The Culotte King

March 7, 2026

“No, Cathy, they’re not clam diggers.”

“Pedal pushers?”

“No.”

“Capri pants?”

“No.”

“Culottes?”

“NO!”

Whenever I leave for class, Cathy likes to tease me about my wardrobe. It’s good natured of course. 

“Really?” she asks, sizing me up.

“You don’t understand,” I say. “I need to look the part if I’m going to ‘Part the Wild Horse’s Mane’ or ‘Grasp the Bird’s Tail.’”

She rolls her eyes and, giving me a big hug and pat on the back says, “Eye of the tiger, babe. Eye of the tiger.” 

***

When I was first diagnosed with Parky’s, my neurologist, a movement disorder specialist, suggested that I work out as much as possible. Yeah, my Peloton was good for cardio and, yeah, my weights were good for strength, but what I really needed was to work on my movement.

Movement? Okaaaaay…like?

Like, say, boxing. 

I know. I had the same reaction.

“As tempting as it is doc, I’m not sure punching people is the answer. “

There was a good reason for my reluctance. 

You see, the last time I boxed was in the 10^th grade when Cue Ball Carr…the wrestling coach who bore a striking resemblance to Mr. Clean (without the earring) …gave me a poor grade because I opted to dance away from, rather than go toe-to-pugilistic-toe with Bruce Wallace, a guy who lettered in wrestling and had biceps bigger than my thighs. I figured with my cross country conditioning I might outlast Bruce and score a surprise late round TKO when he collapsed in exhaustion trying to chase me down around the wrestling mat. Cue Ball was having none of that, and demanded I mix it up.

It didn’t go well. 

Rock Steady Boxing is a nationwide organization created to help folks “fight back” against Parkinson’s. The local chapter operates out of this dojo on Petaluma Blvd. 

The idea behind the program is that, if we can teach folks to land a punch on a speed bag, much like Bruce landed on me, we can build the kind of balance and focused movement that we Parkies need if we are to offset what’s coming.  It won’t cure the damn affliction but, studies show, it slows it down.

It’s a wonderful program run by dedicated instructors who give of their time so Parkies, some barely able to stand or lift their arms, many brought by caregivers who watch from the wings,  can gamely duke it out with the infuriatingly indifferent inevitability of Parky degeneration.

The pugilists and their coaches are remarkable people. They are truly inspiring.

So? I know what you want to ask…

“What’s it like, Rob?”

I don’t know. I haven’t tried it.

Why not?

It’s not something I’m proud to admit but, if I am honest, I’m scared.

Why?

Well, I suppose it’s just too real a glimpse of my future.  Not tomorrow, not the day after, the month after or the year after, but it’s coming. The future is coming for me like a Bruce Wallace I can’t dance away from and will not likely summon the courage to confront.

The future scares me.

***

“WARDROBE!”

“Wdya think, Cath? This one or that one?

Blue or the beige?

Too much?

“Yeah, probably.

“What about study materials? You know my motto, “Why actually do something when you can put it off by reading about it?”

“Too much?“

“Yeah, probably.“

***

I started tai chi about a year ago. We meet in the the back room of the dojo where the lighting is dim, the HVAC can be a tad light on the H, and where a poster of Chuck Norris in his pre Walker-Texas-Ranger days greets you as you enter.

The class size ranges from three to…oh, I don’t know…maybe four. We are a clandestine wing of Rock Steady. There is Peter and Jo and Eddie, the veterans who pioneered the class and have kindly taken me under their wing.

The fella on the left is our teacher, Bob Klein.

Bob is a kind, patient and soft spoken instructor…the opposite of Cue Ball Carr… who has studied tai chi for over thirty years.

Peter, Jo and Eddie have become my friends. We are learning what is known as the Yang style long form. It is a series of 102 movements. Each movement is precisely choreographed. Some invoke images like “White Crain Spreads Its Wings” or “Tiger Returns to Mountain” or “High Pat on Horse” or “Step Back and Repulse the Monkey.”‘

I’ve been away for a few weeks while battling old age shit other than Parky’s…what the docs affectionately refer to by the pleasant name “co-morbidities”…, but when last I was in class, I was studying Form No. 61.

***

“Cath? Have you seen my earbuds?”

When I practice in the back yard, I listen to the soundtracks to The Karate Kid …you know, the haunting pipe music when Danial-San peers down the beach and sees Mr. Myagi standing on one foot atop an old pier… or to The Last Samurai, when Tom Cruise walks through the cherry blossoms contemplating the meaning of life before he goes off and kicks ass.

I’m not very good. I don’t bend my knees enough, my kicks are short lived and spastic, and when a movement calls for one or the other foot to land softly on the mat, mine tend to land with a loud thunk.

Bob says I need to work on my thunks. Thunks are apparently not what we’re after in Tai Chi.

Quick word of advice to aspiring students following in my thunks…Before you can study Tai chi movements, you must first learn to stand and then how to walk. Neither is easy.

Here is a cheat sheet for how to stand. See what I mean?

And here is a cheat sheet for how to walk.

I could spend an hour a day for the next six months and not master the Tai Chi walk. It requires weighting and unweighting of your feet, balance, and fluid motion, all of which is damn near impossible on my size seven and a half super arched hammertoed neuropathy ridden feet with weight bearing surface areas of maybe four square inches per foot.

Care to try it? Check out this website. It’ll give you some idea.

http://www.everydaytaichi.org/tai-chi-walk.html

***

“Hey Cathy, did you see this piece in the New York Times last week? They should have interviewed me.”

“You know…’off the record.’ Maybe… ‘on background.’ I could have been one of those ‘inside sources’ you always read about who are ‘…granted immunity to talk freely for fear of retaliation.'”

“Says here tai chi walking will improve my ‘proprioception.'”

“Yeah, I don’t know what that is, either.”

“Wait…here’s another article.”

“Apparently ‘proprioception’ is the ‘sense of where you are in space.'”

Pro…pree…oh? Prop…I…Oh… Hell, I can’t pronounce it, but I gotta get me some of that.

My prioception is prehistoric. It sure isn’t pro level. It’s not even amateur level. I’m Daniel-san before Mr. Myagi teaches him to wax-on, wax-off, sand-the-floor, or paint-the-fence.

I don’t know where the hell I am and this damn Parky’s is my own personal “Show-no-mercy-Cobra Kai Johnny.” I can’t get my feet under me because the asshole in the black pajamas keeps sweeping my legs. I need Mr. Myagi to do that thing where he claps his hands together, rubs them vigorously like he was starting a fire, and lays his hot hands on me.

That’s what I need.

***

My favorite part of tai chi classes is when Coach Bob begins and ends with the “gōngshǒu lǐ.” That means “cupped hand greeting.” It is a salute, of sorts.

Here is a Powerpoint slide I made. (I know…it’s a compulsion; at last count my Tai Chi PP presentation now has 95 pages and is growing.) On the right is a description of how to do the salute. On the left, what the salute means.

The salute is the sun and the moon. The Ying and the Yang. It says, “Yes, I will fight when I must, but I choose respect and control, modesty and humility, refinement and nobility.”

I like that.

Bruce Lee knew tai chi. He encouraged folks struggling with adversity to…

“Be like water.”

Empty your mind of fear and rigidity. Keep moving. Be formless. Be shapeless. Adapt as water does to the container. Yield, shift your weight, balance. Find, as water does, its own level.

When you can’t seem to find yourself, when fear bears down like a dark sleeper wave, and all seems too much to bear, remember Bruce…Lee, not Wallace…and the fear litany from one of my favorite books, Frank Herbert’s Dune…

I will face my fear.
I will permit it to pass over me and through me.
And when it has gone past, I will turn the inner eye to see its path.
Where the fear has gone there will be nothing.
Only I will remain.”