Growing up, I took a few years of karate lessons. It was fun! Good exercise, and I enjoyed the challenge. I also met a great friend I've known for years in that class, but that's a story for another time. The story for THIS time involves a bo. Now, the term "bo" is Japanese for "staff." That means it's not English at all, in case you were wondering. But being Americans involved in a Japanese sport, we pretend we speak Japanese when we're kicking and punching and sweating and "AY!"-ing in our pretty white gis. It's the law. (Oh, and "gi" is the Japanese term for our nifty uniform. Just sayin'.)
It was a day like any other, except this time the instructor was on the other side of the room talking to someone while I was waiting in supreme boredom. He was taking FOREVER, and there was nothing to DO. I just had to WAIT there, still and patient. I'm not good at that now, and I was even worse then. I only want to be still when I'm tired, and I was nowhere near tired then. None of that would have been a problem, though, if I wasn't holding my bo.
My bo (which I still have, actually) is quite a bit taller than me. Slender, pale, light-weight, and pretty flexible, made of waxwood. It's PRETTY. As I was standing there, quiet and attentive like an obedient little student, I was possessed by this great idea. Well, it seemed great, then, anyway. I was going to see if I could place my bo on the floor and lean on it until I could lift my feet, fully supported by the bo. (Don't bother me with the laws of physics, people.)
I glanced around to see if anyone was looking, but the coast was clear. Game on! I HAD to try this. It might not work, but it's worth a try, right? What's the worst that could happen?
So I stuck my bo down on a particularly flat part of the floor and leaned against it heavily. It didn't budge. YAY! Then I lifted one foot. Nothing! Good so far... And then I lifted the other.
CRASH!
Yep. I fell. Bet ya didn't see that one coming. And not only did I fall, but I fell HARD. I landed flat on my back, sprawling ungracefully and facing the ceiling. Thankfully I had the presence of mind to keep from banging my head on the very, very hard floor during my surprise descent... But by the point I was fully aware of what had happened, everyone in class had heard the obnoxiously loud clatter of my treacherous bo as it hit the floor with me. Every single eye in the room was staring directly at me, boring into my very soooooul...
We all started laughing about the same time. My face quickly became quite red, partly from embarassment and partly because I was laughing so much. It was just really funny to me how stupid the whole thing was. It tickled me. I really ought to have known better, and there's nothing so humbling as making a fool of yourself in front of your peers. But the trick I've found is this: When somebody's laughing AT me, I join them, and then they're no longer laughing AT me; they're laughing WITH me, mwahaha! Life's no fun when I take myself too seriously, anyway... Not that I ever really could with incidents like that under my belt.
Mainly, though, I just try to avoid doing stupid things in public. It helps a lot.
