Her Beautiful Mind

I met her on the psychiatric unit.  I don't remember the year anymore because I've been there so many times I think my memories have gotten blurred together.  One of my first memories of her is seeing her tell one of the psychiatrists that he was an idiot and didn't know what he was talking about.  The psychiatrist with the southern drawl and haughty demeanor seemed displeased with being ridiculed in front of the entourage of medical students with him.  

Sophie was manic.  And, a mathematician.  A manic mathematician.  She had a degree in mathematics and had coauthored at least one paper published in a professional journal. 

Yet, there she was on a psychiatric unit with the rest of us. 

She had blond wavy hair and a curvaceous body.  She was fond of wearing a pink half slip as an outer garment like a skirt instead of as an undergarment as it was intended to be worn.  

She didn't pay much attention to me in the day room at first.  Maybe she was wary of talking to me for some reason.  We didn't have any groups together because she was on the Mood Disorders Track and I was on the Eating Disorder Track.  But, eventually we exchanged a few words.  We spoke about Haldol.  I'd been strongly urged to try it and some other antipsychotic medications as well but didn't want to take it any longer because it made me feel like hell.  She comforted me and said she knew what I meant.  She'd been injected with Haldol on several occasions against her will.  

She mentioned something she called Haldol hazes.  I think she was familiar with being surrounded by members of a Code Green response team.  I think she was familiar with being put in four-point restraints and injected with drugs.  I think she was familiar with the QR (Quiet Room).  At least she had her mathematics to keep her mind occupied when strapped down to a table.  

Sometimes Sophie would talk about mathematics and physics concepts I knew nothing about.  

For example she might mention:

Axiom of choice

Bijective function

Binary code 

The electromagnetic spectrum 

Fundamental theorem of calculus 

Isomorphism 

Integral

Integers 

Jordan canonical form

Not gates

NP-completeness

Sines and cosines 

Spin matrices 

The space-time continuum 

Twin prime conjecture 

Venn diagrams 

She might mention the periodic table of elements.  She might mention Blaise Pascal or Kurt Gödel.  If I'd tried to endear myself to her by talking about the Pythagorean theorem, monomials, binomials, parabolas, and quadratic equations would she have just laughed at me?  "Those are mere child's play," she would have said.   

She was brilliant.  She should have been working at NASA.  She should have been an astronaut.  But, she didn't need a rocket or a shuttle to travel anyway.  She liked the idea of her spirit or psyche taking the form of radio waves and traveling wherever she pleased.  I guess she liked the notion of her essence needing no corporeal body in order to travel.

She had her own room on the unit while I was there.  They wanted to keep a close watch on her.  She got into trouble for writing on her wall.  It would be cool to tell you she was writing equations and proofs on the wall in an attempt to unravel the mysteries of the universe.  And she may have been.  I really don't remember any more.  Perhaps she wrote some poetry or drew some pictures on the wall.  I just remember the wall being covered in pencil or ink.  Perhaps it was just a bunch of scribbling.  Maybe she was bored and angry and defiling her wall was simply a big "fuck you" to the powers that be.  Either no one was watching her when it happened or they didn't think it warranted a potent response. 

I like to imagine her wall being covered in equations and her declaring, "I've solved the twin prime conjecture!" 

The hospital wasn't the only place she'd been forced to do things against her will.  Out in the real world things had been just as bad.  She'd been physically abused and sexually assaulted.  She'd been mistreated by others and had her heart broken. 

But, I guess she trusted me.

Eventually Sophie developed a crush on me.  She wrote me notes and drew pictures for me.  She asked me to write her a note.  I didn't really want to but finally acquiesced. 

I wrote something like:

Sophie,

Maybe one day I will be as cool and interesting as you.

She responded by writing:

You already are cool and interesting my beautiful sweet boy!

Then one day she asked me to wear a ring.  It was a plastic ring like one might get from a gumball machine.  She wanted me to wear it to signify I was her fiancé.  She wanted us to be engaged while we were on the unit.  

I didn't really want to wear the ring but she pleaded with me, "Please, just while we're on the unit."

One morning I was sitting in front of the nurses station with my breakfast which had long since went cold.  I was feeling like hell and couldn't eat it.

"What's going on?" asked Sophie.  

"If you don't eat your meal in a certain amount of time they make you sit with it.  Those are the rules for eating disorder patients," I said.

"Oh, I'm sorry babe.  That doesn't seem fair," she said.

My therapist noticed Sophie taking an interest in me and asked me about her. 

"Oh, it's no big deal.  She's just got the hots for me," I said.

"Well you need to get yourself pulled together, kiddo, so you can get out of here and back into the real world.  Then you can get the hots for someone," advised my therapist.  Even though I was a grown man she still called me kiddo sometimes.

One afternoon my parents paid me a visit on the unit.  We sat in the empty dining room of the unit at a table and talked.  Sophie noticed us talking in there and cautiously walked in and joined us.  

"Are these your parents?" she asked.

"Yes," I replied.  

I introduced Sophie and my parents to one another.  I think Sophie asked my mom to look at one of her eyes because she claimed there was something unique about it.  My mom smiled and took a look.  

I guess Sophie wanted to meet the parents of her fiancé.

* * * 

A few years earlier I'd been a patient on that same unit.  On Friday evenings we often watched a movie.  The usual Friday afternoon activity was visiting the Patients' Library which housed books, music, and movies.  Usually some of the patients would pick out some DVDs so we'd have a movie to watch that evening.  We didn't have any therapy groups on Friday evening and it seemed natural to kick off our weekend with a movie.  One of the nursing assistants would even make popcorn.  Every eating disorder patient was allowed to have popcorn on Friday night.  It's not very pleasant being locked on a psychiatric unit so doing something kind of normal like relaxing and watching a movie was nice.

One Friday evening not long after my arrival on the unit we watched the film A Beautiful Mind based on the life of mathematician John Nash, a genius who also suffered from paranoid schizophrenia. 

In the film Nash believes he is working on a classified assignment for the U.S. government to look for hidden patterns in magazines and newspapers to thwart a Soviet plot.  It turns out the mysterious agent who recruited Nash only existed in his imagination.  

After Nash is committed to a psychiatric facility his wife visits his office at MIT. The walls of the office are covered with magazine and newspaper clippings connected by strings.  I was as shocked and horrified as his wife.  Nash's troubled mind was seeing patterns where none existed. 

I sat in my chair in the day room of the psychiatric unit watching the screen as Nash is forced to undergo insulin shock therapy.  It was unsettling.  It was strange watching this film about a schizophrenic man while I was literally locked on a psychiatric unit.  I was freaked out.  

I suppose the film had a bit of a happy ending.  John learned to accept and live with his mental illness.  He eventually returned to teaching and in 1994 received a Nobel Prize for his revolutionary work. 

* * * 

I don't recall if I thought of John Nash and his office when I saw what Sophie had done to the wall of her hospital room.  I think Sophie got caught up in patterns sometimes like Nash.  I believe she was captivated by the mathematical notion of mapping.

In many branches of mathematics, the term map is used to mean a function.

A mapping is a function that is represented by two sets of objects with arrows drawn between them to show the relationships between the objects.

In all mappings, the oval on the left holds values for the domain , and the oval on the right holds values for the codomain. 

Did mundane things in her universe take on special meaning?  Why did she get carried away with mappings? 

But, she was interested in more than just mathematics.  She could also talk about sex, drugs, music, and literature.  She mentioned drugs like China White, DMT, MDMA, and LSD.  I think she'd tried LSD once but was merely interested in the other drugs.  

Did she want to use drugs to numb her emotional pain?  Or, perhaps she wanted to experience states of consciousness beyond her day-to-day normal experience.  Perhaps she believed that certain drugs could help her to become a self-actualized person.  On the other hand, maybe she was simply seeking to find pleasure like most other human beings. 

She also seemed spiritual which surprised me.  I think I expected a mathematician to be very rational and to want proof for everything. 
I expected her to say, "I don't believe in anything I can't prove." 

I expected her to be an atheist.  And yet, I think she considered a higher power like God to be possible.  I think Jesus and the holy trinity interested her.  She was interested in the concept of chakras and especially the so-called crown chakra.  

Maybe I shouldn't have been surprised.  Even the mathematical genius Ramanujan said, "An equation for me has no meaning unless it expresses a thought of God."  It seems that Ramanujan may have believed he was merely a conduit to a higher power. 

Moby-Dick was her favorite book.  I'm not sure why.  Interestingly, some have argued that Moby-Dick is a work awash in mathematical metaphors.  Herman Melville, the author, touches upon the so-called tautochrone problem in a passage in the novel. 

The tautochrone is a curve such that a ball rolling down the curve takes the same amount of time to reach the bottom, no matter where along the curve it starts. (The name comes from the Greek tauto for same and chrono for time.)  It doesn’t sound like such a curve should be possible because balls starting further up the curve have longer to travel.  However, balls starting higher also have more potential energy, and so they travel further but faster. 

From the novel:

The try-works are planted between the foremast and mainmast, the most roomy part of the deck. The timbers beneath are of a peculiar strength, fitted to sustain the weight of an almost solid mass of brick and mortar, some ten feet by eight square, and five in height. The foundation does not penetrate the deck, but the masonry is firmly secured to the surface by ponderous knees of iron bracing it on all sides, and screwing it down to the timbers. On the flanks it is cased with wood, and at top completely covered by a large, sloping, battened hatchway. Removing this hatch we expose the great try-pots, two in number, and each of several barrels’ capacity. When not in use, they are kept remarkably clean. Sometimes they are polished with soapstone and sand, till they shine within like silver punchbowls. During the night-watches some cynical old sailors will crawl into them and coil themselves away there for a nap. While employed in polishing them—one man in each pot, side by side—many confidential communications are carried on, over the iron lips. It is a place also for profound mathematical meditation. It was in the left hand try-pot of the Pequod, with the soapstone diligently circling round me, that I was first indirectly struck by the remarkable fact, that in geometry all bodies gliding along the cycloid, my soapstone for example, will descend from any point in precisely the same time.

I have no idea whether or not Sophie knew about mathematical allusions in Moby-Dick.  Perhaps she simply thought a novel about a big white whale was cool. 

I don't recall if we had a chance to say goodbye when I was discharged.  I think she gave me some drawings to take with me.  She kept the gumball machine ring.  I guess I was going to be a free man again in more ways than one.  After I was discharged I lived in a care facility for a while and attended a day treatment program in something called the Partial Hospitalization Program (PHP).  The patients simply called it partial. 

Not too long after my arrival in partial Sophie showed up one day.  She too had been discharged.  She walked into the small dining room on the unit and sat across from me.  She seemed very calm which kind of concerned me.  What had they done to the feisty girl I'd met on the unit?  Had they finally broken her spirit?  Was she drugged up?  I was worried about her and yet she didn't seem sedated and genuinely seemed serene.  

She was wearing a simple but nice outfit.  She was wearing a backpack and carrying a lunch bag.  She looked like an innocent school girl ready to go off to school.  

We didn't see much of one another because, of course, I had to spend my time with the other eating disorder patients.  While attending partial and for a while after being discharged I was living in a care facility (i.e. an institution).  Eventually I returned to my apartment.

A few years later I think I may have seen Sophie on a city bus a couple of times.  Her hair was shorter and darker and she may have been thinner but I'm sure it was her.  I don't know if she recognized me or not.  She never made eye contact with me and I didn't want to bother her so I never attempted to talk to her.  

I'm not sure where Sophie is now.  Perhaps she has perfected time travel.  Or, perhaps she has perfected astral projection allowing her spirit to leave her physical body when she pleases so her consciousness can travel throughout the universe.  Or, perhaps she's even evolved into an energy being like from a sci-fi movie and dispensed with the need to have a body altogether. Maybe she has visited other universes and other dimensions.  

Maybe she discovered a way to download her consciousness to the internet.  She has achieved the so-called singularity.  Human and machine have become one.  Her consciousness can travel the world on fiber-optic cables.  Her consciousness could possibly be uploaded and saved in digital form, loaded onto a spaceship,  and then downloaded or "resurrected" when the spaceship lands on a another planet.  

I don't really like the idea of Sophie being transported in digital form only to be resurrected and placed in some sort of artificial body in some galaxy far away.  However, we could still possibly communicate even over vast distances.  Sophie mentioned a piece of sci-fi technology called the Ansible that allows spaceships and human colonies that are lightyears apart to communicate instantaneously, thus allowing intergalactic culture and government to exist.  Scientists might actually be able to create such technology one day.  We may have an intergalactic internet someday. 

Then again Sophie might be leading a mundane but satisfying life as a math teacher and a mother.  

Maybe she likes the TV show Numbers.  The series follows FBI Special Agent Don Eppes and his brother Charlie Eppes, a college mathematics professor and prodigy, who helps Don solve crimes for the FBI.

Maybe she likes the TV show The Big Bang Theory, a sitcom that follows the lives of geeky physicists, astrophysicists, aerospace engineers, neuroscientists, and microbiologists.  

Maybe she even likes to celebrate National Pi Day.  Pi Day is an annual celebration of the mathematical constant π.  Pi is the ratio of the circumference of any circle to the diameter of that circle. Regardless of the circle's size, this ratio will always equal pi.  Pi Day is observed on March 14 since 3, 1, and 4 are the first three significant digits of π.  In decimal form, the value of pi is approximately 3.14.  Some people like to observe Pi Day by eating pie. 

* * *

I have thought a lot about time travel and parallel universes myself.  The multiverse theory states that there are an infinite number of universes coexisting with ours on parallel dimensional planes.  In each of these alternate universes  the reality is different from our own, sometimes only slightly and sometimes quite radically.  The point is every possible eventuality exists.  

Maybe in other universes I made different decisions.  Maybe an alternate universe exists where I am healthy and happy.  Perhaps I'm even rich and famous.  Can I contact and learn from these other duplicate versions of myself?  Can I travel through time somehow and live a different life in a universe just like this one but where I am healthy and happy?  A universe where I am a better son, brother, lover, employee, and citizen?

But, I know I'll just have to do my best and be grateful for the life I have in this universe.  And, I suppose that's all Sophie can do as well.  We can't square a circle, right Sophie?  We can't do the impossible.  Thank God Sophie was there to support me and inspire me at a time when I wasn't sure I would survive.  

I recall that she found the song "99 Red Balloons" ("99 Luftballons") interesting.  I think she mainly got carried away thinking about the number 99 and what it might represent more so than being interested in the lyrics.  Nonetheless, I heard the English-language version recently and thought of her especially when I heard the last verse.  Balloons can be fragile.  And yet, balloons can be surprisingly strong even when buffeted by strong winds and can float away to a better place. 

Ninety-nine dreams I have had
In every one a red balloon
It’s all over and I’m standing pretty
In this dust that was a city
If I could find a souvenir
Just to prove the world was here
And here is a red balloon
I think of you, and let it go

Wherever Sophie is and whatever she is doing now, I hope she no longer finds herself sleeping or screaming under Haldol hazes.  I hope the days of abuse and assault are over.  I hope she found true love.  Perhaps she's found a way to make order out of chaos in her beautiful mind. 

Things Wrestlers Carry

A wrestler needs certain things whether he's going to a competition or merely to practice.  The items carried will vary from wrestler to wrestler.  I shall describe a few. 

To wit:

A Lucky Charm 

Former Iowa Hawkeye wrestler Ray Brinzer was given a Gumby doll as a Christmas gift in sixth grade.  

As a youngster Brinzer wrestled in a tournament almost every weekend, and would bring Gumby in his equipment bag.  Brinzer noticed the empty seat in the corner of the mat that was designated for his coach to sit in.  He had no coach - but he had Gumby.

Before one match, Brinzer perched his doll in the chair.

"I was just amazed at the reaction I got," Brinzer said.  "Everybody went crazy.  I started doing it all the time."

I didn't have any lucky charms that I can recall.  Not even a lucky pair of socks.  However, I usually followed the same routine on competition day.  For instance, after weighing in I almost always ate breakfast at the same restaurant.  

Letter Jacket with Several Medals

I lettered in wrestling my freshman year so I already had a letter jacket when I was a sophomore.  Whenever I placed in a tournament and got another medal I would have my mother sew the letter on my jacket.  By the time I was a senior the weight of the medals made my jacket hang a bit lopsided.  And, I clanked when I walked.  I know I probably looked like an idiot.  But, wrestling was about the only thing I had going for me so I wanted to let the world know I was somebody. 

Don't be like me.  Just be humble and let your performance do the talking.  If you really want to look like a badass wear a leather jacket and some Doc Martens boots.

Gym Bag or Backpack 

Every wrestler needs a quality gym bag.  Call it a duffle bag, sports bag, or wrestling bag.  If it has different compartments so much the better.  If there's a compartment to put your damp towel in after showering that's a big plus.  My older sister gave me a great gym bag as a gift one year and it served me well through my high school years. 

Essentials

Every male wrestler needs, first and foremost, a jockstrap. If a wrestler neglects to wear this piece of protective gear he may get his balls racked. Our junior high coach said no one wanted to see our manhood spread all over the mat. 

And, of course, shoes made specifically for wrestling are a must as well. 

Wrestling shoes have great traction and grip.  You can climb the walls like Spiderman.  No, seriously. 

Wrestling shoes are made to assist the feet and ankles by providing further stabilization and support. This, in turn, keeps your feet from slipping on the slick, sweaty mat. Additionally, wrestling shoes are built with support higher up the ankle area than other shoes, to keep the ankles from rolling or spraining with quick, jerky movements. 

The amount of traction that is typically required through the course of a dynamic wrestling match can be considerable. Quality wrestling shoes work against the mat to provide and promote stability to the wrestler from all directions. 

My first pair of wrestling shoes were a pair of Onitsuka Tigers.  Onitsuka Tiger is one of the sports shoe brands of ASICS. 

Dan Gable, John Smith, and other noteworthy wrestlers have had partnerships with wrestling shoe brands.  Gable partnered with ASICS and Smith with BRUTE.  During my final three seasons of high school wrestling I wore a white pair of Dan Gable Super Flex wrestling shoes by ASICS.

My hoity-toity college girlfriend would no doubt have told me that my white wrestling shoes didn't match my black singlet had she ever seen any of my wrestling pictures.

Most of the wrestlers on my team wore ASICS wrestling shoes.  I thin one or two other guys had a pair of Super Flex shoes like mine.  However, at least one guy had a pair of Dan Gable Ultra Flex shoes.  That pair of shoes was red with the ASICS stripes being in silver.  Very cool looking shoe and worked well since our school colors were black and red. 

Only one of my teammates had a pair of BRUTE wrestling shoes as I recall.  They were our school color of red though and they made him unique.

Wear some good quality socks with your shoes. 

Wrestlers usually have a headgear to protect their ears as well.  You may be required to wear a mouth guard in competition.  Wrestlers sometimes wear knee pads as well. 

A t-shirt and a pair of shorts work fine for wrestling practice.  An old school pair of sweats work fine as well.  On the other hand, so-called rash guards and compression garments have become popular in grappling sports. 

Plastic Suits

Regretfully wrestlers have used, and in some cases continue to use, so-called sauna suits.  These suits retain your body heat and perspiration when you work out while wearing it.  This attempt to sweat off weight can be extremely dangerous.  These suits may be made of nylon, vinyl, neoprene, or PVC.  I often carried what I believe was a red nylon top and bottoms with elastic cuffs.  

I had a teammate who sometimes wore a silver sauna suit making him look like an astronaut or a spaceman from an old sci-fi movie.

These types of suits have now been banned in high school and college wrestling because dramatic weight loss from dehydration is extremely dangerous.  And, you don't really need to look like you're ready for interstellar travel when you enter  the wrestling room for practice. 

Uniform 

Most wrestlers wear a one-piece uniform called a singlet.  Please don't call it a "onesie."  I competed in high school wearing a black singlet with red trim. Wrestlers of the past wrestled bare-chested clad only in tight-fitting trunks over full-length tights.  Eventually wrestlers wore trunks, tights, and shirts.  Finally, the wrestling singlet became the uniform of choice.  Some wrestling teams wore their singlets over tights.  I never had to wear tights.  I only wore a singlet while competing.  However, even when I was competing in the 1980s it wasn't uncommon to have an opponent wearing tights under his singlet. 

In the 1985 movie The Breakfast Club one male teenager pokes fun at a wrestler as they sit with a few other teens in the school library for detention. 

Andrew: Look, you guys keep up your talking and Vernon's going to come right in here. I got a meet this Saturday and I'm not going to miss it on account of you boneheads. 
Bender: Oh, and wouldn't that be a bite, huh? Missing a whole wrestling meet! 
Andrew: Well, you wouldn't know anything about it! You never competed in your whole life! 
Bender: Oh, I know. I feel all empty inside because of it. I have such a deep admiration for guys that roll around on the floor with other guys. 
Andrew: Ah, you'd never make it. You don't have any goals. 
Bender: Oh, but I do! 
Andrew: Yeah? 
Bender: I want to be just like you. I figure all I need's a lobotomy and some tights! 
Brian: You wear tights? 
Andrew: No, I don't wear tights. I wear the required uniform. 
Brian: Tights. 
Andrew: Shut up!

Some people in the wrestling community would like to see the adoption of two-piece uniforms because they think singlets are too revealing and may deter some individuals from entering the sport.  

Warm-up Suit or Robe 

The wrestlers at Iowa State University used to wear robes instead of the usual warm-up suit.  Legendary coach Harold Nichols coached at Iowa State from 1954-1985 and led the Cyclones to six NCAA Championships.  He introduced the wrestling robe to Iowa State.
    

Nowadays, most college wrestlers wear warm-ups or sweat suits before and after

matches.  That has not always been the case.  In the early 1900s, wrestlers at a number of schools wore sweaters while on the sidelines.  As for robes, that tradition of wrapping wrestlers in robes goes back decades at a number of colleges and high schools in the past, roughly from the 1930s into the 1960s and early 70s when they were largely replaced by warm-ups. 

Former ISU wrestler Jim Gibbons said, "The robes were not really functional but they were really cool after the match."

By looking through some old yearbooks I found that my high school's wrestling team wore robes over their uniforms in the past.  But, the robes had been replaced by two-piece warm-up suits by the time I was on the high school wrestling team.  

Our school colors were black and red.  I had a red warm-up suit for my first two years of high school and a black one for my remaining two years.  The warm-ups had a zippered jacket and matching pants.  The warm-up suits basically looked like a so-called track suit and were probably made of polyester.  Having a warm-up suit covering my singlet was a nice way to stay warm and comfortable until I was ready to step onto the mat for competition. 

Personal Hygiene Items

I had a few items in my athletic locker including shampoo, deodorant, and a bottle of Brut cologne.  I probably should have kept some lip balm around too.  I don't recall ever having styling mousse or hair gel in my locker.  Some wrestlers carry nail clippers, a razor, and a pair of scissors just in case the referee says anything is too long. 

Towel

A wrestler needs to shower after practice or competition.  You'll need a high quality towel to dry off with after your shower.  You can use a plain looking towel. But, what if your towel is something cool like a leopard print?  I'm not saying you'll be more refreshed and recover faster and wrestle even better in the next match. But, I'm not saying you won't either. 

Snacks

Sometimes I would bring a jelly sandwich or a package of Pop-Tarts with me to a tournament in case I needed a little pick-me-up between matches.  Sometimes I had some orange juice or soda with me to drink right after weigh-in.  I probably should have carried chewing gum with me because I remember getting gum from a teammate a couple of times. 

Water Bottle  

When I was competing back in the 1980s no one carried a personal water bottle with them.  Oh my God!  I might get dehydrated!  If you were thirsty you just got a drink from a water fountain.  We did, however, have some sort of team water bottle that was mainly used at competitions.  The water bottle was made of plastic and held about a quart I think.  It had a curved straw of some sort  that came out of the top so you could squeeze the bottle to get some water without actually putting your mouth on it.  

When I was a freshman wrestling on the varsity team, one of the seniors competing had a contact lens fall out.  He found the lens and instead of putting it back in his eye he walked to the edge of the mat and handed it to a teammate sitting next to me.  The teammate was concerned about not letting the lens dry out so he squirted some water on it from the team water bottle.  

But, now wrestlers have an array of water bottles to choose from which is nice.

Jump Rope

As I recall our team always had a jump rope in the training bag we had with us at competitions.  Sometimes I used this jump rope after a match if I was concerned about making weight again in the near future.  On one occasion I was over my competition weight at a tournament so I bundled up in a few layers of clothing and started jumping rope.  Sometimes I merely used the jump rope at tournaments to warm up before a match.  

When I was a sophomore in college I was hanging out with a buddy in his dorm room one day and in walked  a pretty girl.  She looked at me and said, "I know you.  You're a wrestler, right?"

"Yes," I answered feeling kind of happy that I was famous.

"I was a cheerleader at Jesup High School," she continued.  "I remember you from the Starmont Tournament.  I was walking behind you and accidently got caught in your jump rope.  It was kind of embarrassing."  

I vaguely remembered the incident.  It sounded kind of familiar.  I remember Jesup having a team at that particular tournament each year.  And, I seem to recall some cheerleaders from Jesup trying to flirt with me at that tournament during my sophomore year.  But, I was all business that day and ignored them.  I had a tournament to win and wasn't too interested in the cheerleaders.  What the hell was I thinking?  A beautiful girl got caught in my jump rope giving me a perfect opportunity to tease her and chat her up and I just ignored her.  Again, what the hell was I thinking? 

Notepad and Pen 

You never know when you might meet a cute cheerleader and want to take her phone number down.  We didn't have cell phones when I was a teenager.  I could have used the notepad and paper to write down the number of the cheerleader who got caught in my jump rope.  Or, perhaps I could have taken down her address and wrote her a sweet letter.   

Some studs don't need paper and pen though.  Here's a short anecdote.  My teammate Randy went out of bounds during a match one evening and happened to land by the opposing team's cheerleaders.  Before returning to the center of the mat he quickly said "hello" to one of the cheerleaders and asked for her phone number.  She laughed and quickly reeled off her phone number.  He put it in his memory bank, returned to the mat, and won his match.  However, Randy was given a warning for his failure to return promptly to the center of the mat and the referee said, "Listen Romeo, the next time you pull a stunt like that it's costing you a penalty point."

Did Randy remember the cheerleader's phone number?  Yes, of course.  In fact, he called her the next evening and arranged a date.  

This story is totally apocryphal of course.  

Music 

Music can be relaxing or invigorating.  Some relaxing music may help ease your pre-match anxiety.  On the other hand, some exhilarating music may give you the strength and motivation to run onto the mat and rip your opponent's arms off. 

Whether you need relaxation or motivation, you may want to bring some music and a pair of headphones with you to competitions.  

At a youth wrestling tournament in my younger days I remember one of the wrestlers having a boombox (i.e. portable stereo) with him.  I distinctly recall him playing "Centerfold" by J Giles Band.  I just thought you should know.  Ha!

I was at a tournament during my high school years and there happened to be a stereo on a cart of some sort sitting on the edge of the gymnasium.  There was a break in the action before the championship bouts began and someone put a cassette into the stereo.  The next thing I knew I was hearing the familiar riff to an AC/DC song playing.  I couldn't believe it.  AC/DC was a favorite of mine and the songs being played right then in the gymnasium were quite motivating.  With my strength and confidence galvanized from the music I won my final match in dominating fashion.  Well, that's how I remember it.  Ha!  

The Favor of a Young Lady 

For a classic gift of love, a medieval lady could bestow a favor on a knight on the tournament circuit, usually one of her detachable sleeves, a handkerchief, a ribbon, or a scarf. Something fluttery and easily tied would make a good public declaration; something foldable and small could be tucked away in the knight’s armor as a private symbol of devotion. 

I once had a young lady give me a a ribbon from her hair just before my championship bout at a wrestling a tournament where I was competing.  She said, "Win the championship for me." 

Okay, that never actually happened but it would have been wonderful if it had. 

The closest thing I ever received to a lady's favor was when my girlfriend left a letter for me in a locker at her high school.  You see we attended different high schools and she knew what locker room the visiting team would be using.  So, she told me which locker to open to find the note she'd left.  I found the locker and discreetly opened it to find the letter she'd left wishing me luck and telling me she loved me.  

Medal and Bracket Sheet 

If a wrestler does well at a tournament he'll bring home a couple of items that he didn't have with him at the beginning of the day.  The champion at a wrestling tournament gets a gold medal and the bracket sheet.  A tournament bracket is simply a diagram of who wrestles who.  If you win the tournament then your name will be on the line that reads winner or champion.  And, the bracket will show the names of everyone who wrestled at your weight that day and by what margin you won each match.  So, when you win a tournament you have a visual record of how much of a badass you are.  I think I cherished the bracket sheet as much as I did the gold medal.  Yes, it was just a sheet of poster board with my weight class's bracket printed on it.  But, my name was written on the line that read champion and that always made me really happy. 

Kilt 

The wrestlers from Edinboro University of Pennsylvania are the only wrestlers I've seen wear kilts aside from professional wrestler Rowdy Roddy Piper.  I believe the Fighting Scots wrestling team wore kilts in some posters as a fund-raiser and for publicity.

Kilts are not for sissies mind you.  The kilt is a manly garb.  

Intangibles

Every wrestler carries an array of tangible items with him.  But, what about the intangibles? 

Every wrestler carries his vast wrestling knowledge of skills, techniques, strategy and tactics, and his arsenal of wrestling moves.  All of this knowledge is wedged in his brain somewhere between thoughts of pretty girls, fast cars, and action movies. 

A wrestler carries dedication, determination, and desire.  Yes, a wrestler carries many intangible things with him.

And, honestly, other than the jockstrap protecting one’s privates, the intangibles are really the most important thing.  

I realize I have been exclusively using the pronoun him even though female wrestlers are quite commonplace in this day and age.  I’m not really sure what females wear as far as protective clothing goes.  And, I imagine females have some different hygiene products in their duffle bags.  But whether a male or female, every wrestler hopefully carries with them the love and support of their families, friends, and community.  

Karaoke and Air Bands

I believe the first time I heard the word karaoke was while watching a Doogie Howser, M.D. episode.  An orderly named Raymond mentions to Doogie that he and some other staff members had gone to a karaoke bar the evening before after working the late shift.  Doogie, being a precocious young man, informs Raymond he is pronouncing karaoke incorrectly and tells him karaoke means "empty voice" in Japanese. 

I think the first time I ever saw people perform karaoke was during my first hospitalization for anorexia nervosa.  The activities therapy staff thought an afternoon of karaoke in the hospital gymnasium would be fun for all of the patients on the psychiatric units including the eating disorder patients.  I remember one young man doing a splendid rendition of "After the Lovin'" made famous by Engelbert Humperdinck.  I think I joined some other patients in singing "Bust a Move" made famous by Young MC.  But, the tempo was too fast and the rapping lyrics too tricky for us to keep up with so we gave a pitiful performance. 

During another hospitalization years later I would encounter karaoke again.  I refused to get up and sing and resigned myself to simply watching other patients perform.  I was impressed when one male patient performed "Black Dog" by Led Zeppelin.  I'm not suggesting it was a great performance.  I imagine it had a few people laughing and rolling their eyes.  But, it was an ambitious song choice and he really gave it his all.  After he performed I even said, "Good job.  I really liked it."

After that hospitalization I ended up living in a residential care facility (RCF) for a while.  It was kind of a cross between a nursing home and an asylum.  Once again I encountered karaoke.  One day, perhaps during a holiday or celebration, a karaoke machine and microphones were set up in the basement.  I joined in singing that time.  I think I sang with a trio performing "Ring of Fire" popularized by Johnny Cash.  I also sang a duet with another guy.  I think it was rock song from the 1980s.  We ad-libbed some parts we knew from the radio version of the song even though those words didn't appear on the lyrics shown on the karaoke screen.  I had a lot of fun and one of the nursing aides told me I had a nice singing voice.  

Why is it that I've only encountered karaoke when in a hospital or living in an institution?  I guess karaoke has become a standard activity in those types of places just like playing bingo.  When I've been healthier and feeling better I still don't have much of a social life.  So, I guess taking part in karaoke just never happened out in the real world.  I had a co-worker at Wal-Mart whose girlfriend was very good at karaoke and I believe she even won a karaoke contest.  So, karaoke is around.  I've just never had the courage to step out and join in the fun.

Did you know that some establishments allow you to book a private karaoke room?  I thought part of the fun was supposed to be singing in front of a group.  But, some people enjoy having drinks and singing with an exclusive group.  Sometimes couples book a room and sing duets together.  Probably not something one would do on a first date I imagine.  And, I'm sure you know that people can purchase their own karaoke machines for home use.  The karaoke business continues to grow.

A time existed, however, when essentially no one had heard of karaoke in the U.S.  Sure, we sang along to the songs on the radio or records perhaps using a hairbrush or other prop as a microphone.  Sometimes we butchered the lyrics because we didn't really know the words.  But, nothing like karaoke existed. 

What we did have though were air band contests.  Air band contests involve groups of people performing in sync with recorded music.  Except there's no instruments involved.  Individuals are pretending to play instruments.  They are miming the playing of instruments while lip-syncing to the vocals.  For instance, you pretend to play a guitar while strumming the air.  Hence, the term air band.  Some competitions involve playing exclusively air guitar or just lip-syncing.  

One man reminiscing about his experiences growing up in the 1980s writes, "In high school the performances were legendary as groups of cliquey friends would take the stage to perform their favorite bands’ greatest hit.  Homages to ZZ Top replete with long beards and fuzzy guitars were popular.  Tributes to giants of cheese like Journey or Foreigner often brought the house down.  And risqué songs were especially appreciated with the oldest kids striving to push the envelope of decorum with the teachers.  This line was notably crossed when a group of hockey jocks performed “Big Balls" by AC/DC complete with softballs stuffed down black nylons hung around their necks."

When I was in college a local bar held an air band competition one evening.  I didn't take part but it was fun watching.  The only performance I seem to recall is a group of guys performing an amazing rendition of "You Shook Me All Night Long" by AC/DC.  The vocalist lip-syncing to Brian Johnson's lyrics did very well.  And, I was quite familiar with the song so I knew when the guitar solo was going to happen.  I have to admit I didn't have much faith in the young man to pull it off but he did an amazing air guitar solo.

I have a little fantasy that if I could go back in time I could join the air band competition that evening lip-syncing to "Adducted to Love" by Robert Palmer.  But, could I have convinced five young ladies to join me wearing tight black dresses and  high voltage red lip gloss with their hair slicked back?  The ladies in the iconic video with Palmer weren't playing the instruments anyway not that anyone minded.  

Tom Cruise performed a famous air guitar and lip-sync scene in the movie Risky Business.  What young man hasn't pranced around in his underwear lip-syncing to a song?  Who hasn't performed an air guitar solo trying to mimic their favorite guitarist? 

 

And, the character Duckie Dale lip-synced to Otis Redding singing "Try a Little Tenderness" in the movie Pretty in Pink.

We all want to be that talented and cool. 

I bet people still pretend to be playing a keyboard when Van Halen's "Jump" comes on the radio and they hear that iconic synthesizer intro. 

I recall Ellen DeGeneres talking about lip-syncing in one of her stand up routines.  She said something like, "You ever lip-sync to records and pretend you're the singer.  You use your hairbrush for a microphone as you lip-sync to the record.  And when the song is over you run back to your bedroom and pretend it's your dressing room.  And then you start eating some fruit because you pretend that someone sent you a fruit basket.  And then you start swigging champagne and snorting cocaine."

Then she looks at the audience and delivers the punch line, "You all do that, right?"

I think people are fairly kind when it comes to judging a karaoke performance.  No one expects you to be amazing.  No one cares if you make mistakes unless it's an actual contest, of course.  

Rob Sheffield, author of Turn Around Bright Eyes: The Rituals of Love & Karaoke, writes, "If you’re someone like me, a fan who loves music but could never hack it as a musician, karaoke changes everything. It unlocks the door to center stage. It’s a safe and welcoming place where anyone can join in the music. So even if you never summoned the courage or skill to cross that line from fan to participant, karaoke is something anybody can do."

Writer Niels Footman expresses something similar in regards to his karaoke experiences in Asia.  He writes, "There was an undeniable sense of camaraderie, a feeling that tonight, at least, everyone was as one in the crucible of behaving very foolishly indeed."

Air band competitions also offer a safe haven for people to let loose and have some fun.  Air band contests are mainly just a fun form of entertainment though some individuals do take their air guitar skills rather seriously.  Yes, there is an Air Guitar World Championships.  But, for the most part it's fine to do cheesy, campy performances when performing in an air band. 

But, talent shows like American Idol or The X Factor are another matter altogether.  Judges like Simon Cowell can be brutal.  Perhaps judges believe it's better to be blunt and to the point.  They don't have time to play nice.  Maybe they think it's better to be honest and let someone know their singing voice stinks.  And, let's face it sometimes people do stink.

Evidently some people aren't very good at gauging their own level of singing ability.  Sometimes a contestant auditions and the judges are cringing and the viewers like you and I are as well.  They can't sing and yet are oblivious to their lack of talent.  I know I'm not a great singer.  I know that on a good day I can carry a tune but I have a realistic idea of my singing ability.

Some contestants get upset and are genuinely surprised when they're told their performance is subpar.  Do you recall William Hung?  He was a sweet guy and thought he was really nailing his performance when Simon Cowell told him bluntly that he obviously couldn't dance or sing.  Paula had been smiling supportively during William's performance while Randy was laughing so hard he finally covered his face.  Yes, William's performance was cringe-worthy.  But, who am I to judge?  William kind of had the last laugh by becoming a bit famous for a while and actually making some money through his passion for singing.  

Maybe we shouldn't be too hard on contestants.  Perhaps several times in their lives they've been given the well-intentioned message that they can be and do whatever they want in life.  Maybe they've heard stories about Elvis Presley receiving a C in music class and being told by his teacher that he had no aptitude for singing.  When Elvis was a little older he auditioned for a group only to be told to stick to truck driving "because you're never going to make it as a singer."  We've all heard stories about famous people being told they had no talent. 

Still, it concerns me that perhaps I'm not a very good judge of my own abilities when it comes to certain activities.  I like to write and I've gotten a lot of positive comments about my ability.  But, I've also received some friendly criticism as well.  How does one know if they are truly talented at something?

I know it's okay to do an activity regardless.  If you like to sing or dance or do whatever just for you that's perfectly fine.  

I suppose I wish the world could be as kind and forgiving as a karaoke audience.  It's nice when people don't expect you to be perfect and don't mind if you make mistakes.  They lift you up and support you and cheer you on.  

I guess sometimes in life we do have to be nearly perfect.  A doctor can't afford to be merely adequate at his of her job although I'm sure even they make mistakes and could use a bit of compassion, acceptance, support, and encouragement at times.

But, we certainly don't need to be perfect at everything.

Remember what Karen Carpenter sang:

Sing, sing a song 

Sing out loud, sing out strong 

Sing of good things not bad 

Sing of happy not sad 

Sing, sing a song 

Make it simple to last your whole life long 

Don't worry that it's not good enough 

For anyone else to hear 

Just sing, sing a song