By Diane Ako
In jujitsu, I frequently work out with a guy named Ross, who is just sort of an affable large-breed puppy of a fellow, with a little too much enthusiasm, whose speedometer goes from zero to 60 with no options in between. I like him.
Claus is a black belt and is now pressed into service some nights to teach class. He issues directions and then strolls around the mat overseeing the various partner workouts.
Ross and I often work on certain techniques specific to our belt color (brown). If we have issues with some of the techniques, we ask Claus for clarifiation. If Claus is nearby, Ross will look up at him to see if Claus approves of how we executed the art.
"I look for the nod. Then I can move on," said Ross.
I totally understand wanting the teacher's approval, but it also struck me as funny since this teacher is one I'm married to. I laughed.
"What's funny?" Ross asked.
"In the dojo, he's The Nodder. In my household, I'm The Nodder," I stated. If you could see me now, I'm giving you The Nod.