I faced a flying oompa loompa tonight! Result - the toe next to my big toe really hurts. Ok, so he wasn't really a little man who churns chocolate but he did do this funky little routine like a good Mr. Wonka employee might do (without the catchy little jingle).
He was dressed all in white except for his black padded head, black pads(metal - I think) on his miniature hands, and black padded protectors (made of cement - I'm sure) on his elfin feet and that nice tight black belt wrapped twice (maybe three times) around his tiny little waist. There I stood, a bit of disbelief clouding my memory, would I remember my form - high block, low block....front...what? In lieu of this little man, my memory was betraying me. Despite my own protection - a padded red sweat producer that snugly fit on my head, red protection on my flimsy fists and red (Side Show Bob sized) feet protectors adorning my tiny feet, I felt exposed, vulnerable. There I was clothed in white with a white belt wrapped around my waste (only once) and the ineffective red 'armor' that flawlessly matched my red face, I felt like a fly in a spider web (the sticky sweat helped with this mental image).
We faced one another, bowed, shook hands and wished each other luck (like he needed it - pfft!) and then directly into fighting stance - YAA!
Like a flash of lighting this miniature man (ok so he was only about 9 or 10) came flying - full speed - across the mat, lunging about 12 feet (ok maybe only 3 or 4 feet - but that's still pretty high) off the floor at my head (more like my shoulder since I'm 5'1) and missed me by one miraculous block from my new best friend (my awesome left arm). Still, despite the block, in the face of this evil oompa, I cowered like the lion that Dorothy met while on her way to Oz.
A charming supportive (naive)fellow white belt shouted to me, "Embrace the tiger within!" What freaking tiger?!!! Where was he - where was he hiding??? Here kitty kitty kiWHAM! Ouch! I was so busy looking for that darn tiger (and I guess my new friend - my left arm - was busy looking too) cause that time young karate kid (I swear I heard our instructor call him Daniel-Son) - flying ninja boy, the amazing airborne oompa nailed me! Three points - that's match!
"Good game, mam."
(Breathless response)"Good game, sir."
Off I went to find that darn cowardly tiger to beat it with a Sshang Jeol Bong...and, just my luck, I stub my toe!
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So...are we talking Willy Wonka, martial arts, video games, baby sitting, wha-? I'm afraid none of those are in my wheelhouse, but, hey, that's what makes horseraces, as they used to say.
ReplyDeleteHa ha, well, I guess all my screws are not tight up in my head because when I'm living a moment that I find funny or revisiting it I often see it as a sort of crazy, bungled cartoon. No video game, actual physical occurrence - not baby sitting, was in karate class - lol but as for Willy Wonka....ya, I think he keeps a seasonal residence up in the right side of my brains somewhere - I try to visit...I knock and I knock... it's frustrating because he doesn't answer. (I'm not really crazy.) Your comment does worry me a bit though, I guess if you - as the reader - does not see through the chaos and understand the event behind it, perhaps I need to tighten the screws a bit and attempt to mellow out when I recap an experience?
ReplyDeleteJournal entries fall in the gray area between public and private, so a certain amount of screw-loosedness is understood as part of the deal. You don't want to find yourself explaining things to yourself that you understand perfectly well. Sometimes the reader should be expected to scramble along, panting a little to catch up. So I decided to read this as a sidelight into your personality more than as a piece I was going to figure out objectively.
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