Post-Covid Japan: Kudo...What is Happening!?

Returning to Japan. Finally. A little thing called Coronavirus, among other shenanigans, had kept me away for a few years. I wondered how it had changed in that time. Where things really as bad as the news would have people believe? Since the border was functionally closed for a couple of years, the interest among foreigners to visit Japan had only grown during that time. Couple that rising interest with a plummeting Japanese economy, creating a very favorable currency exchange rate, and when the border restrictions were lifted tourists poured in, in record numbers. Month after month record numbers of foreigners flooded into Japan, and the influx was not going smooth. The news reported incident after incident of rude tourists trespassing on private houses, defacing landmarks, blocking transit, leaving garbage everywhere, and generally being a nuisance. The various effected areas had reached the social breaking point and began banning foreigners from sites, and in some cases whole towns. The areas still serving tourists implemented duel pricing, one price for locals and one triple the cost for foreigners. I couldn't blame them, in fact I supported it. The natural consequences of such behavior. I would have to go out of my way to show I wasn't one of these people. After all, I was there on business.


During the Kudo winter camp earlier in the year in Colorado, Headmaster Osada and Komatsu Sensei had personally invited me and JD, head of USA Kudo, to come to the summer training camps in Japan, as well as for me to finally take another rank test for the organization. It was to be a few weeks of hardcore training and a little 10-man MMA gauntlet. JD also had an important meeting I'd agreed to help interpret. I hadn't planned on going to Japan during the summer since I had quit the valet gig and was focusing on getting my broken jaw and teeth repaired, which meant I needed to focus on finding a stable “real” job... which turned out to be much more difficult that it used to be. Money was beyond tight, with the jaw stuff and no stable income, I really couldn't afford to go to Japan. However, this would likely be my only chance to fight in the test before I would undergo a year of invasive mouth surgeries and such meaning I couldn't be able to do anything. I also couldn't turn down a personal invite from the global Headmaster! I'd find a way to make it work. Thankfully in the three months between the invite and shipping out for Japan I was able to land some gigs.


I continued auditioning for things, and wound up landing several more television commercials. The money helped big time, and I made some connections that would hopefully land me bigger and better things. I also picked up some gigs working with an off-shoot of the valet company doing events, mostly weddings, but also political fundraisers and whatever else needed staffed. I wound up meeting former Vice President Mike Pence at one of these events...to my surprise he was a perfectly lovely person to speak with. We chatted for at least 10 minutes, and while I'm sure our personal beliefs have almost no overlap, he seemed genuinely nice. It was a pleasant surprise.


The days ticked by, more auditions. I went on a podcast discussing the positive influence martial arts can have on the current directionless male youth. I went out for an action movie filming in Vietnam. The casting director told me that 2,000 people had gone out for the role and only 24 got call backs. I was one of the 24! I didn't wind up getting it, but I was making progress. I continued my numerous expensive consultations between dentists, orthodontists, periodontists, and surgeons. The orthodontist was the ringleader, but several months into the consultations I heard through the grapevine his wife blew her brains out...Could I trust this guy to stay focused after that!? At this point, I didn't have much of a choice. With money flying out of me rapidly I started to be concerned I wouldn't have any when I got back from Japan. Since JD and I were invited and he had official business with the Headmaster we were to get some of the incidentals taken care of by the organization, but even with some things getting compensated I would still be just barely scrapping by. Then I get contacted by a corporate recruiter. They pitched me a job and it sounded great! I mean I wasn't psyched for some corporate job, but it's not like I could go gallivanting for at least a year while my face was closed for renovations, so I thought I may as well make the most of it … plus I desperately needed the money. We had a phone interview, then a remote video interview, then an in-person interview, then they wanted me to come in … while I was to be in Japan. I told them when I would get back, and they said if they couldn't find someone better between then I could come in. Good enough!


During this erratic three month period I trained diligently for the gauntlet. Outside of my regular daily practice I was spending at least an extra 4 days a week at the gym training for 4 hours at a time. Full body power, strength, and endurance, for the purpose of enduring grueling Japanese training camps and dominating the fighting gauntlet. In a completely rare turn of events, as long as nothing crazy happened, I would be thoroughly prepared for what I would face! I also crossed paths with currently popular martial arts youtube man “Sensei Seth”. He was the USA sumo champion at the time. I thought he might like to learn the Okinawan forearm conditioning drill. He humored me, but bailed immediately. “Post the video of us doing that. Call it 'I defeated Sensei Seth' or something! You'll get a ton of views!” I did, and it didn't, but he was fun to train with. I look forward to training with him again. Meanwhile I was working any gig I could get in order to get to Japan, and training like a possessed person to succeed when I got there. There was just one small problem. It was two weeks before shipping out and I hadn't heard anything from the Kudo organization... anything.


Two weeks before departure and I didn't even know what city I was going to! How was I supposed to buy a plane ticket, let alone find a place to stay!? Japan was experiencing the biggest tourist boom in it's history, making it virtually impossible to find a place to stay, jacking prices to exorbitant levels, and needing to make reservations well in advance, which I couldn't do on no information. I reached out to JD as the head of USA Kudo... he hadn't heard from anyone either, but told me he would let me know when he did. We had been personally invited, in person! I was tired of the red tape, so I contacted Komatsu sensei directly. “Oh, you're coming to the camps? That'll be fun!” ...He was there when the Headmaster invited us, but he was drunk... we had talked about this, but I guess he didn't remember? Where are the camps? The test? Where am I going!? “I'll let you know when I have any information.”


...Let me know when he has any information!? He's one of the organizations top men in Japan! JD just bought a plane ticket to Tokyo and decided we'd sort it out from there. Bryant had also planned on taking the exact same test as me, since we'd tested together previously. He wanted to hang in Japan training at headquarters for a bit so he flew out a couple days early. LA chief Will was also going to test with us, but was flush with money so not worried about logistics, but I was. I bought a ticket to Tokyo, that would see me arrive two days before JD, and had to scramble to find some place to stay. JD said “What's the big deal? Aren't you used to sleeping on the ground, winging it, especially in Japan?” Yeah, but when people see you sleeping on the street vagabonding around and you're a teenager people think it's romantically eccentric and adventurous. It's a different vibe when you're in your late thirties! I bought a cheap burner phone I was medium sure I could get working there and we agreed to meet up and figure it all out once everyone got to Tokyo. I sent a message to my best Japanese buddy Mori with the phone information so we could meet up once I got some free time between camps. We tested it out and it worked state-side. I told him I'd message him when I got to Tokyo.


In the meantime the only word I'd gotten back from Komatsu sensei was that even though I didn't know the cities these camps would be in, we would all be expected to stay together with the other camp trainees, and the organization would arrange it. I didn't need anyone to arrange anything, and I likely couldn't afford whatever they had planned if it wasn't comped. Just tell me the city so I can get a hostel, or pitch a tent somewhere! Not only did I not know the cities these camps would be, I didn't even know the prefectures! I had been grinding like hell to make this happen and this was adding unnecessary stress. It really seemed like nobody knew what they were doing, and I'm always teetering on leaving any organization anyway. If I hadn't been personally invited by the headmaster in person, and then via private message, I would think this whole thing wasn't even real!


Ready or not, the day came. I got up at 5am and left. Good thing I left myself extra time, there was road construction, like always. I flew out and changed planes in Toronto. There were new customs protocols I wasn't familiar with, but things went surprisingly smooth. Arriving in Japan I found the airport was covered in Super Mario Bros banners, props, and iconography. Finally in Japan, I bought my train ticket from a machine in Japanese... it took a bit, it had been awhile! I forgot just how long it took to get from plane to train to town. My plane had landed before 4pm, but I wasn't at my place until after 9pm. In fact, I wasn't even sure I actually HAD a place to stay! The whole “reservation” was sketchy. It was dark, rainy, and hot. I really hoped I didn't ave to wander around looking for a place to stay. Thankfully, I actually got checked in! I used wifi to message Bryant who had arrived just a couple days earlier. HE said that KOMATSU said we wouldn't leave for the camps until Saturday. We knew the camps started Saturday so we were under the assumption we would leave Friday for travel, but then again Bryant was off having drinks with some girl, so the intel could have been compromised. I was wiped out from the journey, so I crashed shortly after 10pm.


I woke up at 5am, unrested and jet lagged. After my morning exercises I headed out to my old stomping ground in Shinjuku to see how things had changed. So far the foreigners weren't overwhelming... though Shinjuku had always had a lot of them and I had only just arrived. The price difference was immediately noticeable though. I had a day to fill before JD arrived, so I ran souvenir recon and tried to find out how I was going to get the burner phone actually working. Bryant and I decided to meet up for dinner and drinks after he got back back from training in Chiba prefecture for the night. He didn't realize how far from Tokyo proper it was, and couldn't read or speak Japanese so he kept getting lost on the way and never made it, so we just met in Shinjuku. We went on a pub crawl of course, and found a super cool okonomiyaki place... but then they sat us in an abandoned back quarantined off part of the restaurant, with a table so small my legs wouldn't fit under it, at a grill we couldn't use. Not great. Since Bryant had never been to Shinjuku or Kabukicho, I took him around. The yakuza district still has Nigerian toughts all over, especially all over Bryant! Besides that the place was actually a little WORSE than it used to be, since the public organized crime had been suppressed so hard, the area kind of fell into unruly mess. The buildings still looked good and the streets were still nice, they were just now littered with bodies of addicts strung out on cough syrup, and homeless people on cardboard sheets. A little taste of home! Bryant and I drank until we missed the last train, he took an expensive taxi and I walked back to my place. I got to bed after 1am and was back up around 5am, jet lagged and unrested.


JD would be coming in that evening, so I went off to Meiji Jingu to buy some talismans for my buddy and his daughter who were each fighting for their lives with cancer and a rare heart condition respectively. The shrive maiden said she had just the thing, and since my buddy is religious I figured he'd like all the super natural help he could get. While I was in Harajuku I ate some crepes with the rest of the fashionable ladies, and tried not to get killed by the heat. It was so hot! Lucky me there was a record setting heat wave that was crippling the whole country. The coldest Tokyo summers are barely tolerable with the heat and humidity, this was next level. I usually don't sweat, but I hadn't stopped sweating since I landed! I finally tracked down a super shady office in Kabukicho for getting the phone working. While I'm fairly confident it was a criminal business, the service worked and they weren't able to shake me down for more than we agreed on, though I had to jump through a ton of hoops. The same company also offered medical insurance. I told them I wanted it when we were setting up the contract and when I went to pick it up it wasn't there! “Most people don't need it, so we took it off.” I need it. “We can add it later, just email us.” Emailed later. “The contract is already out, so we couldn't add it in.” Hell no. We had a face to face and straightened it out. With the phone working, I messaged Mori.


My jet lag now was really hitting me, worse than I'd ever felt, and against better judgment I took a nap from 3pm to 7pm while waiting to get contacted by JD. Once he got settled he and I met up with Komatsu Sensei for dinner and drinks and to finally get told what the hell was going on. We finally got something resembling a plan, though even still didn't know what city we were heading to! At least we'd be traveling together and had a timetable... but things were already sounding way more expensive than initial projections. JD said his student was going to come with him as well to test, but wound up getting deployed, and Will got hurt and wouldn't be coming either! It was just me and Bryant now. The three of us drank until late and I missed the train again! I walked back in the scorching heat of the middle of the night and got to bed at 2am. I was back up by 5:30am, still struggling with jet lag.


Komatsu sensei had confirmed we would travel on Saturday, despite the camp starting the same day. JD, Bryant, and I had all thought we would travel on Friday, because we couldn't get even the most basic of information from the organization before heading to Japan. This meant all three of us only had our separate accommodations booked until Friday, now we needed a no-notice day-of extension! I was “lucky” I could extend my stay under the circumstances, but they price gauged me and tripled the rate! An expense I wouldn't have incurred with even the most basic of communication! Bryant couldn't get his stay extended so he wound up dragging his luggage around hot and humid Tokyo looking for a new place for the night.


In the morning, JD, Bryant, and myself met up to buy our convoluted train tickets to camp. When Bryant found out what the actual price was going to be for everything he bailed on the first camp. “It's too expensive! I can train here.” I shared the sentiment, but had already come this far and didn't want to snub the personal invite from the headmaster and have it look bad for the test. The shinkansen tickets WERE crazy expensive, and Komatsu sensei said he'd meet us at noon at the train station to help us buy the convoluted tickets, and everyone was messaging him and we got no response. Then at 4pm texted JD with something like “ You good?” What the heck!? On top of that we still didn't know when the camp would end, where to stay, how to get a return ticket, and where and when to stay when we got back to Tokyo waiting for the next camp. What is going on!? That night it wasn't just my jet lag keeping me awake. I was too angry and anxious, on top of the jet lag. I wouldn't have even needed to take the stupid expensive bullet train if I'd known where and when things were happening! The Japanese are supposed to be masters of organization, and martial artists more so. I suspected something was up.


As I lay sleepless my mind formed a couple of theories, both equally possible or they both could be true. First, I wondered if the whole poorly handled logistical communication situation was really just the result of organizational professional incompetence. An insane number of balls had been dropped, and more continuing to be dropped, from a country that hand writes, stamps, and faxes all paperwork that is then stored in folders, not digitally archived, and has more layers of bureaucracy than it has people to fill them. Thought of that way, this wasn't surprising, just disappointing. We were supposed to be better than that. The other theory I had was that, in fact, we were never meant to be in Japan at the camps in the first place. Despite talking with Komatsu sensei and Headmaster Osada about it months before at dinner and getting invited, then getting a personal message from the headmaster. Why else were we literally the only foreigners that were to be at these camps in this massive global organization? It's important not to mistake politeness for niceness. Too many things were adding up. Nothing about the business part of this trip had gone right, been fun, or felt good since being here. It was negatively effecting me mentally and financially. Had I also lost my chance at that corporate job? I was losing money, job opportunities, and time to get medical stuff done. This was increasingly feeling like I'd gambled and lost. The thoughts of a tired and restless mind.


I got up unrested and tensely went to the bathroom, lifted the toilet lid... injuring my back!? Badly. I had never thrown my back out before, I don't recommend it. I knew through my schooling and training that when you injure something like that doing basically nothing it's usually a “straw that broke the camel's back” culmination of things that were building up for awhile. My theory was that my current knee injury was causing a subtle compensation causing my body torque to shift, while my jaw injury was causing a separate shift, with the two meeting in my back. The extreme jet lag, stress, and lack of rest likely combined with what was already happening and finally got me. I texted JD and shared the comedy with him, but I wasn't going to let it stop me. I was already there after all. If I didn't go to the camps and fight, what was the point of coming, besides interpreting for JD's meeting?


I met up with JD at 9am, sweaty and injured, to board the bullet train for Yamagata where I was finally told we would go for the first training camp... a couple hours in, I find out we're not even going to Yamagata, we're going to Ninohe near Hokkaido! Ahhhh! Even on the way, mid-transit, I have no clue what's happening!


We arrived in Ninohe, a small town. We would be training in the town dojo, a very old wooden structure with no centralized air. Komatsu said most people hate it, but I liked it. Before we got to training we stopped by our hotel... and it wasn't time for us to check in yet, so we had nothing to do with our bags, couldn't shower, or do any of that good stuff. We schlepped our stuff over to a village noodle shop and Komatsu, JD, and I got lunch. The food was good, the news was bad. Komatsu said I shouldn't fight in the test. What!? He said I shouldn't compete in the test because he thought my jaw had already been fixed and this was my grand comeback. We had talked about this! This was my FAREWELL before all the surgeries and whatnot. Despite multiple conversations otherwise, he still forgot or wasn't paying attention. My heart sank. Apparently JD had told Komatsu about my back and knee before we got on the train, which prompted a conversation where Komatsu was reminded of my current condition. I argued I'd be fine, but the evidence to the contrary was mounting. I was sure I would sway him once he saw me at the training camp. As long as I baby'd my knee, focused on my back, and didn't take too heavy of a hit to the face I'd be fine. Not the best circumstances, but this was to be the only chance, so you make the most of what you've got. We finished lunch, dropped our stuff at the hotel, and made for the old town dojo.


The town was very rural, and the dojo was rugged. The group was dripping with sweat before we even began training in the intense heat. The turnout for this camp was relatively small, maybe 20-30 people. Since this was to be an old school hardcore summer training camp. Everyone there was Japanese except for JD and myself. Besides me, there was one other guy there with a decent command of both English and Japanese: Watanabe. Watanabe grew up with Headmaster Osada and was friends with him. At a certain point their paths veered off in complimentary directions; as Osada delved deeper into martial arts, traveling to study different styles, Watanabe became a monk. He no longer fights as a matter of principle, but helps his friend with the organization. He also lived in New York for years and ran a vintage clothing antique shop, and we bonded over our love of old leather military jackets. Between the two of us we made sure nothing much was lost in translation for JD.


Training was going well, and I was pleased with my performance. We began light sparring, rotating through partners. By the third or fourth guy I couldn't catch my breath, sweat pouring out from me, I hadn't exerted myself at all. My pulse spiraled up erratically, my vision narrowing. I doubled over with my hands on my knees trying to feel like my breaths mattered. I felt pale, cold and hot at the same time like I had some kind of cooling ointment on. Was I having a heat stroke!? At the very least it seemed to be a heat exhaustion episode. We took a break and I tried to hydrate and cool down. Nothing worked, and even doing nothing I couldn't catch my breath. I resumed training, but I took it very easy, and was told to take it even easier still. Over an hour and I still couldn't catch my breath. The Japanese man standing next to me just fully passed out and hit the ground. I offered to help treat him, since I had ample training, but they didn't seem keen on the dying foreigner jumping in. None of my business. We finished up the first day of training and Osada, Komatsu, and Watanabe were talking about how heat-strokey I looked, and JD told them that thanks to the worst jet leg I had ever experienced I hadn't had any real rest in a week. Everyone agreed I needed to hydrate hard and go to bed early to actually get some sleep, and then I would feel better. I agreed. I then found out that everyone had an early morning PT, 6:30am run with pushups, squats, and the like and then breakfast. Nobody told us to bring running shoes! Neither JD nor myself had running shoes. Watanabe said Komatsu should have told us. I told them I would just jog barefoot, no problem. All the higher ups told me not to go at all, to sleep in and go straight to breakfast. I didn't need to be caudled! I just needed water and a nap! Searching on the internet says that extreme jet lag can cause flu-like symptoms; that plus the heat stroke had really laid me out. I felt like I had HAPE all over again!


We all showered up and went out to the after training drinking party. They're normally filled with booze and late nights, but thankfully Osada doesn't drink and is health conscious along with Watanabe, so I figured I'd be able to hydrate and go to bed at a decent time. While we were at the dinner one of the higher ups revealed that Komatsu sensei had given him the wrong address for the training, and since this was a small mountain town with no public transport and bad reception, he wound up hiking around town for hours asking locals for directions. “my bad” Komatsu said. … This was even to a Japanese higher up. What was going on!? The dinner ended before midnight, and despite Komatsu's best efforts to continue the party we were all able to escape to our rooms for some rest, and I finally got SOME sleep.


I slept fully for the first time since being back in Japan, I woke up at 6 for morning training. I felt even worse and more beat up than before I got the rest! I felt truly bad. I felt so terrible that I didn't even hesitate, I knew I had no business going and I went back to bed for an hour and a half before breakfast. I got up and struggled through my morning exercises. That was it. Heat stroke crossed with jet lag combined with the mess of things up until then told me I would not be fighting in the test. To come to terms with all that all at once was a heavy blow to bear. What was even the point of staying in Japan? I was broke and broken, and being there seemed to be making both worse. I was hemorrhaging money, things costing way more than initially lead to believe, and I was missing potential opportunities. I considered cutting my trip short several weeks and just heading back to the States. I had paid extra money for a ticket that let me do just that, though I thought I might need to adjust a day, not weeks. It was all mute anyway, the news that day was that a global internet security update had backfired and ground most major industries to a halt, including hospitals, and most relevant to me, airlines. An intentional security update had done more damage to the world than any cyber terrorist ever had. The U.S. Airlines were down for about a week! I couldn't leave even if I needed to. Not much to do now but go and eat breakfast.


After breakfast but before training we had to check out of the hotel, again leaving us with no place for our bags or to shower after training. Annoying. At least the training went a little better, and while I still felt terrible, and felt out of breath, I wasn't actually having a heat stroke IN THAT MOMENT so I did just fine. Osada Jukucho even congratulated my stubbornness, surprised anyone would come back after what I looked like. He gave me a “Kudo DaidoJuku” branded gym bag as a present and jokingly said it was a “congratulations on not dying” gift. With the first camp over, and knowing I wouldn't be fighting but still feeling bad, I was aimless. JD asked what I was going to do for the next week before camp 2 started. I had thought I might go climb Mt. Fuji for the fourth or fifth time to clear my head, but with the climbing season officially on, and tourist numbers at record highs, the government had made it so you must get a permit to climb, and they needed to be reserved in advance. The mountain was backlogged. The news showed clips of what looked like people walking in a 10 hour long line, shoulder to shoulder from bottom to summit. No thanks, even if I could have got a spot. I told JD I didn't know what I was going to do. “Well, we're pretty close to Hokkaido. I've never been. Want to come with me to Sapporo? You could use the rest.” … Yes.


Watanabe said he would drive us to the train station, and when I asked if there was a bathhouse around he took it upon himself to drive us around, questing for one. We did find a really nice one, but given the small town vibe, we couldn't get in due to JD and Watanabe's tattoos. Watanabe really didn't like that. Living in New York for so long had opened his eyes to the downsides of Japanese society. We eventually had to cut our search or we would miss the train. As Watanabe saw us off he handed one of his business cards to each of us. “If you get into trouble in Sapporo, call me!” What kind of trouble would we get into? “Like if you get into fights with Yakuza, or trouble with the police, or some kind of woman scam, or something.” ...What kind of person do you think I am!? “... call me if you get into trouble.” …


JD and I got on the train headed toward Sapporo, stopping for the night in Hakodate where we could bath and do laundry. Finally getting some REAL sleep, I still felt crappy though.


Riding the bullet train through Hokkaido, “The Alaska of Japan”, to Sapporo, it's capitol, I fantasized about how nice it would be to have a break from the heat and humidity. We arrived and as we disembarked... it was still so hot and humid! There was no relief anywhere! Every news cast was about how unprecedented the heat was, especially in Hokkaido! Lovely. JD and I wandered around Sapporo looking for our accommodation. JD had booked it from his phone on the train ride over, based on their website and description. What we found when we arrived was apparently not what he thought we'd be getting. We were staying in a nonsensical combination male-only bathhouse/pachinko parlor/manga cafe/low end capsule hotel. I was pretty sure it was some kind of homeless shelter or something. The guys that stayed there were animals; everything was always wet and sticky. The actual bathhouse part was at least refreshing. Once we got settled we went traipsing around the famous Tanuki Street shopping arcade and then hit the massive central park that is basically 13 blocks of beer gardens. The whole of Sapporo has a very European grid layout unlike the rest of Japan, and the massive booze filled central park completes the look. When in Rome, so we hit the park and went on a pub garden crawl. Right as we were going to call it a night we got approached by a man and woman from New Zealand, psyched to see other foreigners and wanted to see if they could hang with us. We wound up drinking, eating and singing karaoke until 3am. I woke up three hours later to get on with the day. So much for rest! If you're going to feel bad no matter what you may as well have fun and make the most of it. JD and I spent the day visiting the Sapporo tower, riding the ferris wheel, and discovering that it wasn't just the park: the whole city was one giant beer garden theme park!


After a couple days JD and I went to Shiraoi to see the Ainu, indigenous people, museum. They seemed very much like the Inuit and similar northern tribes around Alaska. Once back in Sapporo we visited the major shrine, made ample use of the hot bath and sauna, and decided we would get massages at the shady place we were staying. The lady giving my massage wanted to know if I was a body builder. I explained about Kudo and that I was there for training camps. This was also where I realized just how messed up my face and jaw actually were. The masseuse rubbed my scalp and face, and it hurt! It hurt to touch. I hadn't had anyone touch my face in a non-combative fashion for awhile, so I hadn't realized how sensitive it was. I was more motivated than ever to get it fixed.


The second camp was drawing near, and since we had no idea where it was, JD and I headed to rendezvous with everyone back in Tokyo to get it sorted. After a nine hour bullet train ride we arrived back in Tokyo, and I moved to the only available hostel I could find in the area. It was literally the worst I'd ever seen, or even heard about, in Japan.


Everything in this hostel cost extra money, was broken, and was covered in black mold. There was no way this place was legal. It looked like it was run BY people in the country illegally FOR people in the country illegally. There was an American staying there with a heavy southern drawl rambling about how vaccines weren't real and the only thing you need to fight diseases like COVID and Scabies is horse medicine... you normally don't see that kind of person out of their natural habitat and interacting with a global population, but it made a certain kind of sense that if they were going to be out anywhere, it would be in this shit-hole. The place was full of smelly people chewing with their mouths open and leaving garbage everywhere. When I checked in I needed to pay a deposit of 2,000yen for a key that didn't go to anything. It was 100yen to rent a towel, and the shower ran on coins. Two of the five showers where broken, covered in black mold. The other three showers worked, covered in black mold. The coin slot for the showers was across the room, and you could only put in one at a time, so if you were in the shower and time ran out you had to get out, walk across the room, and put another coin in. Three of the four clothes dryers were broken. Most of the light fixtures were missing lights. Most of the toilets were broken and smelled like people had been pooping in them without flushing for years; the extreme heat and humidity mixed with the smell made the bathroom unbearable. The ceiling had fallen down in spots from untreated leaks, black mold creeping along the sagging holes. The cubicles where we slept had outlets that were mounted too high and at a weird angle so you couldn't actually use them. The carpeted elevator and stairs were ripped and soggy from what seemed to be decades of abuse. Signs hung at every sink telling you not to shave anywhere since it would clog everything. This building clearly used to be something else before these squatters faked a hostel there, but I couldn't tell what. Was it a small casino or a love hotel? The place seemed staffed almost exclusively by French Africans, the type you might find everywhere in Kabukicho. The place was the same price as other legitimate places, so I must assume if someone is staying there by choice it's because they legally couldn't stay elsewhere. The only reason I was there was because everywhere else was booked, and I immediately rebooked my initial hostel for when the second camp was over. I wasn't going to chance winding up back in this place!


Meanwhile, the whole time we'd been gone Bryant had to keep moving places because he couldn't find one spot with longer availability. He kept winding up dragging his copious luggage around the streets of Tokyo searching for a place to stay. Though I suspect some of that was on him. This was the same guy that continued to consistently get on the wrong trains.


JD had a meeting at headquarters regarding restructuring the organization and functionally separating USA Kudo from Japan in the operations aspects. This trip had seem to show that the organization couldn't handle their business, and I simply had run out of tolerance for organizational nonsense, especially Japanese organizational nonsense. Kudo is a big international organization with branches in over 60 countries, but they didn't have a publicly accessible dojo directory even though they're all officially registered with the headquarters. The English side of their website contained no information and hadn't been updated in 8 years. You want official regulation sanctioned equipment? You can only get it with permission from the area branch chief who need permission to sell it to you from headquarters. Want to look up the rules to the tournaments? Too bad, they aren't public. You need to contact the area branch chief, who needs to contact headquarters. This is of course because the rules change to whatever benefits Japan at that specific moment. Want to hold a seminar or camp? You must ask headquarters for permission. They'll likely deny you. They want absolute control, but didn't even seem able to control basic itineraries, or respond to emails. I had hit my limit. The headmaster and top instructors were great guys, but they only operate the technical and art side of Kudo, the logistical and financial side is handled by a sister organization.


I learned from Watanabe that there were already problems forming between the current headmaster, the founder's family, the heir apparent Ryota, and the logistics side. It was Kyokushin politics all over again! Kyokushin's politics had also recently received a new wrinkle in the form of Mas Oyama's daughter, Kurisutina, suing every offshoot organization and begging for money. All Japanese martial arts organizations seem to wind up like that. I had hoped Kudo might stave it off a little longer. I learned that it was likely political infighting that had caused this trip to go sour. Watanabe informed me that all the higher ups on the technical and art side just wanted to teach anyone interested, spread their art, and keep training, they didn't care about money. He said everyone either had an “artist spirit” or a “business spirit”. He said they all had artist's spirits “They don't have an attraction to money. They just love what they do and want to share it. That's why most of these guys are in their 60's and broke. The second they get money they just use it for something to do some training. They just want to chill and practice and help others do the same.... watch it or you'll wind up like them.” I could feel he was right. “The people who run the logistics side don't even train, they're just business people. They only care about making money. They say 'give me money and I'll 'LET' you practice.' They want to charge people for the 'privilege' of training and the 'right' to use Kudo.” I've never liked the “let” me practice people. I can train in jeans and a T-shirt in a parking lot. That's the beauty of the martial arts, you don't need a designated place or a special uniform. You don't need recognition from weak corporate thieves.


It now seemed that in an internal power struggle to wrestle control of the organization the logistics side had been purposefully withholding intel and plans, even from it's top instructors! No wonder everything was so scattershot, not even they knew what was happening. It's not uncommon for a Japanese organization to have an internal power struggle, but it was off brand for it to spill out all the way down to grunts. It makes it seem, correctly, that they don't have it together. They lose face. Traditionally if there was a public problem in a Japanese group it wasn't “someone's” fault, it was the whole group. If this is how things were going to be I would keep up my training, but I would stay as far away from the organization's professional inefficiency as possible. If that were truly the case, I wouldn't ever get to fight in that test. Though if I really wanted, it would be no different than my initial Kudo rank test, or climbing Denali, or anything else. I could always find a way down the road if I needed. The ranks don't matter anyway. I could smash through scores of higher ranks or get a run for my money from one lower rank. The ranks are only for conducting business within the organization, and it didn't seem like I was going to be doing much of that now. At least I still had the training camps. I would learn more from them than from fighting.


Armed with the knowledge of what seemed to be happening in the organization didn't do much to relieve my frustrations. I got the information for the next training camp less than 15 hours before we were set to go, and it wasn't even the complete information. Still frustrating. This wasn't television, if you're only finalizing your plan moments before you need it, you're amateur. Where they an international organization getting sabotaged from within, or where they just like every other Japanese company, only caring about the Japanese side of the business?


I set off to meet up with JD, and Komatsu sensei to travel to the camp together. I left my scummy “hostel” at 6am, already filled with people drinking alcohol. This training camp was in an area completely inaccessible by train, so Komatsu rented a car for us to carpool. Apparently this would be the last time the organization would use this venue, Komatsu said it's too expensive. He said we were lucky to get to go there for the final camp. Speaking of luck, Will showed up last minute after all. Apparently he had injured his back badly, but decided to fly out last minute to test with me and Bryant, begrudgingly now just Bryant. After a few hours on the road we arrived at the hotel and it was super nice! No wonder it was so expensive. The camp was held in Nasu, Tochigi prefecture. Contrasting with the last camp, the training was held in a very modern facility, with a huge number of attendees including women and children. The first day's training went smooth and when it was over we went back to the hotel, had a high-end bath, and relaxed in our traditional tatami room overlooking the river. For dinner we went to the hotel's banquet hall and had a banquet and drinking party. Everyone testing was forced to not drink and go to bed early. Man, what a difference a new headmaster makes! I wasn't testing now, so I drank and socialized with JD as late as the festivities went on. Every Japanese group has the kid that's known to fill the “entertainer” role. This group was no different, and the kid head-butted a watermelon open. It got some good laughs.


I got up with everyone for morning PT training; I wasn't missing out two camps in a row! I still didn't have running shoes, and they still didn't want me to run barefoot, so my run part was substituted for more push ups, squats, and so on. Our PT was by the river and while it was fun, all of us got the biggest itchiest bug bites we'd ever had. Even me, and I rarely get bug bites. They were the kind that last for days and only get worse. Fighting soreness is nothing compared to those things! After PT we had our formal breakfast and then a rest before the first formal training session in the dojo for the day. During our rest Headmaster Osada came to our room and continued the business meeting with JD, head of USA Kudo, as well as Will, LA branch chief, with Bryant, Komatsu, and myself in attendance. Osada agreed with everyone, and USA Kudo was granted it's logistical independence from Japan! Now instead of needing to file a resource request every time someone needed to go to the bathroom, and then wait 3 months for a denial, now the USA side of things would only need to send updates on the things it had done and not ask for permission. USA Kudo was now free to organize tournaments, tests, camps, and dojos on it's own! Maybe I wouldn't be entirely done with organizational stuff after all?


After the meeting we went to the afternoon training, and after that the fighting gauntlet test was held. Will had a back injury and had only been in the country for a day. His performance didn't look good, but he passed. Bryant was coming off his own thing, and aside from a couple smooth moves didn't perform well, but also passed. If that was how it was going to be, then I should have fought too! What was done was done. A kid that was testing wound up snapping his shin. As he was lying down waiting for the ambulance, a teenager broke something else and wound up lying next to him waiting for another ambulance. Who knows, if I had tested I might have been in the same pile. It was quite the party after all. After all the tests we sat around sweating, and eating our bento before quickly showering and hitting the road in our rental car. We stopped at a convenience store on the way back to get some fuel and electrolyte drinks. As I walked out with my sunglasses on Komatsu said “you know, Nash really dose look like some kind of action movie guy or something. You should do that.” We all talked about me working on it.


When we got back to Tokyo, Bryant took off to meet a girl, and I messaged Mori that I was back and my camps were over. I never got a response... JD, Komatsu, and I went out to dinner and drank so late I almost missed check-in at my new hostel. I got there right as they where locking the door. The next night was JD's last, so Bryant and I got together with him and we went on a farewell pub crawl to celebrate and see him off. We went to Kabukicho, where I witnessed a bloody street fight while I was waiting for them to arrive. Just like old times! I showed them the blood pool when they got there and told them they missed the street fight. They looked at me with the side-eye for a second. It wasn't me! This time...


Once we got to it we started by grilling okonomiyaki at a pub, and went from place to place drinking, finally ending in the English pub to watch the broadcast of the Olympic's Judo matches that were happening live. They had recently changed the Judo rules again, and all the matches resulted in stalling for penalties. Sad. As we watched we talked about the relief of USA Kudo gaining independence. It would be easier to do everything now. Bryant commented that it was becoming so expensive to maintain, which I argued was counter to the spirit of things. “You need a 200$ helmet you can only get from them, You need two differently colored competition uniforms from them that are like 200$ a piece.” No, I don't. “Then how will you compete in the world tournament?” I won't, I told you I'm done with the clerical stuff. I've hit my limit. JD said “I don't know why you're surprised about all the stuff that happened, you've dealt with Japanese organizations for decades.” That's why I can't anymore. It's like water dripping on a rock. It finally got through.


JD left Japan and Will was about to follow suit, so Bryant and I decided we would meet up with him and have another congratulatory pub crawl. Of course Bryant was an hour late. We met Will and his son in Akihabara, and while we were waiting on Will's kid to arrive the three of us got stopped to be on some youtube quiz show. I know all kinds of stuff! Time to impress! The topic? Sports... I know nothing about sports. I did recognize the fighters that were on there, but thankfully Will knew every single person on the quiz, so technically “we” did it. Go team! After Will's son arrived we went to a maid cafe, the first time any of us had ever been to one. Bryant was self conscious, but Will and I thought it was hilarious. Plus, Will was paying so I would have gone and done anything. Our maid was a low level pop idol, so who knows, maybe she'll be super famous one day. One of Will's friends joined us at the maid cafe and then we made our way all over town.


Will's friend was quite the character. He used to be a shoot fighter, then became a serial entrepreneur, then used his money to own a racing team. The guy was fascinating; in fact, just that morning he was in the hospital with a serious brain bleed, and now was out to wine and dine with his friend all over town. His assistant was also with him just in case he needed anything, what with him going straight from hospital to walking around socializing. The guy was so cool that even his assistant was cool. Since her boss wasn't able to race his car, he had her do it, despite not having a license or training. He paid to get her up to speed (pun intended), and now she was racing his car on top of being his assistant. She was an international cheerleading champion, bi-lingual in English and Japanese, and 8th degree master ranked calligrapher, turned race car driver. She might be the most interesting girl I ever split dessert with. We all hung out until the last train, and for once I actually made it on!


After Will left it was just down to me and Bryant. We got together and went on a martial arts store pilgrimage. I took him to all the spots I was aware of, then I took him around Tokyo Dome Amusement Park and mall. We were sweating profusely the whole time. I hadn't stopped sweating for weeks! I had come to Japan wearing a brand new pair of jeans and after only a few weeks of nonstop sweating and walking, there was a huge hole in the crotch! They were brand new! It was so hot Bryant and I decided to split up and take mid-day naps to recharge before getting back together for dinner, but we were so smoked we both wound up knocked out for the rest of the day.


My final days were spent hunting for souvenirs. As I went to leave my hostel one early morning a western guy in a chair on the porch turned to me and said “hey. You can't leave.” He said it so matter of fact. I stared for a moment trying to figure out if there was some legal lock down at the hostel, or an earthquake thing happening. He then said “You can't leave... looking that good!” I chuckled. It turned out he was a very drunk Canadian. He was a professional videographer, and after showing me some of his previous work, drunkenly insisted on filming me doing various things. He played music and had me do multiple takes of all kinds of mundane things for over half an hour! I was used to this now because of the commercials I'd been doing, so I just went with it. He had a good pedigree so I wasn't going to miss a chance to potentially make a connection. Once he decided whatever was good enough, we chatted and I found out he also studies Muay Thai! What are the odds? I told him if he ever wanted to shoot some action to reach out to me.


With my souvenir shopping finished, I packed up and got ready to fly out. I still hadn't heard back from Mori, but one advantage of having a phone was that the airline was texting me updates. Air Canada. I truly did not wish to fly with them, but they were the only airline arriving back in the States in time for my next jaw appointment, and to get me back in time to meet about getting that corporate job. I didn't trust them fully so I bought a more expensive ticket with the option to change flights, and I paid for the top flight and travel insurance. I couldn't risk anything. Now, I had just received an update.


My flight wasn't scheduled to leave for 11 and a half hours. I had been casually packing getting ready to head to the airport when I received the message that said due to mechanical problems, my flight would be delayed two and a half hours. I would miss my connection, so who knows when I would be back. That was no good, since I needed to be back on time for my medical and employment stuff. Then I received an update. NOW they were going to fly me out on an earlier flight, to the opposite side of Canada for a full day delay, then to Seattle, the opposite side of America for a 9 hour delay, to get a connection that wouldn't leave until after I should have already been back in the States. Hell no! The message said that since I had the higher level ticket, if I wanted to change my flight to something else all I needed to do was go on the website to do it... The website was down! Likely from everyone else on the flight trying to do the same thing. The website message said that since the website was down I would need to go to the airport to talk to someone in person. On my way!


Trying to get a taxi to the train to the airport was not working out either. No one I spoke with seemed to know English or Japanese. It was like everyone in the country that worked in the service industry was foreign. Non-English OR Japanese speaking foreign.


I finally got a Japanese speaking member of the hostel I was staying in to call a cab for me, and even though the driver still didn't speak any of my languages, it had all been arranged ahead of time. I reached the airport and made for the Air Canada counter. There was only one guy there, and I approached him politely stating what had happened, and asked to change my flight. “We're not open. Come back in an hour.” Sir, I need to get this fixed soon, my flight is scheduled to leave not long after that and it will likely take some time to get sorted. “Not open. Come back in an hour.” Then the guy left. It was around noon at this time, so it's not like it was the middle of the night or anything. This was exactly the kind of service I expected from Air Canada. Since no one would do anything, I decided I wold go grab a coffee or tea and come back in an hour.


I came back to the counter after 30 minutes, thinking I should get in line. The place was deserted and no one was around. I didn't want to stand around doing nothing so I went for a walk. I came back 20 minutes later, 10 minutes earlier than the full hour, to find a line of what looked like over a hundred people! Likely all trying to fix their FUBAR itinerary. I made an effort to see the the guy I talked to earlier. “Back of the line.” I was the guy that talked to you earlier... “Back of the line.” I went to the back of the line, waiting until a counter could see me. Finally it was my turn, and as many people as there had been in front of me before, there were now twice as many behind me.


I explained the message I received and that my flight had been canceled, but now I needed to change my rescheduled flight. The lady working said “No flights have been canceled”. What? I showed her the message. “The Boeing had a mechanical breakdown and couldn't fly on time, so they just auto sent that message. It's actually still going to fly out.” Surprise Surprise the Air Canada Boeing had a mechanical issue. So my flight isn't canceled? “Correct. The system just thought it might be, so it notified you, and then put you on the next available flight”. Perfect, just put me back on my fight and I'm all set. “We can't do that.” What? “You've already been put on a flight.” Yeah, but I need to get back for a medical appointment, so I need to be on the flight I paid for. “We can't, when the system put you on the new flight, it vacated your seat on the old one, which has now been sold to a new person. There is no availability on your original flight.” … but I bought it. I paid extra to choose my seats. I paid extra to get a variable ticket. I bought the top flight insurance. I need a flight that will get me back on time. “There are no other flights.” What will my compensation be since I'm missing my appointments and have the insurance? “We don't do anything with the insurance, you'll have to talk to whatever company you bought the insurance from.” I bought it FROM Air Canada. “.... you'll have to talk to someone else.” I want compensation. “You accepted the new flight, so you're not entitled to compensation.” I did not accept the new flight. “The system auto put you on it.” Who told you to do that? Who asked me if that was alright? “That's just how we run the airline, we sometimes need to shift passengers to other flights. You're getting back, it'll just be a day later, what's the difference?” The difference is a day, my schedule, and the only reason I went with your company and paid extra. So you won't honor my variable ticket, my insurance I bought from you, or compensate me for the extra I paid to choose my seats, and you are still going to charge me extra for my checked bag? “...correct. And you must check your bag because your new flight is overfull so we can't accommodate carry ons.” Unacceptable. I do not accept. “Sir there is nothing more we can do.” you haven't done anything yet, so let's start with you doing something. The line behind me grew into a mass of what looked like a couple hundred angry people, also needing to adjust. I refused to move. They had a security guy there to remove me, but because I was calm and polite the whole time, they couldn't. “Sir, please step aside.” I will not. If you are not able to help me, please get your supervisor so we can resolve the situation. They wound up shutting my counter down while this lady got her manager, who was running another counter that also got shut down so they could help me.


After considerable time they got back with me. “Sir, there is ONE flight available that will get you to your original connection in time.” Great. “There is only one seat left, so if you want it, we need to act fast.” Let's do it then. “It's at the other airport.” What!? “It's the only flight left that has an available seat that will get you to your destination in time.” Do I even have time to get on this plane!? “Plenty of time sir, the flight doesn't leave for 2 hours.” That's not enough time! “We have a shuttle. We'll put you on the shuttle that will take you right to the other airport.” You think 2 hours is enough time to drive across the country, hoping there's no traffic jams or wrecks, then go through security and customs, then get on this flight? “plenty of time”. I knew these people wanted me gone and were mush brains, but they said there was no other options. I said if there were really no other options, give me the flight. If I didn't have my appointments I would have stayed and fought. “Very good.” She then tried to get my tickets sorted and it crashed the system. They couldn't get me unregistered from whatever flights I was automatically put on, and when she tried to get my new flight it showed I was to be on two flights simultaneously. The staff was confused and had to have 3 people over to figure the whole thing out. Air Canada and I were destroying each other... which seemed fine to me at this point. After eating up 10 minutes with computer trouble they finally got the thing working and registered me for my new flight. “Take this to get on the shuttle, and here's your new tickets.” ...One more thing: If I don't make this flight, I'm coming back here. I will be far less agreeable if I have to come back here. You don't want me to come back here. Don't make me come back here.”


I made it to the shuttle bus, and the guy checking tickets asked for mine. I handed him what I was given. “this isn't a ticket, it's a voucher. You need to go back inside the airport and exchange it.” Of course. I rushed back to the exchange counter. “This shuttle leaves now, I'm not sure you'll make it in time... if you miss it you won't be reissued another ticket.” Just give me the ticket! I sprinted back to the shuttle bus, barely making it on. There were thankfully no delays in the road travel, and I made it to the other airport with no time to lose. I just barely made it on my flight, but I made it. After all that, I couldn't even get priority boarding, I was in the absolute last to board trash section. Turns out the “last seat” that was vacant that became mine was vacant for a reason. It was the last seat all the way in the back of the plane up against the bathrooms that doesn't recline and has reduced leg room. I paid extra to pick my seats! No vouchers, refunds, credits, nothing. I looked forward to the day when all the North American Airlines finished their inevitable collapse. As we waited to take off I saw there was a full row of vacant seats in the middle back of the plane! There was a young girl sitting there, and a stewardess came up to her. “I'm sorry, you can't sit there. Where is your seat?” The girl apologized, producing her ticket and asking where her seat was. “Oh, you're in the right spot. This is the seat listed on your ticket, you just can't sit there. This row is reserved for the flight crew if we need it.” Where do I go? “There's a seat open next to that guy.” The stewardess pointed to me. Sure enough there was a seat open next to me, and she had to move to it, taking away what little room was left in the area I was sat. I guess my seat wasn't the “last seat”, and the flight crew never used the entire row they booted the girl out of. I complimented her on her shoes, since they were the same ones I was wearing, and we wound up having a lot of the same tastes. This 18 year old Canadian girl had been studying abroad in Tokyo for the summer. We swapped stories and wound up chatting and sharing movies the whole cramped 13 hour flight. We bonded over getting bullied by Air Canada.


Running to my connection in Toronto, it wound up delayed over 30 minutes. I guess I was one of the lucky ones because the rest of the Air Canada flights had been canceled due to too many planes in the air at once. Americans complained loudly that they were going to be stranded for the weekend and had nowhere to go. Air Canada said there was nothing they could do. How are there not better airlines in North America?


After much stress I made it back, and so did my luggage. Once I made it, I finally got a message from Mori! “My bad! I never check the app and the notifications were defaulted to 'off'. I just got all your messages....” No worries, Next time! I made it back to my place with a few hours to spare, making my jaw appointment. I made it to that corporate job, and finale interview. I got the job! It wasn't what we talked about. We talked about me “helping” in a position I was clear I didn't want to do, for a short time, and then they would allegedly promote me to the CPR/AED/First Aid instructor position I wanted. When I interviewed there was talk of working four 10 hour days. Then when they sent the offer of employment, it was five 8 hour days. Once I started it was five 11 hour days, with the same money since I was salary. Then the “helping” in the job I didn't want became doing the job for “maybe a year” to “hopefully” get me where we initially talked about. I was only at the job a week. Within that week we had an early morning meeting that had a fancy catered breakfast set up, where all the employees had to walk by but were not allowed to eat anything. “Food is for winners.” said the boss. If you wanted to be worthy of food you needed to be the best at your expected metrics. It was to be motivating, and it was. Motivating me to leave. I did not belong in a place like that.


Broke, jobless, I was lucky I got cast in another commercial, but that money wouldn't last long. I called in favors from everyone I knew in the state government and other agencies … no job. I got a call from a Japanese recruiter for companies looking for Americans who read, write, and speak Japanese and English. She asked if I would be interested in working for a Japanese Company. Usually the answer would be no, since they are notoriously abusive and low paying, but I said “yes”, since I had no other prospects. We had an interview in Japanese. “Wow, you're way above the Americans we normally interview. You could have any interpreter job you want. Are you interested?” Yes. “what is you're salary expectation?” Well, in this area where I live a decent starting salary for someone with degrees and certifications would be at least 60,000$, and you said I was well above everyone else you've spoken with, so I wouldn't want to take less than 60,000$. “Yes, that's reasonable. We have a position open for a Japanese company importing executives that don't speak English. You would be in charge of arranging flights, travel, housing, visas, immigration, and anything they might need while in America. The expectation would be that you would be available most of the time.” Sounds fine. “It pays 38,000$” … No thank you. That was all they had the time.


I had an interview to be an investigator for the county, doing some supposedly very important work, at all days and hours, that the plethora of murder cases hinged on. They were paying about the same as the Japanese company! I told them point blank if they offered me the job I would take it, but I would be actively looking for other employment that would pay appropriately. Never heard back.


As part of my jaw work I needed to get my wisdom teeth out. The dentist said I had kept them about 30 years too long, and that they had grown too close to my nerves, so she couldn't take them out; I would need to get a specialist surgeon to take them out. I scheduled with the surgeon, and right before I went in I found out JD was going to be at a Kudo tournament the day after my surgery in Mexico where he said I could do the fight test gauntlet! I told him I'd ask the surgeon if I was cleared. Surgery day came, and I was informed that insurance denied my claim for anesthesia. I had no money, so I had to raw dog it. Again. I don't recommend it! After the procedure, as I lay bleeding, I asked the surgeon if she would clear me to fly to Mexico the following day and MMA fight 10 guys. “Are you serious?” yes. “No! You're not even cleared to go jogging for a week.” Are you serious? “Yes. I know how you guys are. My uncle was a Jujutsu fighter and wouldn't let anyone date me unless they could hold their own with him on the mat. He traveled all over the world fighting guys. I know how you guys are, but there's no way. Just heal.” Fair enough.


As my savings dwindled to almost nothing, and I spent all my time applying for jobs, my other former roommate split un-amicably with his lady. He now needed a place to stay, and asked if he could crash with me until he found a place. I just got the last guy out! I hadn't even had a year to myself! I let the other guy stay then so I figured I should help this one now. It was not a good match. It takes a specific type of person for me to tolerate living with, but I was helping him out, and he was chipping in with rent. Such seemed to be the state of the whole world. It was now the end of the year, and after visiting dentists, orthodontists, periodontists, and surgeons twelve times over the course of this year I then got braces slapped on my teeth to prep me for surgery.


They said I wouldn't have braces as long as someone who would normally have them, since they were just getting me ready for a major operation to repair my smashed regrown-wrong jaw. They said it normally takes a year to get prepped for the surgery, but they were going to try and do it much faster. I told them pain was not an issue, and I heal great, so go nuts. They said if my body could handle it, the plan was to adjust them three times faster than usual to get me ready. Good thing, because not only did they look terrible, but they sliced the inside of my mouth and lips to ribbons, and then they added some things in the back of my mouth that prevented it from closing, meaning none of my teeth touched so I couldn't chew. Smoothies only for the next year!?


The year came to a close, and while I'd been in around 10 television spots and did something with the winner of “Rupaul's drag race”, and spent a month in Japan at exclusive training camps, I hadn't done my gauntlet. I was now unemployed, and because of the braces unlikely to get anymore acting gigs or even eat food, and now I had a begrudging roommate …


The next 12 months seemed like it was going to be one heck of a challenge!
    -NASH