, I would guess his body fat percentage to be about 12. The pic below taken from Enter The Dragon (1973) depicts a much leaner version of Lee, evident with a marked increase in muscular definition and striations. I'd put his body fat here at about 7 percent. Understand that this level of body fat is quite low, even for an athlete, and is very difficult to achieve without resorting to sports enhancing drugs. (There is no respectable evidence that Lee used steroids or the like to achieve his physique. I'm also fairly confident this photo has not been enhanced.)

In the 1960s, bodybuilding routines were considered taboo for some sports, especially boxing. There are traditional exercises in karate that emphasize grip strength and isometric tension, but little else that bear any semblance to a modern muscle building regimen. 

As a martial artist Lee was ahead of his time in a few ways (e.g., he loathed the concept of styles as he saw them as inherently dogmatic), and embraced modernity, innovation, and common sense. However, several years later, Lee was training with weights and endured a serious back injury that incapacitated him for some time. (A detailed account of this can be found in this article.) Lee was about 30 when this happened, and somehow plowed through this and continued with his movie career until his untimely death from an allergic reaction to a pain killer (for a headache) just a few years later. I sustained a similar, albeit less severe injury to my back performing barbell squats when I was 36. At the time, I was working for the same company I'm at now, didn't see a doctor, and didn't miss a single day of work. I was lucky, the problem eventually resolved itself. Youth has its advantages. An injury like that now would likely put me out on permanent disability. 

These days I still train when I'm up to it, but I don't do barbell squats or heavy lifting anymore. And definitely no sparring with someone I don't know. With age comes wisdom.

The Mythos of Kata

A student once asked me if it was possible to learn karate without learning the pre-arranged forms (kata). Of course it's possible. But this notion of "knowing karate" without kata is taken as an affront to a tradition and culture that is foreign to many of us. But let me ask you this: do you think memorizing an entire catalogue of block-and-strike sequences will allow you to prevail in a fight? And how many forms are there in your karate syllabus? In Isshinryu there are a total of eight karate (empty handed) kata, but some styles contain dozens! Why so many? Conversely, Chojun Miyagi, the famous founder of Goju-ryu karate, would exhort his students to train on just a single (!) form for years before being considered for advancement. Entire books have been written on the Sanchin kata, an ancient form of Chinese origin that emphasizes isometric muscle contractions and constricted breathing techniques used to refine ki (chi or qi).

A high ranking Isshinryu instructor once described a training session he once had many years ago with Grand Master Seikichi Odo of Okinawa Kenpo karate. A veritable "collector of kata", Odo-sensei was described as having a petite build, barely over five feet tall, but possessed an innate kind of strength that was indescribable. In karate, chinkuchi refers to a type of focused energy that is the stuff of legends. In reality, developing this kind of mystical super human strength is probably the by-product of decades of training and performing certain moves tens of thousands of times.

I put the word mythos in this blog title to be a bit provocative. It's just a recurring theme in culture or tradition that may or may not be true. But is it a myth that kata will translate into being a competent fighter? 

Consider this tale:

Kuwada had begun martial arts training with the desire of becoming feared by all men. But he soon discovered there was no short-cut to his transformation into a master.

Discouraged by the incessant kata training, Kuwada asked his sensei, "When are we going to learn something else? I've been here for quite some time, and it's kata, kata, kata, everyday."

When the sensei gave no reply, Kuwada went to the assistant to the master and made the same inquiry. He was told, "The kata training is to polish your mind. It is better to shave your mind than your head. Understand?"

Kuwada did not understand, and in protest, he left the dojo, embarking on a notorious career as the best street fighter in Shuri. He was tough. No doubt about it. "A fight a night" was Kuwada's motto, and he often bragged, "I'm not afraid of a living man."

One night, Kuwada eyed a stranger walking calmly alongside a stone wall. It irritated Kuwada to see such composure in a person. He ran to the cross section of the road and waited for the man to pass.

When he did, Kuwada jumped out and threw a punch, but the man avoided the blow and grabbed Kuwada's arm. As he pulled Kuwada toward him, the man calmly stared into his eyes. Kuwada tried to pull away, but he could not. For the first time in his life, Kuwada felt a strange emotion—fear of defeat.   

When the man let him go, Kuwada ran, but he glared back to see the man calmly walk away as if nothing had happened. Kuwada later discovered the man was a master of kata; a martial artist who had never engaged in a fight in his life.*

 The summation of the story, "He who conquers himself is the greatest warrior" is banal. Tales like this are meant to be inspiring, but they're misleading. If you've never engaged in a fight, you'll never be prepared for the real thing by being a "master of kata". As Okinawan street fighting pioneer Choki Motobu (d. 1944) advised,“Nothing is more harmful to the world than a martial art that is not effective in actual self-defense.”

 

*Richard Kim 1974. The Weaponless Warriors. Ohara Publications, Inc.

We Can Rebuild Him

Father Time has once again taken its toll on my body. I'm annoyed, to put it mildly, that a lifetime of clean living, diet, and fitness has resulted in a now-beaten up body. Over the past three years I've incurred numerous episodes of arthritis that has resulted in herniated discs, knee and elbow pain, and as of late, a full-shoulder replacement surgery that has kept me out of work since roughly the beginning of the year. (See above—yes, that is my new left shoulder!) 

It's been suggested that my years of sparring and performing endless drills of kihon (karate basics) may have led to this, but I don't think so. My chiropractor friend says I should be able to punch through cement blocks now with my bionic implant. Yeah, sure.

While I was awaiting my procedure it was revealed during a pre-op test that I had atrial fibrillation (a-fib), and a later discovery of right-handed weakness and atrophy, the latter diagnosed by a pinched nerve in my cervical spine. I'm currently wearing a Holter monitor to address the a-fib. As funny as this may sound, I'm in otherwise good shape.

Though I haven't been working for several months, my union is still paying my medical insurance. I'm very grateful my other health issues came to light now so I can address everything during my leave of absence.

Sometimes good news is disguised as bad news, but you never really know. There may be a cosmic lesson hidden in this so-called misfortune of mine, but who knows? As the Stones sang, "You can't always get what you want...you just might find you get what you need."

For clarification, a Zen story:

 

There was an old farmer who had worked his crops for many years. One day his horse ran away. Upon hearing the news, his neighbors came to visit. “Such bad luck,” they said sympathetically. “Maybe,” the farmer replied.

The next morning the horse returned, bringing with it three other wild horses. “How wonderful,” the neighbors exclaimed. “Maybe,” replied the old man.

The following day, his son tried to ride one of the untamed horses, was thrown, and broke his leg. The neighbors again came to offer their sympathy on his misfortune. “Maybe,” answered the farmer.

The day after, military officials came to the village to draft young men into the army. Seeing that the son’s leg was broken, they passed him by. The neighbors congratulated the farmer on how well things had turned out.

“Maybe,” said the farmer.

Toxic Masculinity

There was a movie a few years back called The Art of Self Defense. Despite the unassuming title, the film explores the pitfalls of encountering the wrong dojo to train at. The lead character is a milquetoast pushover who's afraid of his own shadow. After getting beaten and robbed he decides he's had enough and ends up taking karate lessons from a deranged sensei who encourages his new charge to be a violent psychopath. The student takes his misguided teachings into the real world with predictable results. I won't spoil things by revealing more, but not surprisingly, the story does not end well. Cultish behavior is nothing new in the martial arts, and with the advent of social media, young men are finding inspiration in the rather vile corners of the internet. 

My son asked me recently if I ever heard of a retired kickboxing/MMA competitor named Andrew Tate. I hadn't, so with a little digging I found that after Tate retired from competition he started to monetize online courses on how to get rich and "male-female interactions." His Hustler's University turned out to be a pyramid scheme targeting young men who were buying into his hype to become an alpha male. An alpha is the apex of male aggression and dominance hierarchy in the animal kingdom. Primatologist Robert Sapolsky has studied this in non-human primates and its relation to the highly stratified social structure of baboons*. In humans, being an alpha male is associated with narcissism, entitlement and even misogyny. In layman's terms, human alpha males are highly predisposed to just being assholes.

Tate's net worth supposedly puts him in the neighborhood of 50 million USD, but has since been kicked off numerous social media platforms (where he earns most of his money) for inciting violence and dehumanizing speech, particularly aimed at women. As of this writing, Tate sits in a jail cell in Romania awaiting a judge's decision regarding Tate's (and three others') involvement in a human trafficking scheme using women to create pornography for profit, among other charges including rape. I don't know if Tate's years as a world champion martial arts competitor led to his self-indulgent dysfunctional worldview of male dominance. Maybe he got messed up as a kid. A long held psychology axiom states that events that occur during childhood can reveal themselves in unpredictable ways later in life. I doubt that an undertaking in a traditional martial art style during his formative years would've put him on the right path (budo), but who knows? Would an early-life intervention have made a difference in a guy like Tate?

Jason Wilson runs a youth program for troubled boys in Detroit called The Cave of Adullam Transformational Training Academy, a quasi-martial arts facility that "is not a martial arts school but a Transformational Training Academy." Wilson, the chief instructor who cites a background in jiu-jitsu, judo, and kempo (but doesn't hold rank in any of these styles), teaches young men in a traditional dojo-setting the values needed to become an upright man and a decent citizen. Wilson muses how some martial artists can attain a black belt in their chosen style, but remain a white belt in the game of life.

"When I first started the CATTA, there were many “Scared Straight” programs in Michigan, and I had even participated in a couple", says Wilson. "However, I quickly discovered that inflicting trauma will never help a boy release it but instead teach him to suppress it. Nowadays, you’ll be hard-pressed to find a Scared Straight or Bootcamp program because discipline without love is ineffectual."

Maybe that's the antidote to toxic masculinity in young men: The understanding that the best and even worst of us have an innate need to love and to be loved. And the sooner the better. As The Beatles famously sang, "Love is all you need."

Happy Holidays and Happy New Year!

*Robert M. Saplolsky 2017. Behave: The Biology of Humans at Our Best and Worst. Penguin Press.

A Pillar Of The Community

Here's a nice story for this time of the year. Meet Jeffrey Wall, a 16-year-old black belt practitioner in the art of Tang soo do who teaches senior citizens in his spare time. I saw this featured on on a cable news show tonight, and I couldn't pass up the opportunity to share this heartwarming and inspiring tale here. Enjoy!

Trump Gets His Black Belt

Yesterday at Mar-a-Lago, the former US president Donald Trump received an honorary 9th degree black belt in the Korean martial art of tae kwon do. It should be noted that Trump is not the only world political figure to be bestowed such an honor. In 2013, Russian president Vladimir Putin was awarded the same honor  during a visit to South Korea. 

Though neither man has actually ever practiced tae kwon do, Putin does hold a black belt in judo, an art he has been training in since he was 11. 

As an Okinawan karate practitioner, my articles on tae kwon do have been comparatively limited. So here is a good opportunity to list the philosophical tenets of the martial art:

 

• Courtesy: Politeness and respect for others, behaving in a well-mannered and civil fashion.
• Integrity: Showing good character, honesty, and decency.
• Perseverance: The willingness to continue to struggle against all odds to reach a goal.
• Self-Control: Keeping one's emotions, desires, and impulses in check, particularly in difficult or trying circumstances.
• Indomitable Spirit:  An attribute shown when a courageous person and his principles are pitted against overwhelming odds. Unconquerable.

 

Like other arts, tae kwon do endeavors to make not just good fighters, but good people who possess inner strength and moral rectitude. These are attributes anyone should aspire to. 

While one could only hope an 'honorary' black belt can produce such a result on its own, I respectfully have my doubts.

Spinal Health, Meditation, and Aging Gracefully

Recently an attorney admonished a high profile political figure for not having the "courage and spine" to commit to what could be construed as a treasonous act. This is relevant, as being upright is considered moralistic, a hallmark of martial arts philosophy. Notwithstanding the clever use of metaphors, having a strong spine is essential for overall physical health. I found this out at my job about two months ago when I attempted to lift a modestly heavy container onto a hand truck causing excruciating pain in my back. An MRI has revealed two herniated discs causing nerve impingements that make work (for now) impossible. In the meantime, a pair of steroid epidurals has eased some of my pain, hopefully with lasting results.

In a previous post I've talked about my earlier diagnosis with scoliosis (spine curvature) in a positive way; how the spinal rotation in my back may have actually aided my efforts to perform spin-kicks. When I tell other practitioners this, I'm usually met with incredulity. They think I'm nuts. I'm just trying to look on the bright side. It's a coping mechanism. But as I enter my 62nd year on this realm, making lemonade out of lemons is becoming trickier. I have scoliosis, herniated discs, and an arthritic spine, something I don't relish as I approach my retirement years. Forrest Morgan, author of Living the Martial Way, divulged in an interview that degenerative arthritis is the reason for his cessation in martial arts training, though he still enjoys low-impact cardio and weight training for fitness. I'm currently doing neither.

When I told a fellow karate-ka about my blown out discs, he said to me, in all sincerity, it likely occurred because when I meditate I may be concentrating too hard on my hara. The hara (or dantian), considered the seat of power (ki) in Japanese martial arts and the site of the third chakra in Indian mysticism, roughly corresponds to the physical location of the lumbar spine injury that is wreaking havoc on my ability to go to work or basically do anything else.

Who knows, maybe I am meditating the wrong way. Is that even possible? When Western medicine first encountered meditation in the early twentieth century it was posited that seizures, psychosis, and even death could occur to the overly eager neophyte navel-gazer. I have no plans to give up my regimen of meditation, however, my future is uncertain. One euphemism for karate is "self-defense"; I need to take care of myself. We all do. I have bills to pay, but I need to tend to my health, and I find myself at a crossroads. I'm not even sure what that means for me. Time will tell. I'll have to pick some destination, no matter how uncertain it may be right now. As Yogi Berra once offered, "When you get to the fork in the road, take it."

Magic

Lately, on martial arts threads I see online, it seems that traditional martial arts (TMA) have fallen out of favor. Apparently if you're not training for life-and-death or the Octagon, you're spinning your wheels. But in the idealistic past we've had TMA heroes gracing the big or little screen that seemed larger than life. Bruce Lee, Chuck Norris and the TV show Kung Fu inspired us. It was David Carradine's portrayal of Caine, the Shaolin monk turned cowboy that inspired me to bug my parents to enroll me in my first martial arts class. Carradine was not really a kung fu practitioner of note, but that didn't matter to me. Norris once quipped that Carradine was about as qualified a martial artist as he (Norris) was a gifted stage actor, but I digress. Both of them presented martial arts in a very positive way. I miss that. And in its place we have to witness internet squabbles over full-contact sports like Muay Thai and judo, versus aikido, wing chun, tae kwon do, karate, or any other TMA du jour that's on the radar of these basement-dwelling chat-room pseudo cage fighters when they should be out looking for a job. To be fair, not all critics fall into this category. But then, the qualified critics, those with real combat, security, or fighting experience, (usually) can't be bothered airing their grievances on reddit. 

In 1984, The Karate Kid movie became a surprise hit. And in its wake, martial arts schools flourished. Enrollment doubled and tripled overnight, especially with kids, but what made this movie unique was the feature of the tournament. So between charging for lessons, belts and tournaments, karate school owners raked in the bucks. It's my opinion that kata and point-matches for trophies and colored belts have been both good and detrimental to karate. By the early 90s MMA came to the US, courtesy of a Brazilian clan's rendition of jiu-jitsu. A corner was turned, and there was no going back. 

In the old days, TMA were held as magic. We believed, because we had Kato and Lone Wolf McQuade and Mr. Miyagi there to give us faith. They were the good guys. I believed, because I wanted to believe that the style of karate that I espoused gave me a chance to be something greater than I was. Maybe I was naïve. I was young, what did I know? 

Today, critcal thinking reigns, so when we see a video of a "master" knocking out his student via hypnotic gaze, we know better. But these cringey clips, along with qi strikes and 7-year-old black belts, these things by default get relegated to TMA. And that's a shame. Still in spite of it all, the karate that I know, somehow, still possesses something magical.

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