Pleasant Surprise

By virtue of living in LA, I'm often asked, "So, seen any celebrities out there?" My first reply is "Only every time I look in the mirror!" but after the asking party has calmed down from his hysterical laughter, I brag that celebrity sightings are for amatures. I have done much, much better. And like almost everything else, I owe it to martial arts.

Martial arts is my job and my hobby: teaching at the Karate school and training at a school that teaches Krav Maga. Krav Maga is a fine martial art, and it's gotten a lot of media attention out here, so besides the hundreds of members, there are a lot of celebrities who have done Krav Maga, either at the training center or privately, for upcoming movies etc. A few months ago I was in class, and a new guy walked in. He was about my height, black, little goatee, and very familiar looking. He looked an awful lot like Harold Perrineau, whom you may know as Michael from LOST, or Mercutio from the more recent Romeo and Juliet, or even Link from the second and third Matrix movies.

Damn that guy looks a lot like Michael from LOST, I thought. If only I could confirm his name is Harold. Fortunately I had a plan: we do a lot of partner drills, so I'd just start working with him, introduce myself, he'd give me his name, and I'd know.

That class I never got to work with him, so the mystery went unsolved. Next week, however, he came to class again, and this time I made sure to work with him on a drill. I stuck out my hand and said, "Kenny."

He shook it - the moment of truth approached! - and said, "Harold."

"Damn right you are!" I did not say.

Harold turned out to be pretty cool. His wife was in the class as well, in fact I think she had started before he had, so maybe that's how he got into it. Lucky I hadn't hit on her yet.

The Karate school I work at is an all kids program. There are four separate schools in the company, one in LA and three in the Valley. We're kind of an upscale Karate school, which I didn't even know was possible. I'd always thought Karate schools were rickety one room affairs that always looked a good kick away from falling down, and then I get hired at this place that's like the Saks Fifth Avenue of martial arts. So we're ritzy, and as such, we attract a certain number of celebrity parents. I won't reveal any identities, but suffice it to say that some of the moms we get in are jaw-droppingly gorgeous. There is one woman, the girlfriend of a definite celebrity, who is without a doubt the hottest girl I've ever seen in my life. That is not hyperbole. It's like if I went to China and said, "That is without a doubt the longest wall I have ever seen in my life." She's the Great Wall of Hottness.

We have writers, producers, directors and actors, but there is only one celebrity attached to the school whose identity I plan to reveal. He's someone with a martial arts background, and the first time I met him was during weekly staff training. He's not part of the staff, just a friend of my boss. He's someone very likely to appear on VH1's I Love the 80s. His most known role was as a Harley-riding rogue bounty hunter with long flowing tresses. His surname is a homophone for plural humpless camels. His identity: Lorenzo Lamas.

That's right, I train with the RENEGADE.

And he seems like a pretty cool guy. Laid back, just interested in training. Just yesterday we were talking before class started, and somehow the topic veered towards fatherhood.

"Are you a father?" he asked.

I wasn't sure how to answer. I have to say, that's not a question I get a lot. "Do you seriously think you'd have a chance with a girl like me?" Sure, I get that all the time. I've got dozens of stock responses. However, when Lorenzo asked "are you a father?" my first thoughts were along the lines of, "How dumb do I look?" But I didn't want to be that sarcastic with the Renegade, since he has more children than many small villages. I finally settled on "No."

"You know, I was a father at 24," he said. "And when it happened, it was a pleasant surprise."

"Well, if it's a surprise for me," I said, "I certainly hope it's a pleasant one." Really I think the only surprise would be finding out how fast I could get my luggage packed. And this even with a radical lightening of my attitude towards children. Yet another thing I owe to martial arts, specifically this teaching job. I taught kids before, at home before I went to college, but they were a little older, and although I was good at teaching the technical aspects, I just didn't like children.

That doesn't mean that I though they were evil, or anything like that. But all the characteristics that people found cute in children just rubbed me the wrong way. Proponents of children would always say, "I just love how they're so innocent, and they always tell you what they're thinking." Great, so they're dumb and irritating. Bring 'em on over. I can't think of any two traits that scream "endearing" so much as ignorance and tactlessness. So my reaction to children, except in the narrow venue of teaching the karate, was revulsion. If I was in a social setting - dinner party with friends of my parents say - and a kid walked near me, it may as well have been a giant tarantula.

Everyone: "Aww, isn't he cute!"

Me: "Get that thing away from me."

If I'd ever been "surprised" with a kid, I would have probably denied his existence well into middle school. Him: "Daddy, can you help me with my algebra?" Me: "I could if I knew who you were, little buddy." Him: "Mommy! Daddy's ignoring me again!" Her: You bastard! Why can't you admit we have a son!" Me: "Who's this 'we' you keep talking about?"

Eventually I got a little older and wiser, though, I realized that, as with all things, the root of the problem was me. Kids would be kids; sure they were dumb, but the problem was my inability to relate to them. Just like a guy who writes off his romantic failings by saying "women are dumb," I was doing the same about kids. However, realizing the problem in oneself is the first step towards overcoming it, and I immediately set out solving my character failing by avoiding children whenever possible, including crossing to the other side of the street if necessary.

I could ignore it for a while, but eventually I began to regard my awkwardness with children as a huge stain on my personality. I envied severely my friends who could relate to little kids so well. When I got this job teaching, at a karate program that focused entirely on kids, I finally got the chance to learn.

Suffice it to say, I've learned a lot. My friends are shocked to hear me say things like, "I love my kids." I'm a little shocked to hear it was well, without replacing "my" with "to hit." About two months ago I realized that I'd achieved my goal of being "good" with kids. That's a milestone for me; a huge step on the road to manliness. And then a few days later I finally learned how to drive a stick, so that was a big week for me.

So I'm not averse to kids any more. I've come a long way from the days when I would recoil from a child like it was a three-and-a-half foot open wound. I don't adore them unconditionally, though. Anyone who says children are innocent is a damn fool. Children are not innocent. They are malicious, mal-intentioned little beasts. But they're alright. They're malleable. I still have no desire for a kid of my own, but at least now, if some future girlfriend or even (gulp!) wife one days says, "Kenny, I'm pregnant," I know I have the maturity and experience to not panic, not regard my life as over, but to look her in the eye and say:

"Who are you?"