By Charles P. Eberson
Senior Moments
My wife tells me I have to socialize more. I must develop new friendships. A few years ago, I lost my best friend. Another friend lives in Arizona, and one lives in West Virginia. We maintain contact through the phone or social media, but it is not like we are going out for beers anytime soon. Cultivating new friendships is problematic under the best of circumstances. However, refreshing old friendships is within the realm of possibilities.
A few years ago, I ran into Joe (not his real name) at a pizza shop in Ocean City. We hadn’t seen each other in over 40 years. We chatted and promised to get together, but we never did. A few months ago, we ran into each other again in ShopRite and again spoke about a reunion. Still, we never managed to pull it off. A few weeks ago, I reached out to Joe and he invited me to visit him at his dojo (karate studio). Joe and I used to train together in the martial arts from the lower belt levels up until we were training each other for our black belt test. Life being what it is, Joe took one path and I took another. Then, we lost touch. Joe continued his martial arts training. He became a highly regarded practitioner and sensei (teacher). I was honored to be invited and arrived at the dojo.
I arrived with expectations of a relaxed, friendly encounter with Joe and his students. I also had one ibuprofen under my belt. That day, there were only two other students present, with all of us of similar ages. We lined up across from each other, and Joe told us we were going to warm up with 100 jumping jacks. I don’t think I have done 100 jumping jacks in my entire life. Joe told me that if I couldn’t do 100, do whatever I could but keep moving until everyone is finished. I did about 60 for fear that my calves would blow up like grapefruits and I would have to Uber home, but I kept moving in a style reminiscent of the Riverdance and Michael Jackson’s “Thriller” music video.
What followed was a series of stretching, self-defense tactics and drills. Then, he said it was weapons time. I was asked which weapon I would like to train with. Since the 9 mm was out of the question, I chose the bo staff, a six-foot-long polished dowel about an inch thick. Sensei Joe instructed me on blocking, disarming and strikes to the head and body. I felt that should I happen to be walking down the street carrying my bo staff and encounter an attacker with a bo staff, I would be well prepared. In actuality, the drills are more of an exercise in tradition.
Two hours into the session, sensei Joe asked if I wanted to hit the speedball, a volleyball-sized ball suspended from the ceiling with a bungee cord and attached to the floor with a cord. Not wanting to insult the dojo, I agreed. Two three-minute rounds went by with me striking this wildly dancing ball. Then, the class was over. Thoroughly gassed, I returned home to hydrate and take my second ibuprofen.
All in all, I learned a few things. It is important to socialize. It is also important to keep moving; at any age and into my 70s, even more so. The only other thing left now is to wait for the lactic acid machine that is my body to do its inevitable thing and hope my ibuprofen does what it promises to do.
Charles Eberson has been in the newspaper business for over 25 years. He has worked as a writer, advertising executive, circulation manager and photographer. His photography can be viewed at charles-eberson.fineartamerica.com
