Contact Pants Conundrum
There is weather today, I do note it: take a few
moments to reckon the size of a cloud (big) and the frequency of rain
(sporadic.) Centre of my interest though is a stack of magazines. Not the
fashion kind. This is martial arts research. I'm not even sure what it is I'm
looking for, but intuition calls loud.
A range of old adverts skew some amusement. Contact
pants, for example. Pants are not trousers where I come from. They are
underwear. Professional contact pants: improved smirk value. But why would a
person be likely to purchase a grappling hook and a lock pick set? For specialists
and hobbyists only, the blurb assures. Guidance on the pheromone spray that
attracts women against their better judgement? I doubt it works any more
proficiently than the mysterious potion that defines your muscles while you
sleep. But, then: I wonder is some sprayed on this paper? What was my intuition
thinking, making this ghastly shout…
Tea break time.
There's a lot of words in this stack, I needn't be
distracted by sneaky machismo.
An interview with the late Jim Kelly is happily
chanced upon. He was a real dream follower: single-minded not close-minded, not
afraid to work hard or suffer judgment. Someone you can think of while you are
training/writing/earnestly in pursuit of a design.
When I put my combat pants on, that's what I seek:
honest bruises.
Comments
Big hooray for the real heros!