yo-yo #80: OLD filligree mandala

the other day, my good friend (and yo-yo superstar) jensen kimmett, showed me a video of a pair of bearded brothers from new york who run a chocolate business. now, i love chocolate, and it must be understood that they probably could have talked about anything... or even just hooted and grunted... and i still would have enjoyed the piece. however, jensen introduced the vid by suggesting that these guys are 'the CLYW of chocolate makers', so naturally i paid special attention to their approach to chocolate so as to discern his meaning. and i'm glad i did.

to save you from the need to watch the video (which i think you should, because it's neat)... the mast brothers don't just make as much chocolate as they can and get it into every big-box store possible. rather they take pride in making a little delicious and unique chocolate agonizingly slowly with care, they select the best cacao beans and painstakingly wrap the bars they make in thick, artfully decorated butcher paper. they're even planning a sailing trip across the atlantic to scout out new sources of the precious beans. the way they view chocolate is refreshing. they see it as a CRAFT; as a worthy expenditure of their time and energy... as a lifelong challenge.

it got me thinking about the make-up of our yo-yo world. i'm proud to be a yo-yoer for many reasons. however, i think that one of the most clear of these is the dedication to 'the craft'. we live in an age where 'craft' has become an anomaly. just a few generations ago, whatever devices upon which you relied upon, you needed to thoroughly understand so as to keep them working. the lakota on the prairie HAD to understand the crafts associated with turning a living, breathing bison into tools, shelter, and food... or else he had none. the 18th century blacksmith worked long hours over a sweltering furnace, handling rough tools from which most modern hands would shrink... not just to express his artistic spirit, but to provide for himself, his family, and his village. understanding one's craft was, until very recently, essential for any productive member of a society.

i think that, in this world of decadent convenience wherein we find ourselves, yo-yo players and makers feast upon our respective crafts, self-indulgent though they may be. you do not truly need to master a craft today to get along. in fact, devoid of incentive or clear reward, most people don't. you can spend your day in a cubicle selling policies you barely understand, pick up kfc on the drive home, fill your car up with gas that 'magically' pours from the pump, and fall asleep watching television in air-conditioned comfort... and society will tell you that you're 'doing well for yourself'. (consider, i don't intend to berate people who choose to live their lives in such a way - just to intimate that you don't need to 'do' or 'make' much today to be 'a success'.)

in part BECAUSE of this truth, we are entering into an age where one's craft holds a new and invigorating value. in a society where it's not 'necessary', taking something seriously and putting the full measure of one's energy to it reveals a quality of thoughtfulness and patience that can seem alarmingly outmoded. perhaps BECAUSE we have dissociated ourselves from 'where our things com from', well-made, hand-crafted objects are now enjoying a renaissance. selvedge denim, fitted wool caps, artisan beers, 'crafted' chocolate... it feels somehow edgy and rebellious to dedicate one's self to a craft. and in this age of brilliant machinery, it's exciting to handle a thing made with real, human care.

this example of the beloved no jive 3-in-1 is the 'filligree' mandala. though i don't have exact dates, it was made at some point in the 80's, features the standard 'take-apart' construction that was introduced by the model, and is probably the most stunningly engraved yo-yo i've ever seen (the more modern version of the same engraving hardly even looks like the same model). i prefer a yo-yo like this one because you can really see what went into it. this particular model is made of beautiful, aged hard rock maple. although beaten to a pulp by unforgiving years, it still spins beautifully, and the care, depth, and precision of the engraving makes it a true heirloom (to me). the hex nut has been overtightened a bit (something i know how to fix), and it could use some tuning. but then, so could we all. it certainly isn't a perfect throw. any genesis-armed teenager at a contest would probably scoff at this old woody's vibe following 'the fingernail test'. like any take apart wood yo-yo, you have to blend with it, find the sweet spot, accept its flaws (as you do your own). and like any fixed axle, it's not going to allow you the luxury of time in executing your tricks. you've got now - best to use it.

in a world that values function over form, it's an anomaly. but like the mast brothers' chocolate, this kind of yo-yo isn't necessarily meant to be 'a consistent' product. in fact, in some respects, it's meant to be the opposite, since the medium is inherently inconsistent. this, however, brings into relief its authenticity. this toy was turned back when tom ran the old san francisco workshop. he did it not for wealth or glory but for the simple love of the craft, and of yo-yoing. that truth alone makes a yo-yo like this a legitimate joy to play. when you care about a thing enough to inject your own meaning into your craft, you give something great and intangible to it; you soak it with an energy that does not dissipate with dings or chips or rotten days. i won't call it 'soul', which players love to attribute to their favorite throws... but it can make YOUR soul to want to burst from its shell while playing it.

though tom no longer makes new yo-yo's, we're truly blessed to be part of a micro-community that still brims with this attitude. a look at virtually all of the smaller manufacturers right now reveals a set of truly dedicated craftsmen, each ready and willing to put something of themselves into the beautiful toys they make for us. while not all hand-turned, the degree of attention put into planning, machining, and testing these yo-yo's will ensure that they're remembered as the heirlooms of tomorrow. support them and say thanks.

yo-yo #'s 74 & 75: sleep machines

in 1992, when the sleep machine was first launched by tom kuhn's small san fransisco yo-yo workshop, i was still a kid. i was a huge fan of the sf giants (and specifically of will clark, having collected over 300 of his baseball cards). it was a time when you could get away with wearing wind-pants (or worse, Zubas©) to school, when you had to wait until saturday morning for 'good' cartoons, and when toys still felt like toys.

the 2nd production ball bearing yo-yo, the sleep machine (and its imperial-shaped counterpart, the roller woody) was an anomaly from its conception. it's fascinating to consider the yo-yo landscape of that era. the silver bullet and sb-2 were the only aluminum models. with the exception of the yomega brain (and fireball?), there were no plastic transaxles to be had. it was an era when every good yo-yo player out there still relied on a wooden, fixed axle models, not to be stoic, but because they were the best tools available. even the sb-2 was perceived by the elite as a bizarre novelty and mediocre player (on account of its inconsistent looping ability and slippy response).

tom kuhn created the sleep machine and roller woody in order to bring performance 'guts' into a more acceptable wooden 'package'. while it features the same axle and [brilliant] gap adjustment tool as the sb-2, its maple body is extremely delicate and prone to cracking when overtightened. the bearing is tiny by comparison with today's models (which would have seemed ridiculously gargantuan 18 years ago), but amazingly, a stock sleep machine can handle pretty much anything you want to throw at it. they featured linen 'turbo discs', which were the first friction stickers, as the bearing necessitated some means to compensate with the lack of response (the yo-yo actually comes complete with instructions for double looping the string... pad printed on its inner walls!)

yesterday, i read a question posed to the boards that i've considered many times: 'are ball bearings cheating?'

this question has been debated so hotly over the years of internet-yoyo-blathering that i find it remarkable whenever i read it, as if we should have reached some consensus and moved on. some of the first posts on the oldest yo-yo forum, yoyoing.com/news, are dedicated to the argument that the only 'real' yo-yoing is fixed axle yo-yoing.

i no longer believe that (i did once), and i doubt the original participants do either. i learned trapeze on an old fixed axle (again, not because i was hardcore, but because it was all i had), and i remember at the time feeling as though the idea of going 'beyond' the technicality of that trick would have amounted to a pipe-dream with extra grandeur. the first time i threw a raider (see below), i easily doubled my longest sleeper ever. a few throws later i tried my hardest trick, braintwister, and i think i did about 8 revolutions (having never done more than 1), laughing with my head thrown back as though riding a convertible on the autobahn.

after those initial tricks, i felt a little dirty. i felt like i was playing contra, having already punched in the konami code. i knew i didn't 'deserve' a minute-long sleeper or the ability to pause 10 seconds just to 'admire' trapeze. these new-found powers had been paid for by technological ideas not-my-own... but the question of 'just how far can i take this?' is a seductive temptress... and it should be.

besides, who am i cheating? 90% of the time, when i'm yo-yoing, it's just me and the yo-yo. am i cheating the yo-yo? i don't think it cares, or at least, it's never spoken up. am i cheating myself? even if i grind harder than ever to push the range of what i can do with a bearing? can a person who works at yo-yoing for 8 hours a day be cheating, regardless of the materials they use? there's no one else to cheat. i've never really been a competitive player, and even if i were, from as far back as 1995 on, transaxle players were prevented from playing in the same division as fixed axle players. in the aforementioned conversation, kyle weems said 'cheating implies that you have an unfair advantage'... so if there's no implied advantage?

the question is not really whether or not ball bearings are 'cheating', but rather whether or not they are 'destructive'. certainly they have catalyzed a dramatic mutation in the way we approach our play. if you took your yo-yo back in time 40 years, it would probably be only vaguely understood as yo-yoing at all. if those changes are understood to be 'bad', then ball bearings have pulled us in a negative direction (or rather, we have allowed them to).

ball bearings have allowed yo-yoers to go from zero to sixty in an instant (both literally and figuratively). i read another post the other day, asking for how long people had played. inevitably, the responses (most of which betrayed obvious youth) were along the lines of 'eight months - i'm on master.' don't get me wrong - i appreciate the importance of BELIEVING yourself to be approaching mastery, and the tendency to do so while growing up. investing in such a belief, however, which ball bearing yo-yo's allow for... could be seen as a means of cheating oneself, and the inevitable let-down once one sheds the delusion can be devastating.

i think everyone has known some incorrigable, hey-kid-get-off-the-lawn curmudgeon who wants to regale you with stories of walking eight miles to school in the snow (uphill, both ways). they've read 'the greatest generation' 6 times (12, counting the audiobook), and they remember wistfully when america felt self-sufficient and a force for good, rather than a gradually-devolving series of strip malls and strip joints. those are the kinds of guys whom you'd expect to tell you that playing your ball bearing yo-yo makes you less of a man; that its complacent, benevolent technology allows you to 'get away' with shenanigans for which you 'deserve' to be whacked about the knuckles.

i buy part of that. i do. in some respects, i've become the 'get-off-the-lawn' guy... but only ever to myself (i hope), and i think that's the way it should be. i think you should be your harshest critic... and also your most fervent supporter. i wouldn't pay any mind to some snot-nosed kid betting me i can't hit 'trick x' on my no jive... but do i pay mind when I say it? you bet. likewise, i don't go around criticizing people for the way they play, because i expect them to do that for themselves.

i don't believe that yo-yoing is dying some overbloated, decadent death, drowning in the warm milky bliss that bearings offer. i don't think we've been seduced by the 'dark side' that some of us assumed the technology would come to represent. i'm not sure how anyone could watch john ando or guy wright and claim that we're headed in the wrong direction. yo-yoing is ever on the move, and it really always has been. it hit us 'old folks' hard when bearings became ubiquitous, because it was a technological lightning bolt that revealed all of our assumptions (and many of our treasured skills) to be outmoded in its instantaneous flash. the field of play was warped, and suddenly creativity was rewarded ahead of effort and persistence. collectively, we're still working out how to cope with that upheaval.

you can look at essentially every technological development in our history. the printing press, the automobile... the sham-wow. if you want to experience the joy of a quill tracing across paper, then a movable-type printing press is not cheating... it's ineffective; superfluous. if you want to hike the appalachian trail, you will not feel 'slow' for not being in a car. if you crave the tone of a martin acoustic, a stratocaster just will not do. the only dissonance enters when you don't fully understand what you intend or mean.

i play wood axle yo-yo's an awful lot, and sometimes people ask me why i'm on spyy. i should think it's obvious. dynamic as it is, every attempt to grasp yo-yoing and pin it down is doomed to fail. because it is linked to our creative human spirit, there will always be a new direction in which to go; a new technology to employ and explore. sometimes, i want to experience cotton and wood sliding against each other (a sensation the like of which i have found no where else). sometimes, i want the yo-yo and string to 'get out of the way', allowing me to explore obscure and complex ideas. each perspective informs the other. neither is wrong. neither is destructive. neither is cheating.

i've said it before - yoyoing is an art. and try though you might, you really can't cheat at art, for which the subversion of our most cleverly-devised rules is an inherent proclivity. you might succeed in conning yourself occasionally, but that is pathetic rather than shameful or devious. by all means though, break those rules which you perceive. TRY to cheat... you might just inspire the next great mutation.

yo-yo #64: laminated rd-1

my family and i were at target last week (or tar-jay, because we're high-fashion french-types). we were meandering through the toy section, idly discussing the bike that everyone knew we were planning to buy caitie for her 7th birthday. we had straight-up SOLD her bike at our yard sale the week before to an adorable 4 year-old, and cait had watched it go with a degree of nostalgic sadness. she could barely fit on the thing though; it was time for an upgrade.

i asked cait what she wanted besides the bicycle, and was surprised by her response: "a yo-yo... a nice one like yours". my daughter has never really paid any attention to my yo-yoing. sometimes she jokes that it's an embarrassment at the bus stop or imitates her mom in rolling her eyes when i play in the department store. lately though, she's asked to play quite a lot. she has several yo-yo's, most of them cheap party favors that she prizes not for their play, but for their depiction of favorite cartoon characters. i gave her a mosquito awhile back when she asked to learn the basics, and chris allen kindly sent her a yellow proyo awhile back, cause he's nice.

now, however, she was intimating that she wanted a "nice one". part of me fell into the mode of thinking that i experienced as a teacher whenever a kid asked me about buying an expensive yo-yo. "you don't need one. play what you've got, learn to love it and ask me again in a few years." the father in me though, was busy thinking "she's interested in what i'm interested in? seriously? where's my credit card??"

somewhere in between, it occurred to me that i really do have a lot of yo-yo's... probably an unhealthy amount. and lately, i only really play my no jives, my flying v's, and a few others with any regularity. it wouldn't make a whole lot of sense to buy a 7 year-old a brand new fancy yo-yo. i don't want her to feel tied to it; she's 7! at that age, one's hobbies should be as fluid as water. you feel like yo-yoing today? play your yo-yo. tomorrow you want to bury your yo-yo in the sandbox? knock yourself out. i'm not one of those parents that expects my kids to take their pastimes very seriously, but neither am i one to deny a birthday wish.

i decided to channel mr. miyagi, and asked her to choose. my wife suggested that i give her 3 options that i wouldn't mind losing, but i had other ideas. i don't like to be too attached to things, and when i get attached, i sometimes need to find a way to let go of the object(s) in question. i don't want to be the kind of person who would hesitate for an INSTANT if my kid asks me for something i can easily give them on their birthday. when my wife suggested i put limitations on what my daughter can have, my immediate reaction was "oh yeah, good idea". however, THAT VERY REACTION indicated a problem. that was really only my reaction because i'd be AFRAID that she'd pick one of my most prized toys. and THAT... is inherently lame; no getting around it.

to my daughter, all of the yo-yo's on the wall of the 'yo-yo room' are toys. as such, she has a much more accurate and unclouded understanding of them than i do. i equate them with 'value'; either monetary value or sentimental value. this is a problem, because my attachment to them obstructs my ability to see them for what they fundamentally are: playthings.

i gave my daughter an unlimited choice. from the 100's of yo-yo's in the room, which cost anywhere between $1 and around $450 (and several of which i would truly call 'priceless'), i said "pick any one you want". i did this for ME; not for her. i did this because the moment i said it, i was giving EVERY yo-yo in there to her. i was offering EVERY one up, and in so doing, i was severing the connections i had with each of them.

what if she picked the mg??? PICK the mg! TAKE IT. i'll set it up so it's tug-responsive and i'll smile when you do 'creeper' on the driveway. what if she picked an eric wolff??? PICK an eric wolff! i've enjoyed them all. and while i view them as high art, they play AWESOME... and i firmly believe that no yo-yo - NO yo-yo can 'do better' for itself than by being played and adored by a child. if it could talk, the yo-yo that shinya used to win worlds this year might say it's pretty happy... but i'd wager its joy would be NOTHING next to the one that any 4th grader uses to make his first loop-the-loop. and what if she picked "no jive #1"??? how could i give away my favorite yo-yo of all time? PICK #1!!! i'm always saying that playing that yo-yo taught me humility. i say it taught me that i don't need anything fancy to amaze myself, and that 'it's not the yo-yo that matters'... if i'm not prepared to give it to my kid, then i'm full of shit. and playing it hasn't taught me anything at all.

i think you need to be hard on yourself sometimes. i often make little challenges to myself and hold myself to them really strictly. some of them are relatively silly and easy like this, and others are harder. i don't want to be the kind of man who says one thing and does another. i'm truly more afraid of finding myself to be a hypocrite than anything else. some days i wonder if there's anything else to really be afraid of. guns and monsters and root canals... you can find the strength to face any kind of terror in this life. but looking at yourself honestly and recognizing your own hypocrisy? that's a whole different kind of scary.

caitie walked around the room a little bit, and then picked this yo-yo. a 2003 tom kuhn rd-1. made of purple, green, and blue laminated wood. it plays just fine. nice and smooth, not too heavy, and it responds well. this will be a good yo-yo for her to learn with, at whatever speed she wants. she's not really ready for a big gap, and i'm glad that she didn't choose one... but i'm glad for HER, and not for myself. i'm happy she picked the rd-1, because it was the one she liked, but i'm also happy because i passed the test i gave myself. it occurs to me that i'm relieved that i WASN'T relieved; that i could have handed any of those damn yo-yo's over to her with a smile. for a minute there, i was worried that it would be tough to do so, but i know better now.

happy birthday caitlyn. how time flies.

yo-yo #53: sb-2

i would like seth peterson to become a brazillionaire someday (meaning i would like him to own the nation of brazil, and all of its contents/resources). he's a motivated, young entrepreneurial-type. with a little luck, and a few more shirts sold at savedeth.com (which you should support), he could totally do it.

besides being one of the planet's most creative yo-yo players, seth's also just about the most generous person i know. actually, now that i think on it, those traits seem to correspond quite a lot. i'm not sure if a life spent playing yo-yo somehow imbues one with altruistic tendencies, or if i just tend to gravitate toward friendships with the really generous players because i happen to like them. it occurs to me that i came home from worlds this week with a bunch of new yo-yo's, none of which i actually purchased.

seth has been telling me about this one for awhile. i played a tom kuhn silver bullet 2 ONCE, in about 1998. the mall-cart where i used to hang out and salivate had one that was just for prospective buyers to play. i vividly remember thinking that it was superior to proyo's cold fusion in every respect but aesthetics. i wasn't one of the kids who always asked to play it, mostly because i knew i couldn't afford it back then. i bought a custom mag for about $40, and that, in itself, felt totally outlandish. the $100+ tag on the sb-2 made it seem like it belonged in neiman marcus, and although it can be found for cheaper now, i've always associated it with extravagance.

i collect tom kuhn yo-yo's, and when seth said he had one of these for me, i was pretty excited. i've always kind of put the sb-2 on a pedestal, and although i've wanted them, i've never really gone after them. the one he gave me on wednesday though, is a yo-yo i'm truly going to treasure. the sb-2 was the first production ball bearing yo-yo, and this one plays incredibly well; as smooth as plenty of today's most technologically advanced creations. the gap tool on it is truly brilliant, and it can be made to loop splendidly or dead unresponsive with just a few rotations of the spacers. it's pretty natural to go from the flying v to the sb-2, which for some odd reason, makes me feel kind of proud (though the sb-2 was never discussed as a source of inspiration for it).

the best part about it, though, is the patina (which, incidentally, is among my favorite words). i love yo-yo's that LOOK like they've been used; that LOOK like they've been loved. while a shiny new sb-2 would be "cool", this one is "beloved"... and like something out of "the velveteen rabbit" that love has made it "real". it's taken some beatings, but the aluminum, itself, is mostly intact. while areas on the hubs still sport a dull polish, the yo-yo has oxidized on the surfaces that the hand is most prone to touching, creating a kind of natural "enso". the rims, which are the most frequently handled, have darkened considerably, and now look like aluminum does when it is pulled from the ground.

though the yo-yo has lost its polish, it has gained proof-of-play. it bears the evidence of seth's considerable committment to yo-yoing, and that's much more valuable to me than a high lustre or ornate splash-ano. seth gave me a yo-yo, but he also gave me something of himself. like i said, seth's very giving, so i don't know if that was a big deal to him. but it certainly was to me.

so yeah, i'd like him to be a brazillionaire, but then... i also know that if all of brazil WAS his someday, he'd probably just smile and hand it back to red.

yo-yo #41: snowflake mandala

" You may become happily enlightened by playing with this excellent performer or just by contemplating its overlapping design."

that's from the product description on the tom kuhn site. how cheesy can you get, right? that's like... spraying easy-cheese (IS that cheese?) between two kraft singles and eating it with a brie fondue. i have this vision of some dude just zoning out and staring at the yo-yo and then yelling "EUREKA!" or something.

...

in all honesty though, i pretty much do that with this yo-yo. ok, i don't just stare at it and go into a cross-eyed trance or anything, but i do find myself just throwing sleepers with it. or a few loops. or milking a trapeze for the WHOLE spin and just watching it slide around on the string.

i think... that 'slide', that feeling of the yo-yo balanced on the string and swaying from side to side like a treetop in the breeze or something... that represents my whole reason for playing yo-yo. and being able to really, viscerally feel that with no complex mechanical barrier... is probably the whole reason i play wood. simplicity is addictive, i'm finding out. you know, i could give up every trick. every one. but that feeling... you can pry it from my cold, dead, stringburnt hands.

for obvious reasons, i only play this one in imperial. i can't "do as much" with it like that. can't hit spirit bomb (or maybe even cold fusion), but i haven't actually tried to either, and i'm not inclined to. a yo-yo like this kind of asks you to blend with it; to content yourself with its natural limitations. there's a time for pushing envelopes and a time for feeling the world-as-it-is.

get off the pedestal you've so desperately endeavored to occupy; it's a relief to "come down". don't worry about being important. you'll never be important. but you're already something much more; essential. if you yo-yo, then you're a caretaker of yo-yoing. you decide where it goes. and while it may seem necessary to ever strive forward, sharing your fire like some yo-yo prometheus... you also need to understand where you are right now... and what that fire really is... at its center. it's right there. don't just 'burn shit' with it. let it warm you.

i don't throw this yo-yo to "be awesome". i throw this one just to be... and that's... awesome.

yo-yo #40: tom kuhn "smo-bro"

"what is the fundamental truth of yo-yoing?"

i was assailed by that question today on a yo-yo board. sounds like "what's the sound of one hand clapping", right? it's actually a good question, i guess (at least more interesting than "should i get a dm or a m1?" or "where is the ywet?") and it was asked honestly enough. i know i get all "zen" on this blog (like in every effing post), but something about questions like that actually rub me the wrong way. sort of like if someone says to me "let me tell you about how much i love jesus." ... i have nothing against jesus, but when that kind of thing gets said, it almost invariably implies that i'm about to get "talked to"; as if i'm only there as a wall, off of which bouncy-balls of truth may be thrown. how do i play into your love of jesus? or truth? or yo-yoing (i'm asking sincerely)? it just feels too explicit; trust me to understand the mystery for myself, dude.

the thing is that the asking of the question "what is the fundamental truth?" implies that there IS one. any question implies the presence of an answer. here's an empty cup: please pour your secret-something-special into it. no... you know... i don't think i want to. not cause i don't like you, but i respect you enough to let you come to it on your own.

this yo-yo represents a longtime collaboration between the legendary "dr. yo", tom kuhn, and the equally legendary comedy duo, "the smothers brothers". when i first saw it, i thought it was ugly as all get out. i was bewildered (and still am a bit) as to why it had any serious collectors' value.

tom smothers was (and remains) an avid yo-yoer, and he incorporated the toy into the act throughout the 1970's. people over 50 frequently associate the toy first and foremost with smothers, and i've been asked a number of times by passers-by or folks waiting for coffee both whether i know him personally, and (even better) whether "i think i could beat him". i mean, what the hell? anyway, on television-when-it-was-still-called-television (and on any number of youtube vids), he can be seen doing simple tricks with a frivolously loose (almost inebriated) style, while his brother dick narrates. the performance of the tricks themselves (usually a few of the "10 basics") is secondary to the message/joke, that tom is able to enter "the state of yo", a kind of mystical, meditative trance wherein he is totally and viscerally connected to the yo-yo's energy, and so, is privy to secret levels of understanding.

although this is all done in pseudo-jest, in the post-psychedelic era of the smothers' success, the grain of truth is evident. tom is silly and ridiculous, but the audience is clearly meant to question whether playing with a little toy CAN enhance one's sense of the moment, of the world, or of "the truth". the early 80's trick-tutorial video with tom and dick accompanied by "legit" yo-yoer (and paddleballer, as it happens), daniel volk, continues to imply that playing yo-yo is somehow "meaningful". volk's really good, and you should watch that, irrespective of "the state of yo".

years later, neil feser's "the book of yo" (with introduction by smothers and forward by kuhn) surfaced as a much more sincere, in-depth description of the "state of yo". therein, feser alludes to "primary sources" by the ancient chinese master "yo tzu" to illuminate "the way" through yo-yoing. it's unbelievably self-indulgent, and frequently borders on the absurd, but there's actually a lot of good, substantial stuff in there, too. it's very difficult to read through it without running into something that causes you to question some aspect of your yo-yoing. feser makes allusions to the martial arts and ancient chinese allegories that are cute, if nothing else. all of the "yo tzu" stuff is "prose-poetry", with explanatory (and, imo, even more creative) mini-essays by feser interspersed throughout. if you enjoyed "the tao of pooh", you'll eat this right up (if you can find it).

to digress for a second... i'm gratified that there are people who read (and apparently enjoy) this blog. i can't imagine that i'd read one like it... i mean... some guy droning on about his life and his yo-yo's? you can keep it. part of me likes the idea that some people read it, but, no offense... you're not why i write it. i've said it several times, but i don't write this to convey any particle of "the truth" (as i see it) to anyone but myself. so there. you want REAL truth, go explore yourself. blog about it if you want. i might even read it (though i might not, if it reads like this tripe).

anyway, if you ARE reading this, it stands to reason that you must be a really serious yo-yo player. i mean really, i can't believe it's remotely interesting for the uninitiated. so if you're a yo-yo player... why the hell are you doing it? why are you yo-yoing?

before you jump down to the comment box to tell me all about it though, please understand that i don't actually give a crap. at all. even a small one. if you can answer that question, with words or without, then you know all about "the fundamental truth". and like snowflakes or casseroles, you'll never see two interpretations thereof that are fully alike. your truth is meaningless to me (again, no offense), and in fact, it may seem esoteric, egocentric, petty and obscene to anyone besides you.

i get it, you get it, and there isn't anything to say about it: "when you are deluded and full of doubt, even a thousand books of scripture are not enough. when you have realized understanding, even one word is too much."

the thing is, there is no "illuminating answer" that i or anyone could possibly provide to that question. the fundamental truth of yo-yoing is nothing more or less than the play itself, and that's the only place you're ever, ever going to find it. no blog will take you there. no book will explain it. no old youtube video of tom smothers, yuuki spencer, or nemo concepcion will ever show it to you. and yet, "the mystery" isn't mysterious in the least, and it's always available! go throw yo-yo, and do it sincerely (the real trick)... and you already understand.

yo-yo #20: the flying camel

i bought this yo-yo from the tom kuhn website a few years ago. obviously, it's just an ordinary maple no jive yo-yo, but this version comes in butterfly configuration and features a pretty intricate engraving on the sides. the legend is that while backpacking in the 70's, tom looked up and saw a cloud and thought it looked like a big camel... so he decided to put it on a yo-yo. i can totally believe that, [sorta] knowing tom. he's a very whimsical guy, and is pretty in tune with the outdoors. one time he emailed me a picture he took of a hawk and a blackbird with the sole caption "quit jivin' me, blackbird!"

a thread on yoyonation got me thinking about yoyoing "and the world" (as if they're two separate entities).

so much of yoyoing takes place in peoples rooms, or in tiny places. so many freestyles and videos are essentially compressed to fit into a miniscule, imaginary box. people regularly say that they don't like to yo-yo in public, for fear of embarrassment or persecution for such a "nerdy" pastime.

i find it kind of depressing, because to me, one of the most remarkable qualities of yoyoing is its inherent portability. growing up, i played piano. when i got a little older, the lure of a rock band (meaning an actual one, and not a video game) made me gravitate to the electric bass, followed by the big, honkin' upright. i always kind of wished that i played harmonica, pocket trumpet, or something comparably tiny, because i want to be able to make art and express myself on a whim, and in any situation. if i'm in line at the grocery store, or in the forest, i can take out a yo-yo, and just "dial in". for some people, it seems like a tool used to distance one's self from others; something i do in my room that no one can touch or interfere with. for me, yoyoing is one more art i can use to interact with the larger world.

i took this yo-yo to the beach around this time last winter. i love nature, and the outdoors, and playing wood just seems so natural and "right". i hesitate to use the word "organic", which has been sequestered by every supermarket trying to "go green", but there's something about playing wood that resonates well with being out under the sky. anyway, i'm also a surfer (though i've been less dedicated in recent years, i'm sad to say), and i got to thinking about the similarities and differences between playing yo-yo, and riding waves.

whether you've ever dropped in or not, surfing is fascinating because it involves the manipulation of a natural, primal energy source to propel you into what's essentially a controlled fall. i've never seen an activity more imbued with inherent grace. like yo-yoing, it's the simplest idea possible, which we've gradually refined and processed into a multifaceted and saleable "sport". (notice i didn't say "ruined", because i don't think it's in our power to do so to either.)

let's look at the respects in which surfing and yoyoing are similar:

• in surfing, the wave is the energy source, and it moves you and your board through space in the way that you want. in yoyoing, the roles are changed. YOU are the energy source, and you manipulate the toy in the way you want. though the differences are many, it's still just playing with finite energy. a wave only has so much juice before it dissipates on the shore. your throw only has so much juice before the force is dissipated by friction. maybe i like throwing wood because this is so much more palpable and obvious (in n.c., i'm used to short rides anyway).

• both occur in a similar time frame, and involve a similar breakdown of parts. yoyoing involves the throw, the trick, and the return. surfing breaks down to the paddle, the ride, and the kickout (or the glorious wipeout-beating that happens plenty, too).

• both are subject to fanatic, factious, tribal niches which generally perceive themselves to be more important to the greater world than they actually are. surfers and yoyoers are similar in their fierce devotion to their friends, and their general willingness to speak ill of their "enemies", as well as the uninitiated. a quick glance at any surfing or yoyoing forum proves as much.

although surfing and yoyoing are only similar in the most academic respects, the primary difference between them relates to "fear". when you're out there in the water (especially alone, or on a huge day), it can get scary. there are a thousand ways to kill yourself surfing in the ocean. i've been surprised by a half-dozen sharks sharing the same space in the lineup as me. i've been pulled from behind "over the falls" during hurricane swells. i've been faced with the terror of having no idea which direction is up while underwater. (and i'm only a relatively casual surfer on the east coast!). EVERY paddleout requires a bit of a gut-check.

in yoyoing, there's no immediate fear of death, and maybe there should be. who puts on the slipknot and wonders to themselves "will this be the last time?" who considers for a moment that they might pay for a "high risk" trick by eating a serious beatdown? yeah, i've got stringburn, and i've bonked myself on the head plenty with a yo-yo. i never fail to laugh though, when i read the myriad threads asking "how bad have you hurt yourself with a yo-yo?"

but we SHOULD yo-yo like that. we should LIVE like that. we should maintain within ourselves the ember of the understanding that every session and every throw may be our last. tomorrow is promised to no man. surfing causes its exponents to really value what they do because of the inherent danger, but even without the omnipresent risk of death, we should recognize that our lives are fragile, and that the pursuits to which we dedicate time and effort are truly worthwhile. our yoyoing should matter to us more than just a throwaway that we use to kill time. you can't "kill time", but you can surely waste it. this comparison with surfing (and so this yo-yo) reminds me to throw and live with a little more "intent".

though i live 100+ miles from the beach now, it's a beautiful day.
so, i'm picking up my camel, and taking it for a walk. ;)