Sitting somewhere near Mt Sinai Medical School right now, in New York City. Competition has been a strange vehicle of redemption for me. Disney worked this way, and this weekend's competition in Jersey was similar. L's birthday was Thursday, and she wanted to bum around NYC in conjunction with a regional tournament in Jersey City. She has friends here, some still in school and some graduated, all with advanced degrees in brilliance.

The trip has not enamored me any more of cities—it is too loud and crowded, and while the cultural and architectural values surpass those of my local provenance, I need to be quiet and alone too often to live in a place like this. I hid in the bathroom two or three times on Friday to get away from the press of people who didn't seem to respect my personal space at all. The little sanctuaries that the city affords makes it feel more like an adventure, but I would rather be brought to a wide place.

Nonetheless, it has been good, and fun. The first two friends we met were married in St. Paul's Cathedral on the campus of Columbia, and so L and I went to visit it again. It is as I remember: immaculately-organized wooden chairs (no pews), vaulted ceilings, and the stained glass that shows Paul's defense on Mars' Hill. Verses inscribed on the walls, utter peace and quiet, and a warm place out of the chill.

It is as though every competition (so far, any way) has afforded me the opportunity to retrace steps I took years ago, reclaiming memories and time and experiences from what feels like another life. It is cathartic, and a blessing. And entirely unexpected. This was never a part of my thought process with L—it has providentially happened that her life took her to those same places in an utterly different context, and that in the process of our relationship, I have found a redemption for those places and times that I associate with failure.

The trip consisted mainly of wandering around the city—lunch with friends, getting some coffee (for the coffee cups, not the actual coffee, which was a mix of jet fuel and turpentine), walking through Central Park on our way to the Met, where I got some pictures of a Spanish exhibit and marveled at Japanese technology (they're running a special exhibit on Japanese arms, so we saw some restored weapons and armor that were simply stunning). We capped it off with dinner at The Fig and Olive, a surprisingly good meal (appetizers: tuna tartar for her, chicken samosas for me; main course: branzino for me, lamb skewers for her; dessert: a chocolate pot for her, and marzipone cookies for me).

The hotel was comfortable, and fit three of us in a room quite comfortably (two beds and a hide-away). I stayed with J and D, and L stayed with the managers and moms. We arrived in plenty of time for the tournament and helped move some of the trophies into the school where we competed.

It was mainly poorly organized and run with a certain lack of professionalism that embarrassed me. I had guests (L's parents and my relatives who live in NY), and it was disappointing that they didn't get to see a good experience. I also did not perform well (though they missed most of that, thankfully). I substituted part of another form in the middle of the one I was doing—and I had started very, very well. I finished the form after ad-libbing a rather awful transition. Needless to say, I didn't place.

In weapons it was a slightly different story. D placed 3d, and two fantastic Japanese stylists (it was a Japanese tournament) placed first and second. Their technique was dominating, and I told them so. They were very, very impressive. They had a 40-something guy that did a Kanku that gave me shivers.

I drew a bye in fighting for the first round—we had to draw numbers, and I drew last, so no illusions it was fixed. I took third, losing to the eventual first-place winner. He was a good fighter, but his show-boating was really annoying. D (another one) took second. I actually fought him a little better than D did, which was surprising; I gave up a guesstimated 40 pounds and six inches on him. I had him turned around a couple times and nearly scored on a sweet fading roundhouse kick.

My third came nearly at the cost of my future, as he definitely moved my cup around a little. He wasn't malicious, but nonetheless not my favorite experience. The reffing also seemed a little strange, as both of us heard the corners yell for a break—but evidently you only stop when the center calls stop. (What???)


So that was my experience (nutshell-style). The kids' was much better; we had another grand champion (what a stick in the eye! She won it as a Korean at a Japanese tournament doing a Japanese form), this one in forms. And she nearly won it in weapons, too. The guy she beat for forms beat her by half a point for weapons. It was a thrilling experience. We had five people competing for grand champion from our kids' division, so it was definitely a good showing for us.

As a result of the really strange (read: poor) way that they conducted the scheduling, I had very, very few opportunities to actually get out and walk around. I was extremely disappointed with the way that it was run. I was unable to fill any of my roles very well (something that Disney did such a good job at!). After I get back, I'll be able to give a fuller account of how things went. But I think our kids acquitted themselves in a hostile environment very well.


After the tournament, it was dinner with family and then to Mt Sinai, where one of L's friends goes to med school. We took some pictures off the top of the building, which will follow later (as I'm without Internet access and this is being drafted on my netbook). It was a nice view.

Then it was to bed, where I slept like the dead. Having lately risen, it's time to get moving (shower, then church, then food, then hopefully Secaucus and home).