Getting My Black Belt
Life Lessons
09.11.2008
Was I practicing indigenous fighting methods? No. I spent two afternoons a week getting about 15 squirmy boys – and an occasional girl – uniformed in their “gi” (uniform) and delivered safely to the “dojo” and “Sensei” (karate school and teacher, respectively).
Soon enough, karate class turned into my very own Japanese lesson. Granted, I mostly learned phrases – “Thank you very much, teacher.” “See you next time.” “I will break you.” – but I’ve forgotten most of them. However, I did learn to count to 10 in Japanese, a skill I never knew would come in handy until about a decade later when I found myself writing Happy Meal commercials. One of the prizes? You guessed it: Kickin’ Karate characters. Knowing my numbers in Japanese became a super valuable skill, even if only for a short time. In fact, it even birthed a concept that the clients loved. Go figure.
Who knew I’d get a karate class education that would prove itself years later in my “real” career? The sensei, that’s who. Arigato, sensei. Arigato.
