VFF

"I feel the earth move under my feet . . ."
Carol King
Like this . . . www.youtube.com/watch?v=hoHuxpa4h48&feature=related

Saturday, into sf for MH 9:30.  I am gonna do doubles on all chaturangas which goes well, but I am weak in side plank on left which is unusual and clearly a result of kbells 14 hours before and extreme heat.  Ten minutes left in class MH calls me out for sweating:  "we are going to have to burn that mat; that is just nasty."  Love you too bro.
Driving along MG, the bay is flat, there is no wind to speak of and sailboats are motoring wistfully.  As always, I think about living on kia ora twenty one years ago and how I am sorry I ever got off and how much I need to get back on. 
On way back up I just gotta stop in to Arch Rival, I need shoes and it's stupid to buy anything else and I can't wait any longer for CS to stop being a dick.  They have kso's that'll fit, though the gray and pea green is an ugly color on my wide dwarvish foot.  No sprints, next pair.  I do so some step back lunges to the amusement of the store crowd and am sold.  Wanna do inaugural walk in marsh, but it is so hot.  Run around buying shit and nap late instead of walking Rose who looks at me like the traitor I am, ball play.  Gee thanks.
Sunday, in the marsh by 7:45 am and I am lovin' the vff after about two steps.  Gorgeous morning, not too hot yet and the birds are not yet hunkered down and are loud.  We meet only a few other walkers and the all have labs, yes don't we all love our dogs so and aren't we smart people for having friends give us a good breed for the dog we did not want.
Evening after Rose bathes and after Brigid's 1500 calorie ham and cheese settles in it is time to bring it:
10+10 step back lunges, 20kg
warm up presses, then 1-3 28kg ladders, both sides.
5+5 sls
10+10 28kg rows
3x
30/30 20 28kg swings to 1+1 28kg tgu x10.  That swing/tgu fest takes a solid 35 minutes  Only way it feels lighter is to swing heavier and it's time.
This morning on elliptical quick 20 minutes to get some steady cardio in; JH comes up, she has just come from a clinic with Valery Federenko and is pretty pumped and wants to do a session with me and her much younger client to practice all the stuff she learned.  Her enthusiasm is genuine and in three years she has never pitched me, so you bet.  She looks like barbed wire, graceful barbed wire; an extreme level of fitness reserved for those under 30 and she has years to go.  I want Brigid to see these young women, she could be there.
Late pm, Pradeep class.  He makes me better.  He has my hand on foot in reverse triangle, all the way up in wheel.  I am what I think is laid out in triangle, he comes by and pulls another inch out of my arm and works a ever so slight kink out of the front leg.  A pro.
Stay in shorts and workout gear for the 7:20 boat, down Market in the vff; nice look counselor. 
Awesome, one more foot song, blows Carol out of the water . . . turn it UP. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2ZEMmewFj6k&feature=related

Gummi Bear

"Women and cats will do as they please and men and dogs should relax and get used to the idea."
Robert A. Heinlein

Good news for Gummi Bear yesterday.  Turns out the hacking cough that wakes Rose and I at 4:00 a.m. and causes Rose to gaze at me even more dolefully than usual is not caused by a tumor.  It is not the product of a cancerous mass pressing on Gummi Bear's trachea.  Had it been, it would have meant down with a lethal dose, rather than up for adoption, the latter a likely end since Gummi Bear is otherwise cute and eager and will make some housebound soul a fine, if larcenous, companion.
Gummi Bear is the default name for the dog I wanted to name macebell after it, and not a macebell, showed up on my 51st birthday.  I did not really expect a macebell.  Nor did I expect (another sign I have learned nothing in the past 20 years) an old stray dog with rotten teeth which C picked up off the street.  The dog was taken to the Marin Humane society the next day, where they promptly shaved it and pulled all its teeth, save the two front lower.  The stray dog has spent the last month trying to figure out how to arrange its lips when it shuts its mouth, which is not often as it barks and howls a lot.  It is silent only when asleep or when sneaking around on the table stealing food, at which it is adept.  Since it has not settled on a consistent lie for its lips over the recently toothless gums, Gummi's countenance is random collection of odd cheerful sneers accompanied by a constantly wagging tail.

But we are quite happy for Gummi Bear.  Yesterday afternoon, Brigid and I were discussing what we would do if the hack was caused by a cancerous mass.  We both reached the same conclusion quickly: the dog goes down, stat.  Her saying, "Dad, I don't want to live with that dog waiting for it to die."  Read:  "Father, could you please intercede and get that dog out of here so the kitchen and family room are NOT turned into some drama filled canine death row.  Would you please just man the fuck up ?"
I have been promised Gummi Bear's happy departure by Tuesday.  Stay tuned, or don't.

Saturday, three mile marsh walk in the am.  PM like,
15/15 Max V02, 16kg, 7 rep pace, x 50.
Sunday, walk, then into sf for ct class.  She calls out 50 swings to start and I pretty much immediately rip callouses on both hands after prior day's snatch fest.  We do a lot of non-swing work which is a relief and we hit floor presses which are good, she presses me to the 28 which is great and all in all it is a good time notwithstanding the fact that I can't grip a bell for shit.  It'll be the last class for three weeks and I already know I'll miss ct's genial drill instructor style and fine mix of micro and macro movement and considerable raw intelligence.
Monday, smoking Pradeep class late, waiting in the absurdly long line to start he clasps my hand warmly and expresses his sincere thanks for me coming to his class.  Namaste, to you too my friend.
Tuesday, hit gym late.
5 burpees to double 24kg suitcase deads, three pushups each
10 24kg GS
Presses,
5+5 16kg, 3+3 24kg. 1+1x2 32kg
5+5 single leg deads 24kg to 8 double 32 sumo deads
3x
TRX to let hands heal, 10 row to 10w to 10+10 low to high woodchoppers
3x
Wednesday, 4 miles

Thursday, three mile marsh walk with Rose and Brigid.  Day spent in divorce court where very stupid lawyer spends five hours trying to elicit privileged testimony from my lawyer client.  98% of my objections were sustained and the first dumb question after lunch has me bitching to the judge who admonishes counsel to get on with it and stop wasting everyone's time.  Counsel only spends two hours after that, much of which is consumed by the judge's academic soliloquies on why he is in fact going to sustain my objections.  Respondent's counsel and I are incredulous; this is Alice in Wonderland, never has anyone consumed so much time just to agree with me upon the obvious.  We finally escape at 3:30, five monosyllabic answers in hours on the stand.  I stagger in at 4:30, pleased that I'll get a Rose walk in before running off to Ian's BTS.  The kitchen looks like a bomb went off, no one has rinsed or put away a dish in 24 hours and I nearly blow a fucking gasket.  Brigid quickly volunteers to come with me and clean up after and we adjourn to the calming influence of marsh and retriever and make our pact re Gummi Bear's fate should the news be bad.
Today.  Marin Superior all morning, then to wf and Traders Joe's parking lot working and wrapping up week.
It's fucking hot in Novato.  Indian Summer here is not like sf; it is not a time for hanging on Baker beach or Crissy field or Bean Hollow south; it is just plain hot.  I wait until the backyard is out of direct sun and try to hit it.  Goes hard like this:
20/20 x 8, 10 pushup pace
20 tactical lunges, 20kg
1-5+1-5 press ladders, 24kg
10 bootstrap squats, 20kg
3x, save just 10 push-ups circuits 2,3 to get to 100.  This is harder than I expected, the weather enervating and have not eaten or drank enough.  Grind through and press sets get better.
30/30 20 24 kg swings x 10 to finish.

I bbq steak late.  Family (sort of) dinner and I take Ian to do night marsh walk.  Conspiring with Brigid, she hides in back cause he won't go if she will; he is surprised when she pops up and quickly clearly he could care less.  We spill into the marsh at 9:45 under a bright moon.  Ian is shining, listening to Tales From a Topographic Ocean and chattering on.  Rose races in and out of eye and earshot overjoyed at her good fortune.  Brigid quiet, tired, along for the trip.  It is a beautiful night; this is as good as it gets and could not love it more.

Very dangerous over short distances . . .

""I want to get back to basics, I want to play saxophone. I've started to love playing straight-ahead again" 
 Sadao Watanabe, 2007 interview

As he did last night at Yoshi's.  They should have billed it Sadao and his three Ninja Assassins.  Sadao up there with three guys less than half his age, killing it.  Danny Grissett, piano.  Johnathan Blake, drums.  Ben Williams, bass.  Huge musical talents just laying it out there, straight ahead no frills.  Again, no dumbing it down for the audience .  No smooth jazz.  It's ok to play two ballads in a row.  Sadao a gracious gracious man letting all that young talent just stretch it out.  Ben Williams, a kid in dreadlocks suit and tie driving the bottom.  Grissett pouring out notes and holding it down with his left hand.  Blake shifting from sticks to brushes, so laying so far back on the ballads you thought he was gonna drop the beat but always there at just the last millisecond.
The room was maybe 2/3 full, as one guy in front of me said, "well I came to see McCoy Tyner, but I guess that's next week."  Hope he was not disappointed.

Saturday
Yoga, then 12:30 ct class.  She focuses a lot on joint mobility and form, not a blazing workout which was a welcome relief after pretty athletic MH class.  Remedial swing clinic for some class members turns into great tip for swing work later in week.
Sunday, three mile marsh walk with Ian and 5 and his pack and we go to Finnegan's watch in awe as Ian slams a triple cheese burger.  Opening day of NFL and Raiders and Niners suck.  Badly.
Monday.  Busy in office, rush home cause their mother will be late and head out back like so:
ankle tilts and circles
5+5 x 2 pushups to 20 kg renegade rows
10 suitcase deads, 28 and 32
press ladder 5+5 16 up to 1+1 32.  Last circuit triple on the 28 both sides and double on 32 right, three tries to get a rep out on 32 left.  Patience.
10 24 kg goblet squats
3x
Go heavy or go home swing work. 15/15 ten reps x 10 32 then straight into 28.  13,200 pounds swung in ten minutes, fucking gassed halfway through 28's but just grind it out.  Oh yeah.
Tuesday, busy, 2.6 miles at the end.  That's all.
Wednesday, squeeze in three miles am, then 5:15 MH, good class flanked by lovelies.  I'm old, not dead.
Thursday, late pm:
pushups, 20/20 8x10, 80 in five minutes
Double 16kg squat to press
10+10 rows, 60lb dumbell
5+5 slsx2, second with 12kg bu
3x, ten really slow five count pushup circuits 2,3 to bring total to 100

30/30 24kg swings, 20x10 1+1 24kg tgu for active rest.  Focus on simultaneous knee bend and hip snap results in uber ballistic swings, clamp abs and lats down keeping it low.  Smoking swing work out.

Humming, incoming from vk about sk's half ironman.  Good for him; Gimli here would die on the run.
Today,
into marsh with Rose by 7:20, three miles.  Scramble all day, will be busy weekend.

Pradeep class, 4:30-5:30, yes, you have all you need.

Brigid comes in on the ferry so we can meet and head up to Yoshi's.  I meet her out front and she immediately starts in on the horrific car accident in Novato.  11:50 am, five high school kids in a bmw 7 series, beer and liquor in car driving at high speed lose control and slam into cattle truck, killing one, severely injuring two.   Driver, minor injuries, arrested in hospital for DUI.  Medivac helicopters over her school for lunchtime.

It is the parents' fault.  What kind of parent hands the keys to a $70,000 high performance sports sedan to their high school age kid ?  The same kind of parent who is either blind to, or unable to effectively deal with, the fact that their kid is so devoid of judgment that they are drinking before noon and joyriding with their friends with utterly predictable results.  I can't but help but launch into lecture mode with Brigid, "don't get in the car,"  "tell them to let you out, I will come get you wherever you are"  She is already there.
She has no problems with lecture tone, is silent for a minute and I feel bad about dimming Sadao's glow, but am pretty upset about the picture of her in class a quarter mile away from kids being air listed to trauma centers in Santa Rosa.  She brings it back, says:  "Dad, let's stop and buy Junior Mints and watch Firefly when we get home."  You got it babe, who could say no.  Be another ten sets of snatches tomorrow, but that's just fine.

No Fear

"We are going to let the musicians stretch out; in fact, we are going to require it.
We hear a lot of don't's.  Don't play so fast.  Don't play too many notes, too many changes.  Don't leave out the hook.
And all that comes from a place of fear.  Fear of no commercial success.  Fear that the kids will cover their ears; fear that the old folks will hate it.  Fear that all the hot chicks will move on to the next club.  Tonight we come to you from a place of no fear.  This is music musicians want to play."
Stanley Jordan, rap to intro "Return Voyage", Yoshi's SF, 9/6, 8.

The consistent takeaway from the world class musicians I've had the complete pleasure of meeting in the last three months is their need to play to the audience.  To dumb it down.  To satisfy the perceived desires of the mainstream with smooth jazz pablum.  Heard it from drummers, guitarists, pianists.  Monster musicians frustrated beyond words; the talent is better than it ever was.  The skill level is on par with elite athletes, the training and prep.  But the audience ain't there.  As one of the finest jazz pianists on the planet said to me:  "I like to play it rough; my jazz is lumpy.  But that's not what they come to hear."
Stanley blew that out of the water.  The man breathes and must bleed music.  Screams genius.  And the audience responded.  The others need to have more faith.  Our elected officials should be so audacious.

Been a while and I can't remember what the fuck I've done; I do know I have not lightened up.
8/30, four miles
8/31, mh stiff guy, three in am
9/1, kettlebell workout I don't remember, something too like what was done before and again after.
9/2, EH class
9/3, do remember this:
15 pushups, hands on med balls, feet elevated
10 squat to press, 80lb barbell
5+5 sls, bw, then 12kg bu
20 walking lunges, 35lb dumbbells in each
3x
20 24kg swings, 1+1 24kg tgu, x 10.
Home to ball play, scotch and streaming Bonnaroo per the above in honor of Labor day kickoff.  No, my calves are not fat, I have no cankles.  That is relaxed muscle and I will kick your fucking ass.
Sunday, three mile dog walk with 5.
Monday, three mile dog walk.
Into sf, drop Ian for movie, hit MG as follows:
10 knee ups
Press work,
5+5 16, 4+4 20, 3+3 24, 2+2 28, 1+1 32.  Killing all, both sides.
10 24 kg goblet squats
10+10, 28kg rows
3x, except third circuit 3+3 on the 28, and three singles each side for 32, very strong
20 28kg swings, 1+1 24kg x7, then 20x3 swings with brief rest each 20
Collect Ian and go have Stanley blow our minds, ask if he will do Wednesday if I can make it happen; he is right there.
Tuesday, mh noon class, rest is all court and work.  Walk in and Ian immediately says "you could not get tickets for tomorrow ?"  What have I done that he anticipates disappointment ?  I say no, we are doing it, he grins broadly, then catches himself.
Wednesday, three miles am.
PM:
20/20 10 pushups x 8
10 24kg gs
5 double 16 mp, 5 double 24kg mp
20 walking lunges, two 35lb
x3, 'cept ten pushups 2/3 to get to 100

15/15 snatches, 7 rep pace, x 40.

Thursday am, ct sends out group email calling me out for birthday festivities, yes I'll be your show dog pimp, not that I'm easy, it's just that you rock.
Late pm, client I have not heard from in months calls a 2:45, flipping.  Multiple six figures pulled from accounts by angry spouse.  Conflicted out, she calls yours truly because: "you're the nastiest, smartest lawyer I know."  Moi ?, why thank you, you don't get it, but thank you.  Talk her off the ledge, hit EH at 4:30.
Her class is a revelation.  Client parked in back of head.  EH just making us bring it.  Standing series toward end, cover of Comfortably Numb.  I am nearly bawling after a good week with Ian and she drops us into pidgeon during Trapeze Swinger and I am just gone, gone, gone.  I am sweating way too hard for her to rub the back of my neck, she does it with her voice.
Yanked back after, walking down Pine to ferry, client still flipping.  Texts/calls until 9:30, just listen and guide gently, there but for the grace of god go I.  No, you do not need a terrorist; you need someone who will tell you what you do not want to hear.
This morning, start of one of the more professionally satisfying days in memory.  Juggling SM duties, client freaking and demand letter fucking adroitly if I do say so myself.  By the end of the day, good report to judge re SM duties, client is thrilled with referral, off the ledge and talking.  Emails in pm setting up the week ahead, go in for 5:30 Pradeep class, he is scratched off for a sub.  Fuck it, its a rest day.  Home and my totally rocking daughter has dinner made.  Throw the ball for the dog, do not to feel self-satisfied, this bliss is temporary.  But looking forward to tomorrow and beyond.  Yee fucking ha.

Hurricane Party

T

"The hurricane party's windin' down and we're all waitin' for the end
And I don't want another drink, I only want that last one again
 It gave me such a fine glow, smokin' slow, now I should probably be homeward bound
There's just no one to talk to when the lines go down."
 James McMurtry, Hurricane Party

August 29; 51st anniversary of birth and 5th anniversary of Katrina.  Minor and major in the key of shitstorms.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lQI_lI0vC6Y&feature=related .  Hate the kind of part time pirates he sings of toward the end, just sit your drunk ass down.
No macebells, just bottles.  One Rodney Strong Pinot and and Glenlivet.  Those, and an old stray dog, recently shaved with no teeth, visiting for the weekend.  Not going to adopt, but if I did I'd name it macebell.

Friday, start way into City, but really don't need to so drop Ian and park in WF until 2:30 getting stuff done.  Late afternoon marsh walk with Ian and my constant companion.
Saturday, 9:30 am yoga,
then dinner with whole fam at Sara and Pat's.
This am.
Get up, take dog and second son for marsh walk.  Then into sf, buy him shit kicker boots at Dr. Martens, cute salesgirl.  Gettin' that something less than the Marilyn Manson look would be good.  We leave, park Ian at Daniel's, well shod.
Head to CT's.  We do a 10-15 minutes of mobility work, much of which is cloddish.  Then onto cc wall rows (120) a few swings, and then gs squats.  She says do birthday snatches, I thought 100 in five, she meant 51.  I go on a mission, they are amused and supportive.  We do 53 goblet squats in honor of Dan John.  Happy to do it and all feels good.  Whole session leaves me pumped and giddy.

Get home and bathe Barry.  He does a beautiful job, putting one foot, then the other gently on the step in the shower, washing himself carefully.  I shave him, he steps back under the water.  He has his left hand on heart, right hand on belly, reflexively, warm water running gently over his body.  His eyes closed, looks like Buddha.  I am bathed in warmth with him.
Yeah, it's a shitstorm, but it's my shitstorm.  Looking forward to a stronger 52, wherever the lines are.

Epistle to The Olympians

Dear parents, I write you this letter
Because I thought I'd better;
Because I would like to know
Exactly which way to grow.

My milk I will leave undrunk
If you'd rather have me shrunk,
If your love it will further kindle,
I'll do my best to dwindle;

Or, on the other hand,
Do you wish me to expand ?
I'll stuff like a greedy rajah
If you really want me larger.

All that I ask of you
Is to tell me which to do
To whisper in accents mild
The proper size for a child.

I get so very confused
By the chidings commonly used.
Am I really such a dunce
As to err two ways at once ?

When one mood you are in,
My bigness is my sin:
"Oh what a thing to do
For a great big girl like you!"

But then another time
Smallness is my crime;
"Stop doing whatever you're at
You're far too little for that!"

Kind parents, be so kind
As to kindly make up your mind
And whisper in accents mild
The proper size for a child.

Ogden Nash

They ought to send that one home with you from the hospital.  Stick it in the padded plastic bag, along with the stack of diapers that looks like it will last days but you quickly learn lasts hours.  Put it in there with the Enfamil (WTF ?), the thin blankets you can never have many of, and the pacifier you will probably toss unused with the bag two weeks later when it smells like baby poop and pee.
When they were young and separate rooms were not required to avoid bloodshed we used to do songs and stories.  End each night with poems and folk songs; Dad and the brood.  Got that ritual in for about seven years before Ian got sick of it and that was that, over too soon.  Mom never joined in and that may have the beginning of our isolation.

Don't know of any such quatrains for teenagers.  No verse about requests for money, scattered laundry, nerves, body odor and oily skin.  Mine will bust you for the mixed message though.  I told them, about fifth grade, they did not have to respect people just because they were older.  I told Brigid that after her otherwise uber hip gay fifth grade teacher sent her home for wearing a Steve Earle T-shirt with a red skull and sickle on it.  I agreed with her that was crap, and that some people and institutions are not entitled to respect and it was ok to view those that deserved it with contempt.  Ian got told earlier after they ran him out of Catholic schools.  The only caution given was to keep it to yourself if the target was in a position of authority.  They have developed keen noses for bullshit and I am paying dearly for my enlightened child-rearing. 

They started school this week.  Ian utilizing social media to check out all his teachers on fb.  "Is she a bitch?"  27 instant replies.  He thinks he will be ok.  Brigid is chattering constantly; she has been waiting for others to grow up around her for years and she quickly has been adopted as one of the cool freshman by maternal upper class girls.

They are drifting away as they should and need; we all must move on.

Thursday am, back feels like shit which surprised me.  DOMS at the shoulders and glutes.  4:30 60 minute EH, better.
Friday.  Office, then work until 4:30, on to Pradeep classes.  Go for 4:30-5:30, then onto 6:20.  Shower, B-day dinner with CT, adult conversation and delightful company; very nice of her.
Saturday.  Walk the dog with Brigid, then get out late, hot and gonna be hotter.  Goes like:
10 slow alternating push-ups to a T.
10 24 kg GS
Presses
few warm up 16's.  Then 1-5 l/r ladders, 24kg
5+5 20kg single leg deads
3x
Fully intend to go 200 swings 30/30 alternating 24 and 26, but at 60 it is time to shut it down cause back is not cooperating.
Sunday, three miles am with Rose.
PM, good 60 min. CT session., but back complains and we shut down some core work.
Monday, three miles, nada mas.
Tuesday, yoga 7am 8.  7:00 pm hour deal, CT does 10 minutes of Z drills waiting fro Renee, much better.
Wednesday.
Get into office, Purple, aka Craig Ainsworth, a 27 year old black man was murdered on the corner of 13th and Broadway at 9:20 the night before in a gang related shooting.  He was shot on the corner, staggered 40 feet and died in front of DeLaurers, where I buy the shit that is bad for me three times a week.
There is a makeshift shrine of candles and young folks milling about angrily, a few girls crying.  There is graffiti all over the walls of our office building, a memorial a mixture of expressions of sorrow and hate, notes in purple marker covered over by the heavy black pen of the rival gang.  "Sneak attack !" and "Smackdown!"  Some of the authors have obviously cut themselves and smeared their blood over their words.  I am standing on the sidewalk in suit and tie reading this stuff, stunned.  Our landlord Mo is on the sidewalk, chagrined at the news cameras, and wondering how long he has to wait before painting over Purple's memorial.
I have no frame of reference for this.  I don't know this world and don't want to.
I bail by 4:45 to get to MH's 5:15.
This morning the candles are gone but there is more graffitti.  I stop to read, but there are angry young men glaring at me, guarding the spot where Purple died and I get my white ass outta there.
Great EH class this evening.
Purple, you never had a chance.  Betting no one ever read you Ogden Nash, or sang Pete Seeger songs as you fell asleep.  This place is exactly as violent as it feels.  I would like to take away some lesson, but there is none, except I really don't know shit about much outside of my cocoon.  RIP Craig, gonna think of you every morning and every night when I walk past this spot, until I don't know when.  It will be a while.

Bewitched, Bothered & Bewildered

"I'm wild again
Beguiled again
A simpering whimpering child again
Bewitched bothered and bewildered am I"
Rogers&Hart, Pal Joey, Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered

Not really, but it's a great tune.  Babs gives it a good go here.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VbLz2DcxZEQ
But her version holds no candle to Betty Buckley's on Saturday night at Yoshi's.  It's one of the great things about many of the songs in American musical theater, they get better with age, both of the song and the singer.  Babs at 21 sings it, her chops are spine-tingling, but she is still schoolgirlish at 21.  Betty at 63 sings it, and sells it, and it has a whole different impact.  Wise, comfortable, joyful anticipation and resignation; she just slayed us.
What a dame.  Picked her up late afternoon Thursday, with her uber-competent assistant Cathy.  Felt like a dolt.  Brought B to see her Saturday at eight and she just killed it; Barry in stunned rapture let his ice cream melt he was so taken in.  Buy the t-shirt, she autographs and chats and gives him a big hug.

I pick her up Sunday morning to take her to the airport.  She and Cathy start right in on what a doll B is.  Ok, that's easy to hear.  Then Betty gets into her process, meditation, teaching, how she tries to get young singers to make it not about them, but giving to the audience, and says how cool it was to watch Barry on Saturday listening to her.  I am floored.  She talks about Memories, and (I will not do her justice here) how to get her head in the right place she would bring up an image of someone with down syndrome, use that for sense memory.  She goes on for some time about how important meditation techniques are for her work and her teaching and how she uses images of people with down syndrome.  No, she has never done Inside the Actor's Studio, Lipton needs to get her on, not be cute, and just let her talk.  A real treat to hear a world class talent talk so generously about what she does, and tell me she digs my kid to boot.  Big hugs at the airport, she and Cathy are off; I'm still trying not to blubber.
 Oh yeah, and her piano player Christian Jacob ?  Monster.  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1HBISHfWaxQ.  Very interesting to hear his take on current jazz audiences.  He never really cut loose with Betty, but his playing and the inter-play was riveting.

Thursday, drop Betty off and its a half hour gut buster ego check with CT.  300 swings 28-20.  Wall push-ups.  Invert and its hello belly, ugh.
Friday, three miles in am, work all day the then weekend kicks off with 75 minutes with Pradeep starting at 5:30.  Smoking smoking energetic class.  Gonna take many many more of these.
Saturday.  Walk the dog and feel like shit.  Sleep most afternoon then into Betty.
Sunday.  After dropping Betty off hour long session on marina green.  CT has me sprinting for the first time in maybe 15 years, feels rock solid.  Thank you kettlebells.
Monday, three miles am.  Good day at work, then 5:30 Pradeep class, another smoker.  It is fast and hard but the tablas keep it going.
Tuesday.  Gonna work out at home late, but incoming from Peter leaves me in TJ's lot too late so nothing.  That's fine.
Today.  Three miles am.  Good billing day.  Into gym at 5:30 goes like:
5 slow pushups, Sgt. Ken style
20 tactical lunges, 16kg
Press work
7 double 16kg
3 double 24kg
1+1 32kg
shaky first circuit.  Three singles each side on the third though.
20 walking lunges, two 35lb dumbbells
3x
Swings
30 24kg
1+1 24kg tgu
10 32kg swings
1+1 24kg tgu
Alternate that for ten, so five each.  Felt very very good.

Beguiled again.