HUMORIST


OUT OF MY MIND - KARATE
© 2004 Jordan Margolis

When I was fourteen, my dad decided "with a personality like he's got, that kid had better learn self-defense." So he sent me off to study Karate. I soon learned Karate is not self-defense, but an art in which one sacrificed himself willingly in order to protect another person or a principle. I felt dejected upon hearing that my life wasn't worth defending.

What can you say about a fourteen year old boy that tried? There I was, a nice little Jewish "bubela" getting bullied, beaten, and bashed by full grown men. My first opponent was an adult who had spent three years at Harvard Medical School—in a bottle! Later I fought a man who had played a native in the movie "Planet of the Apes," but didn't need make-up. As I slowly moved up through the ranks, my belts got darker and darker, along with my arms, legs, and body. I barely survived one bruising tournament after another.

Bruises, aches, and pains could not rescue me. Even my mother's pleas to "take violin lessons like all nice Jewish boys" couldn't dissuade my father from sending me to gym regularly. Besides learning fighting techniques, one achieves respect for his fellow man—especially if he's bigger! Along with Rodney Dangerfield, I used to get no respect. After I had been in the gym for some time, I asked my instructor when I would have to go down to the police station and register my hands as lethal weapons. Mr. Sugiyama turned his head away and said, "If you don't gargle with Listerine, you'll have to register your mouth!"

Karate is a devotion well worth the time and self-discipline; for it makes the coward self-reliant, and the bully more sensitive in his dealings with others. Peace is a blessing only the strong may enjoy.

Sayonara.