A long long time ago in a pasture far, far, away when I was a little lad, short, shy, and awkward, my mother told me(in her rough,abrasive, Georgian accent) "son, why don't ya go out there and make some friends for the love of god." With an incredulous look, I looked at her and said, "mother, I have a friend in God." Now, my mother is as religious as they come, however, she didn't want me to be a loner. In response, my aging mother embraced me and said, "we're going to get you involved in some activities"! Let's try karate! I said, ok!
I went to my first Karate instructional meet. I was 4 years old, and I stood roughly 3 feet tall. Everyone at the meet looked well kept, professional, and glad to be there. Me, actually I can't recall really how I felt, but I do remember thinking that a sumptuous Twix bar awaiting my young taste buds after the meet was a good enough reason to make a fool of myself. The instructor showed us a few basic moves, a few high kicks, and some other stuff. Whatever, I wasn't really into it, but I did my best, for I wanted to make my mother happy. Well.....I wanted the twix bar. So, out of a whim, I kicked sporadically in the air, while yelling "aya!!!" That's what the 3 Ninjas did, so I kept going while thinking of my favorite childhood movie. My instructor was however, quite livid and stridently yelled "Chase, what are you doing, quit that this instance!" My young, developing brain didn't take well to being punished, so, I started crying, and feeling distraught I yelled the first thing that came to my mind, "I just want to make friends!" Ashamed and a tad embarassed, my mother took me by the arm and dragged me out of the gym. That was the first and last time I took Karate.
The characters, names, and events in this blog are purely fictional. Any reference to real people is purely coinincidental.