I will no longer be updating this blog. It will however be maintained for historical purposes. To keep up with my developing martial arts and creative projects, follow me on:
http://www.youtube.com/erniesbudolab
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http://www.blogtv.com/people/erniesbudolab
http://twitter.com/erniesbudolab
Sunday, February 21, 2010
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Childhood...mine too
This is a response to Nina’s “Childhood” post in her Notes Section
http://www.facebook.com/home.php#/pages/Ninjabeats/58828113180?v=app_2347471856&viewas=1439592220
First of all, Nina, thank you for sharing your childhood story. I’m sure most fans haven’t heard this side of you before. And this time around for me, I gained a deeper understanding into the strength and resolve you have built and continue to grow. What you went through didn’t make you weak. It made you invincible.
MY TURN:
My childhood was one of constantly being on the move. My father was in the Navy which meant that every two years, we –that is my entire family- moved to a new duty station. That meant different base housing; a different school and teacher; and a new town.
It meant having to start over again. Being a Filipino-American, at that time, was very difficult. People in the South-East were already very bigoted against Blacks. As Asian-Americans started filtering in, we were just as negatively received.
Much earlier in my childhood, I fell ill to chronic ear infections that went undiagnosed until it was too late. For the rest of my life, I will have a constant “ringing” in my ears. It’s a condition called tinitus. This is the same affliction that reportedly drove the famous painter Vincent Van Gough insane. If you want to torture me, put me in a silent room. To this day, I can not sleep without an electric fan on or something to create a drone to mask the noise in my head.
In retrospect, I believe the infections came from having rotten teeth while I lived in Iceland, something about the water. Oddly, I had two sets of “baby teeth” according to the X-rays. To save the second set, my dentist pulled all of my teeth out at age six. So today, I am rolling on my third set of natural teeth.
I was also born with the flattest feet ever and the military hospitals I went to were not exactly specialists in childhood podiatry. My mother bought the worst shoes for my condition. So, my feet were in constant pain. And when I started my big growth spurt at nine years old, I was diagnosed with Osteochondromatosis. I was growing so fast that the soft tissues in my knees were turning into bone. I was on crutches for three months. If I had been diagnosed with Osgood-Schlater Syndrome, the doctors would have put both of my legs into casts for a year. So, I count myself lucky for that.
By the time I was allowed to be off crutches, my growing slowed down. But, my right leg ended up being shorter than my left by almost half an inch. My knees are not in the same alignment, so even with a wedge in my right shoe, I still walk with a limp. This misalignment made my pelvis tilt to one side and caused me to develop scoliosis (a crooked spine). So, my childhood was filled with lots of physical pain.
Back to being on the move…OK, every two years I would have to say good-bye to my classmates and neighborhood friends. Well, I should really call them associates because at that age I shuffled from one group to another at the drop of a dime. I recall transferring to three different schools in the third grade. That was when my family moved from the East Coast to the West Coast. We thought we would settle in San Diego where my father took his basic training in the Navy and where he thought he would finish his career. We stayed there for awhile with relatives until my father received his final orders to report to Alameda in the San Francisco Bay Area.
Our housing assignment should have been in Alameda, but there were not any units available. We got stuck on Treasure Island smack dab in the middle of the San Francisco Bay. From my bedroom window, I had a multi-million dollar view of the San Francisco Waterfront. But for the two years I lived on that island, those were the loneliest years I’ve ever known. To me, it was prison…like Alcatraz just outside my window and to the right. During my time there, I left the island less than ten times for day trips.
It was tough because while we were quartered there, my father was mostly away at sea. As the oldest son in the family, I was in charge of doing all the heavy chores despite being in pain all the time. Most of the “kids” in the neighborhood were in their teens, so I did not have many playmates. There was an elementary school on base, but most of the students were bussed in from The City. At the end of the day, I would wander around this little island with no one to play with. There were other kids, but they were clique-ish and often chose me to play the “bad guy” and throw dried mud chunks and clay at me.
Being the sole Asian in a group of kids often meant being bullied a lot. I came home one day with a huge bump on my forehead. My mother asked me how it happened. I told her, “Bobby hit me with a baseball bat.” She did not believe me. Or, did not want to believe it. Result: Don’t go outside! It was around this time I started developing a crippling stutter. My thoughts ran so fast, my mouth could not keep up. The school I went to assigned a speech therapist to me to “get rid of that Filipino accent.” They honestly believed that my parents’ influence was holding me back and causing the stutter.
The closest friend I have is more a brother to me than my own blood brothers. We have known each other since the ages of fourteen. He was the only one who had the patience to endure my stuttering and listen to what I had to say among our peers. So, there is no big surprise that I do not have a huge number of friends. Since my mind moves faster than my mouth, I only talk when I really need to. In a group, I am usually the silent one. Not because I do not care, but because I do not want to lag the mood of conversation. Asian-polite, right? Even though I still stutter, my speech much improved after a public speaking class that I aced.
Despite the physical and speech impediments I have, I play guitar and sing. I practice and teach martial arts. I earned a Bachelor’s Degree in radio and television broadcasting. I am an influential YouTuber. Yet, I think I would trade most of this success and live a quieter life, if I could some how go back in time and persuade my high school/college friend to have married me. She was the only girl in school that not only talked to me, but actually wanted to know me. Her excuse for not choosing me was she could not trust another Filipino man after being abused and disappointed by previous ones. I lost touch with her long ago. She married a White guy and had three daughters.
http://minstrelwarrior.tumblr.com/post/129820682
Not until recently have I entertained the idea of re-opening my heart and looking for someone new. I have spent the last five years contemplating becoming a monk. But, I doubt I have the conviction and if I did would proceed for selfish reasons which is no reason, at all.
Right now, I am content with my life. I am not “suffering” although pain is something that can be controlled by pure thought alone. I am enjoying new creativity and new and deeper friendships near and far. And, I am happy that you asked us all to share our stories with you. I hope more join in…
Sorry if mine went on a bit…
Ernie
http://www.facebook.com/home.php#/pages/Ninjabeats/58828113180?v=app_2347471856&viewas=1439592220
First of all, Nina, thank you for sharing your childhood story. I’m sure most fans haven’t heard this side of you before. And this time around for me, I gained a deeper understanding into the strength and resolve you have built and continue to grow. What you went through didn’t make you weak. It made you invincible.
MY TURN:
My childhood was one of constantly being on the move. My father was in the Navy which meant that every two years, we –that is my entire family- moved to a new duty station. That meant different base housing; a different school and teacher; and a new town.
It meant having to start over again. Being a Filipino-American, at that time, was very difficult. People in the South-East were already very bigoted against Blacks. As Asian-Americans started filtering in, we were just as negatively received.
Much earlier in my childhood, I fell ill to chronic ear infections that went undiagnosed until it was too late. For the rest of my life, I will have a constant “ringing” in my ears. It’s a condition called tinitus. This is the same affliction that reportedly drove the famous painter Vincent Van Gough insane. If you want to torture me, put me in a silent room. To this day, I can not sleep without an electric fan on or something to create a drone to mask the noise in my head.
In retrospect, I believe the infections came from having rotten teeth while I lived in Iceland, something about the water. Oddly, I had two sets of “baby teeth” according to the X-rays. To save the second set, my dentist pulled all of my teeth out at age six. So today, I am rolling on my third set of natural teeth.
I was also born with the flattest feet ever and the military hospitals I went to were not exactly specialists in childhood podiatry. My mother bought the worst shoes for my condition. So, my feet were in constant pain. And when I started my big growth spurt at nine years old, I was diagnosed with Osteochondromatosis. I was growing so fast that the soft tissues in my knees were turning into bone. I was on crutches for three months. If I had been diagnosed with Osgood-Schlater Syndrome, the doctors would have put both of my legs into casts for a year. So, I count myself lucky for that.
By the time I was allowed to be off crutches, my growing slowed down. But, my right leg ended up being shorter than my left by almost half an inch. My knees are not in the same alignment, so even with a wedge in my right shoe, I still walk with a limp. This misalignment made my pelvis tilt to one side and caused me to develop scoliosis (a crooked spine). So, my childhood was filled with lots of physical pain.
Back to being on the move…OK, every two years I would have to say good-bye to my classmates and neighborhood friends. Well, I should really call them associates because at that age I shuffled from one group to another at the drop of a dime. I recall transferring to three different schools in the third grade. That was when my family moved from the East Coast to the West Coast. We thought we would settle in San Diego where my father took his basic training in the Navy and where he thought he would finish his career. We stayed there for awhile with relatives until my father received his final orders to report to Alameda in the San Francisco Bay Area.
Our housing assignment should have been in Alameda, but there were not any units available. We got stuck on Treasure Island smack dab in the middle of the San Francisco Bay. From my bedroom window, I had a multi-million dollar view of the San Francisco Waterfront. But for the two years I lived on that island, those were the loneliest years I’ve ever known. To me, it was prison…like Alcatraz just outside my window and to the right. During my time there, I left the island less than ten times for day trips.
It was tough because while we were quartered there, my father was mostly away at sea. As the oldest son in the family, I was in charge of doing all the heavy chores despite being in pain all the time. Most of the “kids” in the neighborhood were in their teens, so I did not have many playmates. There was an elementary school on base, but most of the students were bussed in from The City. At the end of the day, I would wander around this little island with no one to play with. There were other kids, but they were clique-ish and often chose me to play the “bad guy” and throw dried mud chunks and clay at me.
Being the sole Asian in a group of kids often meant being bullied a lot. I came home one day with a huge bump on my forehead. My mother asked me how it happened. I told her, “Bobby hit me with a baseball bat.” She did not believe me. Or, did not want to believe it. Result: Don’t go outside! It was around this time I started developing a crippling stutter. My thoughts ran so fast, my mouth could not keep up. The school I went to assigned a speech therapist to me to “get rid of that Filipino accent.” They honestly believed that my parents’ influence was holding me back and causing the stutter.
The closest friend I have is more a brother to me than my own blood brothers. We have known each other since the ages of fourteen. He was the only one who had the patience to endure my stuttering and listen to what I had to say among our peers. So, there is no big surprise that I do not have a huge number of friends. Since my mind moves faster than my mouth, I only talk when I really need to. In a group, I am usually the silent one. Not because I do not care, but because I do not want to lag the mood of conversation. Asian-polite, right? Even though I still stutter, my speech much improved after a public speaking class that I aced.
Despite the physical and speech impediments I have, I play guitar and sing. I practice and teach martial arts. I earned a Bachelor’s Degree in radio and television broadcasting. I am an influential YouTuber. Yet, I think I would trade most of this success and live a quieter life, if I could some how go back in time and persuade my high school/college friend to have married me. She was the only girl in school that not only talked to me, but actually wanted to know me. Her excuse for not choosing me was she could not trust another Filipino man after being abused and disappointed by previous ones. I lost touch with her long ago. She married a White guy and had three daughters.
http://minstrelwarrior.tumblr.com/post/129820682
Not until recently have I entertained the idea of re-opening my heart and looking for someone new. I have spent the last five years contemplating becoming a monk. But, I doubt I have the conviction and if I did would proceed for selfish reasons which is no reason, at all.
Right now, I am content with my life. I am not “suffering” although pain is something that can be controlled by pure thought alone. I am enjoying new creativity and new and deeper friendships near and far. And, I am happy that you asked us all to share our stories with you. I hope more join in…
Sorry if mine went on a bit…
Ernie
Sunday, June 14, 2009
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Budo Rant #3 - Give Credit & Improve on the Previous
I was compelled to defend my honor as the first person to ever post a tutorial video on the internet on the subject of Triple String Nunchaku. My original video has been viewed more than 30,000 times and has found permanent places on several search engines and martial arts forums world wide.
It's my firm belief, as martial artists, that when we borrow ideas or base our work on the accomplishments of others before us, we must give credit where credit is due. I've done so in the past, and I will always cite the research and findings of others whenever I produce training and educational material to be posted on the internet.
rctrue, never contacted me to inform me he was going to reproduce my tutorial virtually shot for shot and step for step.
Mcjoebuilder, on the otherhand, used my tutorial as a basis but went about his tutorial the way he saw fit. And as an added bonus, he makes his own nunchaku. Kudos Joe! [prior to posting this entry, Mcjoebuilder emailed me and informed me he was linking my tutorial to his. I did the same likewise.]
This is a comment placed by a DTG spy who was "expelled" by Greg Park so that he could freely roam YouTube and try to gain the confidence of the unsuspecting. I didn't buy his story for a minute. SACREDFIREDOJOSHOW is still an active member of Nintaijutsu.
In this screenshot, we can see the date of publication as well as number of views as of today. Notice, how many more views my video has over rctrue's. This number can only be achieved over a long period of time. Thus, my tutorial came first.
In this next image, MOUNTAINOUS gives praise...only because he is another member of Nintaijutsu - Choson Ninja, under Greg Park. The following two individuals are more critical. cava002 directly asks rctrue if he knows who I am. No response. The third person had an even more practical comment. Look back at my tutorial. I specifically chose to use my white oak nunchaku with green parachute cord because of the contrast in color! Easier for viewers to see what's happening.
Lastly, here's the champion of the day: Mcjoebuilder and his excellent interpretation of my original lesson.
Always remember this courtesy: Give credit where credit is due and improve on the previous.
Thanks goes to YouTubers: HouzanSuzuki, scottbaioisdead, zeong77, and Mcjoebuilder
Monday, March 2, 2009
Let Me Be Your interWeb DJ...
I studied radio and television broadcasting at SFSU. My interests were more focused on motion picture sound. Recently, I've been enjoying the music from my youth and have been publishing a playlist on BLIP.fm.
BLIP is like Twitter, but with music that's loaded on a database. If it's in the database, you can program it into your own "station" (webpage).
Scroll all the way to the bottom of this blog and you'll find that I have two BLIP stations. One for 80's music and the other is for 90's and up. Occasionally, I'll throw in songs from different eras, either as requests or homages to other blipsters.
You can create your own BLIP for free at:
BLIP.fm
BLIP is like Twitter, but with music that's loaded on a database. If it's in the database, you can program it into your own "station" (webpage).
Scroll all the way to the bottom of this blog and you'll find that I have two BLIP stations. One for 80's music and the other is for 90's and up. Occasionally, I'll throw in songs from different eras, either as requests or homages to other blipsters.
You can create your own BLIP for free at:
BLIP.fm
Sunday, March 1, 2009
Enter the Chickenchaku
This guy is actually an awesome guitarist. I'd love to check out his live show. He's quite the performance artist.
I'm glad I found this. It's time to start laughing again.
Here's a taste of his guitar work...
I'm glad I found this. It's time to start laughing again.
Here's a taste of his guitar work...
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