Skills

The tinker-toy rockstar. What was he singing?
"Candy for a midnight snack!"
He even has the sneer down, doesn't he?

I think the word "skills" is forever tainted by my viewing of Napoleon Dynamite. If you've seen it, you know what I mean. "You know, like nunchuku skills, bow hunting skills, computer hacking skills... Girls only want boyfriends who have great skills." If this is true, then Zephyr is going to be one fine catch. In the past few months, I feel like all of Zephyr's favorite activities now fall under the category of "skills."

The uniform is a little big.
Those are supposed to be shorts.

First, basketball. We are extremely fortunate to be friends with the coach of a program called Pistoleros. Pistoleros is a free basketball clinic for children ages 5-10, but Zephyr was able to sneak in at 4 1/2. Starting in October, the kids practice for an hour once a week, and then get to perform their ball-handling skills at four college basketball games. Zephyr is probably the youngest and smallest Pistolero, but manages to focus very well during the practices, and performs with surprising nonchalance, despite the fact that thousands of people are theoretically watching him. The ball we bought him is junior-sized, but still pretty big for the little guy's hands. Instead of getting frustrated, he modifies some of the moves and persistently practices. We found a book on slam-dunks at the used book store, and have read it ad nausea. I feel a little heart tug when he says he wants to be a basketball player when he grows up. He doesn't know that Jon and I have genetically doomed him from such a future. Luckily, he will probably outgrow that ambition, and if not, well, Air Zephyr has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?

Next up, archery. I can't remember exactly when Zephyr became interested in shooting a bow. It may have been inspired by his friend Grady, who acquired a bow from his grandfather. Jon, who used to make bows as a hobby back when we had time for such things, may have introduced the idea. I remember Zephyr making a case for hunting with a bow several months ago. "It's less wasteful than using a gun," he insisted, "because you can reuse the arrow."

What amazing luck that our friend Carrie found this small compound bow while cleaning out her mother's garage on Christmas Eve. Zephyr is in seventh heaven. It's still a little too big for him to use comfortably, but that doesn't stop him. Did you notice he shoots left-handed? He just says it feels right to him that way.

He would probably sleep with it under his pillow if we let him.

Thank you, Carrie. If he ever graduates to actual hunting, maybe he can cook his prize at your place.

Lastly, and dearest to my heart, is Tae Kwon Do.

Jon and I met through martial arts, ten years ago this May. I believe we held an unspoken assumption that one day our kids would try out martial arts, but in the meantime, I was pushing for gymnastics. Perhaps my biggest life regret is that I can't turn a cartwheel; I didn't want my children to suffer the same fate.

Zephyr completed 400 kicks in a Kickathon yesterday!

Zephyr was invited to a TKD birthday party in December, and from the moment we left, he pestered me to sign him up, which I did on the very next business day. While he always seemed to enjoy his other classes, like kindermusik and gymnastics, they never quite resounded with his core like TKD does. A few weeks into classes, he commented, "I had been waiting a long time to start Tae Kwon Do." Not only is he eager to practice at home every day, but he'll also stay after class to tear it up in the practice room and watch more advanced classes. We think he might be the kid who basically moves into the dojang when given the chance.

I remember when Zephyr's friend Conor became obsessed with trains at an early age. His mother, Jessica, would explain that it didn't exactly occur in a vacuum; Conor's dad and granddad were train people, as well. Same for Zephyr and TKD. Zephyr certainly has his own enthusiasm, but Jon and I are only too eager to gear up for Saturday Night Sparring, give Zephyr tips on technique, and use Korean words around the house.

Yesterday there was a demonstration, black belt test, and kickathon. We thought we would just stay for Zephyr's part of the demo, but ended up sticking around for the entire duration. We were excited to see Master Frietze, who was the main Hapkido instructor when I was taking classes. There were three people testing for their TKD black belts, and their work was inspiring and impressive. Especially notable to me was the homeschooling mom of seven and one of her daughters, testing concurrently.

But what really moved me was the single Hapkido black belt candidate. She was strong, graceful, and sure. Watching her brought me back in time to my Hapkido days. It was an interesting time in my life- almost exactly the timespan between my marriages. Hapkido had an impact on my life which would be hard to overestimate. It was my social, physical, and intellectual outlet. Besides meeting Jon, I made several other friendships, which, although not necessarily lasting, were nonetheless important in their time. Until Hapkido, I had never thought of myself as coordinated or athletic. Sure, I had run a few marathons, but that's just one foot in front of the other, many times over. I learned hundreds of intricate techniques through Hapkido, and, thanks to my instructors and classmates, I learned them well. Throwing a large man to the floor, or performing the dance of sword form with flawless zen, certainly gives one a feeling of self-confident prowess. And the mental work of memorizing and cataloging all those sets of techniques appealed to my intellectual side.

I felt a certain longing, and decided that when Zephyr graduates to the next class, I'm going to join him. With a small degree of humility, I'll tie on my white-with-a-yellow-stripe belt, which is as far as I advanced in the month or two of TKD classes I took, maybe six years ago. I want to spar. Besides, Jon says that at 35 I qualify for the Seniors Division. Look out!

Jubi wants to know if there's a 2-year-old division!