ANECDOTES

When I first began training in TCC (1986), I began hanging around with a fellow, who did Iron Palm, Praying Mantis, bone-hardening exercises (I kid you not: I saw this guy demonstrate this one day, pounding his shins and forearms against a good sized tree, pounding away at it with enough power to shake the bloody thing). Sparring with him was, well, out of the ordinary. My first training was in karate: so when I’d block his blows, it was like hitting my arms with an iron bar.
We began training together. I learned (the hard way!) not to counter force with force: it was painful. One night, he said to me: “Let me show you something.” (Note: this was after many months of hard-core training in TCC.) He launched a barrage of blows, which I simply tapped all aside.
“Hmmm,” he said. “Maybe you should stick to Tai Chi.”
About a year into our friendship, and impromptu training sessions (he worked at a vacuum-cleaner store), he was giving a primer for this young fellow who was going to train with his sifu. While the two of them were bouncing around, flipping over, doing whatever external stylists do, I simply practiced my TCC form 3 or 4 times. I’d started doing Tui Shou (Push hands) some months before.
After the 3 of us had finished, my friend made a remark: “At least we broke a sweat.” “What I love about Tai Chi,” I told them, “is that all it takes is a small push,” I stepped in, barely touched my friend, and off he sailed, into a group of vacuum-cleaners 3 yards away in a corner, sprawling. “Are you okay?” I asked, startled. “I’m fine,” he replied. All was cool. But I never heard that remark again.

I’m very, very careful now, not to push someone playfully. They tend to go sailing, or are propelled at least 3 or 4 yards away.

Years later, I was training with an instructor. Again: “Let me show you something.” Shower of blows. I deflected them all.

Somewhere within that timeframe, I was living in Livermore, and this lady I knew (semi-acquaintance) was visiting one of my roommates. She’d gained some weight, and I made one of my famous cracks. She immediately jumped up, and attempted to slap the crap out of me. I used Cloud Hands, tapping each one aside, laughing all the while. After a couple of minutes, she gave up in disgust.

Once, I was helping my mother’s boss move some furniture. They had a Tacoma truck, with one of those Leer shells. The shell door was up, I was bent over the tail, down came the door. Without even knowing what was happening, I simply moved my upper body horizontally away and up, the door missing me completely.

One night, walking down Amador Valley Parkway in Dublin, past the Jack in the Box, I began to move in a circular manner, thinking to myself, “What the hell…?” Once I completed the intricate pirouette, I looked down. Someone had torn a sprinkler pipe in the bushes from its mooring, and pulled it out so most folks would either trip on it, or bark their shins.

One night, at a friend’s house, I was talking to a married couple. The guy had been training in TKD. His wife was seated. He launched into an attack (kicks and punches? I think so). I stepped to one side, and touched him ever so slightly. The result? Hysterical. He sprawled all over his seated wife, who hollered at him about it as they tangled up.

Once, a gal I worked with at a mini-mart, saw me walk in, yelled my name, came at me in a straight line fists pumping (she was a large woman, and more than a little odd). I closed my eyes, shifted my weight into my back leg, turned ever so slightly, and moved her with my finger. When I opened my eyes, she was standing off to my right, deflected elsewhere, and facing away from me. “Wow, you must do karate or something!”

Once, a friend of mine with a drinking problem, got a little too rowdy. He wanted me to demonstrate push hands. I tried, he got way out of hand. Small guy, too. I must’ve bounced him off the wall a dozen times. His poor beleaguered mom kept picking up the pictures that were knocked onto the floor as I apologized profusely.

I sparred this one young fellow in Livermore. This cat, I kid you not, could leap up in the air, sailing horizontally, doing what’s called a Butterfly kick, his aerials were something to behold. We almost clinched; I sent him sprawling 4-5 yards away.

After about 5 years into TCC, I began to shop around a little. I went to a famous instructor in Berkeley. I didn’t tell anyone I’d ever done TCC. The first week, we did Tui Shou. Now, I’d been doing fixed-step push hands all this while: this teacher told us to step into the push. I was paired off with this one fellow, a few inches shorter than me, but far wider and more muscular. Each time I stepped into the push, he bounced off a wall. Got a lot of strange looks at that, you betcha. Some months later, I was asked (rather, told) that I’d had prior training, to which I agreed.

At the Berkeley kwoon, one night an apprentice and I were practicing, he kept trying to throw me, but my root was too strong: he actually YELLED at me to fall down. Another night, we were doing some Pa Kua exercises with the Tui Shou: my partner was a smaller fellow; he literally ROLLED across my right arm to my left. Got into it with this young chap one day, same place. Fella claimed he was a Hapkido Black Belt. We were doing an exercise that specifically called for a reactive response: instead, he kept trying this one technique, over and over again. I explained to him that’s not what we were supposed to do. He ignored me, kept doing it. I lost my temper (perhaps), or we got into it: next thing I know, we’re on the floor; I have the scissors hold (both my hands trapping one arm, both legs trapping the other) on him.

Couple of years ago, I was napping on the BART, on my way home from work. The person seated next to me barely brushed my duster jacket, and I snapped awake.