An Ode to Charles

Well. Not an Ode really. I'm not so good at the poetry thing, despite what my mother says.

Charles is a pretty cool guy. He likes Conan a lot, and books, and swords, and karate, and even went to Japan once. Some day I'd like to go to Japan, too. Tonight, even though it's not quite my birthday, I got my first birthday present, from (guess who?) Charles. But thats not really why I'm writing this, because that would be really shallow.

Mostly I'm writing because the entire time I've known Charles he's been one of those people that I want to turn into one day. Much like Cliff. Maybe the phrase is 'be more like' though I really like the idea of getting reincarnated as either of them. They're both cool.

Charles can draw, a skill that, despite two art classes a year in High School I never got the hang of; to the point that my teacher did something like an intervention and gave me clay and broken wood instead, telling me that I simply was never going to be an artist with pens and pencils. Kevin, my best friend, can draw. We were in the same art classes, and the funny thing that I've only learned in the last year or so, is that Kevin can't picture a drawing, he can't imagine it from thin air. That I can do, it's the part where the drawing goes down my arm and comes out the pencil that goes all funny. And it's not for lack of trying. I drew on everything in High School. But Charles keeps telling me if I just buy some sketch books and fill them up every month and get a human anatomy book I'll get there; I admire how he doesn't doubt that. He's very sure if I just try, I'll be able to draw too, and whether or not that happens, it's his unflagging faith that inspires me when I pick up a pen.

Still. The funny thing with the arm translation is happening. But if Charles thinks I can do it, maybe I can.

The other thing that Charles makes me think about a lot is what I read, and what I have read. Not all of it is as high-brow as I wish it was, nor can I always steer myself out of the cheesy romance novel isle at the used book store. Charles is always reading cool books, which makes me wish I read lots of cool books too. Er. I mean, I do. Sometimes. Sometimes they're not all that cool, or only a little cool. For instance, I'm still madly in love with my Kokology* Book. It stays where I can regularly flip through it and discover 'secret truths' about myself. But on that same shelf is also a copy of 'The Blue Sword' by Robin McKinley (a fantasy adventure so far, that might turn into a romance in a few chapters), 'Pride and Prejudice' by Jane Austen, 'Slightly Tempted' by Mary Balogh (it's Regency. i can't help myself), 'Yotsuba Vol. 3' by Kiyohiko Azuma, 'Paradise Lost' by John Milton (no, seriously, i'm reading it. for fun. i'm even highlighting the stuff I like with crayon.), 'Conan of Cimmeria' by Robert E. Howard (the spine broke at 'The Frost Giant's Daughter'), and Tad Williams 'The War of the Flowers'. Sorry. That was probably too many books to list, but I'm acctually in different places in all of them, right now. Not to mention the book on Sociopaths I got from the library. And as many books as I'm in the middle of, I wish I read more. I wish I read like I did when I was little and Mom would leave me at the Library for three hours with an empty bookbag and she'd come back and I'd be carrying books out, backpack straining at the seams. I'd lay on there on the floor on a Saturday night after a trip to the Library with a sea of books spread around me wondering in what order to read them. I had insomnia as a kid, too, and I found that if I put a book in the space between my bed and the wall, next to the nightlight I could hang off the side of the bed and read all night. I was the kid getting the notes home about reading under the desk during lessons or missing the bus because I went back to the school library. So, basically, Charles is living my dream life. Somehow everything he reads is awesome, and he has (seemingly) all the time in the world to do it. Which is more than I can say for myself, with College eating all my time. Not that I regret that at all. But still, books, how I long for and miss you.

Thirdly, Charles is a ninja. Yes, really.

I used to take Karate, and I remember liking it no matter how many times I got socked in the face while sparring and my braces tore my lips and it was like some crazy bar fight in the wilderness. Or at least it looked like one, me bleeding from the mouth. Heh. Yes, Karate was awesome. Past tense, so you can tell I'm not taking it anymore. But you see, Charles is a ninja and he has a black belt and unlike me he really looks like he could kick your ass (also, i haven't the black belt). And he's always telling us crazy stories about almost shooting possums or throwing in that little bit of knowledge about how to properly kidnap someone that you know means he must have gone to the best Karate Dojo Ever. I did not go to the best karate dojo ever. I thought so most of the time, at least until one of the instructors punched me in the face when I was done with my kata. I was just standing there, and Ka-Pow, like in a old Batman episode. That was the beginning of the me-not-wanting-to-take-karate-anymore thing. Me not wanting to take karate came to a head the night that we all had to stay after to beat a white-belt who'd been unruly and walked out durring our teacher giving him a lecture. The other kids, the upper belts that I looked up to, were the first in. And the kid just stood there and took it, so the teacher told some more of us to gang up on him. And then more of us. The teacher told me to get in the fight, since a few of us were standing by the side still.

What I did was I went to the back of the dojo, got my bag of stuff, and walked out. And I never went back there again.

Obviously, this is not something that happens at dojos. Or isn't supposed to. But as much as I liked karate I never went back. I quit my lessons, with about two or three belt ranks to go on being a black belt. This close. A few months, and I'd have that sweet black belt and a trophy probably and get to do weapons training.

Charles makes me want to go back to karate lessons, just somewhere else. Somewhere far, far else.

Last time I got myself in a 'I need Karate NOW' situation, after three years of lessons, I froze. Total lock up, blue screen of death kind of froze. Not the sort of thing you're supposed to do when you get to the level of karate I got to, which might be another reason I didn't start lessons somewhere else, since then. Kinda silly, all those lessons, and you can't punch someone right in the throat when you need to. But, Charles is obviously good at what he does, with the punching and the kicking and the screaming, so he makes me want to go back to karate. Which isn't something I've thought about in a long time, so hurray for the military arts and Charles.

And, thats about it for tonight. Basically, Charles is cool, and reads things, and I want to be a lot like him when I grow up. Except for the part where I'm mostly grown up already. But maybe, just maybe, if I try hard enough, I can be more like him.

Thanks Charles, for being totally awesome!



*Kokology is basically a personality quiz, but one that you have to fill in with your imagination. It's kinda goofy, but kind of hairs-on-the-back-of-my-neck-are-standing-up-right-now dead on. They tell you something, then ask you to imagine something, and depending on what you imagine, they explain some (usually) deep rooted personality thing about you.