My martial arts instructor got hitched at the weekend and, as one of the senior students at the academy, I was lucky enough to get an invite. The ceremony was very touching and the newly marrieds both looked fabulous. The whole day was great fun with lots of other senior belts from the academy present and we even had the Drifters to dance the night away to.
And dance we did – with the Missus throwing off ten years of reluctance and embarrassment and finally getting on a dancefloor with me. To actually dance with me! The Other Woman, who was also present and is well versed with my wife’s reluctance to dance with me, said I looked utterly stunned when she got on the dancefloor and we didn’t leave it for two hours.
The Other Woman Who Loves Other Women was also present and I met her very lovely other half. In fact it was a bit of an academy love-in with our Grand Master also making the trip from Chicago – and taking to the dancefloor with his wife and stealing the show with a very polished routine.
As he was over for the weekend the senior belts had a class with him in the morning and he was as impressive and inspiring as ever, bending his body into shapes that no 70-year-old man should be able to, correcting techniques here and encouraging there. And it was great for me because for the first time I actually realised I could do everything I was asked and I was actually getting quite competent.
Big mistake as I then started to relax and really enjoy matters and as the session neared its end I’d relaxed so much that I didn’t see a side kick head straight towards my nuts. Ouch! Fortunately my opponent pulled her kick as soon at it had made contact but it still bloody hurt. Fortunately I was having such a positive time that I was soon back up and running, if a little high voiced!
There’s a moral there. Somewhere…
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