Just a little sort of follow up to yesterday’s post…my friend Ralph called yesterday. He’d called me at work and got the message that I’d be out for the day, so he called here to see who was sick.
We talked about various things…and at some point he asked how the tournament went on Sunday. I gave him the highlights…and told him I wished I’d had the chance to see Calvin spar, but that I would go to the next one and see him in action then.
And Ralph started to tell me that he’d been to a karate tournament once…some friends of his have a son who’s been doing karate for some time…and Ralph went on to say that he "watched him (the kid) spa-ing…" and I interrupted him and demanded "what did you just say?" And Ralph, who has been my friend for an eternity, and suffers my interruptions and spelling corrections on a regular basis but still puts up with me, sensed a trap, so he said, hesitantly, and with a questioning lilt at the end "I watched him spa-ing?"
And I said "what, he had a mud bath and a massage? It’s sparring, not spa-ing!" and I proceeded, in my cruel, heartless way, to laugh hysterically for a long time while he tried to interrupt me. I couldn’t stop…visions of competitors in their white gis and different colored belts sitting there with cucumbers on their eyes and blue clay on their faces, while other teammates gave them pedicures and manicures and massaged their temples…I’m sure everyone would want to join such a club.
I blame it on his Maine hearing. Even though he doesn’t ALWAYS lapse into his down-east accent, I think he filters what he hears through that same accent, and as a result, well…spa-ing.
Sorry Ralph, but you knew I’d have to share this. That’s the chance you took when you dialed my phone number yesterday.