Perception is Everything
Declan Chellar November 29th, 2006
Two mornings a week I join a friend in the local park and we practise martial arts together. Our training ranges from Chinese breathing exercises (Qigong) during the first few minutes, to battering the hell out of each other’s arms and legs closer to eight a.m.
Over time, I have come to recognise different people who walk through the park of a morning and I’ve started to give them names: Cecil-the-Accountant (with his briefcase, wool overcoat, bad shoes and woolly hat), Two-Dogs-Brady (an old lady who has two dogs), Paperboy (who is a paperboy, even though he’s around fifty).
Of course, all these characters come along at specific times and each one only ever gets to see a particular aspect of our training. It occurred to me that each of them probably has a completely different view of what we do, and therefore of us.
Cecil always strides past on his way to work at around 7.05. It’s always 7.05, so I reckon he lives five minutes away and leaves the house at 7.00. Cecil only ever gets to see us practising Qigong and probably thinks we’re a pair of tree-hugging, yoghurt knitters. Hmmm… maybe on Friday I’ll actually start hugging a tree as he walks past.
Paperboy cycles past at about 7.20 when we are just practising kicks and punches. He probably thinks we just like throwing shapes and if you asked him what we were doing, he’d probably say “Tae Kwon Do” because to him, all martial arts are called Tae Kwon Do.
Two-Dogs-Brady (I just call her “Two-Dogs” when I’m in a more affectionate mood) walks by at around 7.45 with her two grumpy looking Miniature Schnauzers. I’ve never seen a dog with such a “What-the-fuck-are-you-looking-at?” expression on its face. I’m sure Mrs. Brady would be shocked to learn that her dogs swear like troopers. Anyway, Two-Dogs always goes by when we are whacking the crap out of each other and probably thinks we are a couple of thugs who are still drunk from the night before. I guess it doesn’t help that I wear a hoodie in the winter.
The police, on the other hand, get to see the whole thing, because we train right under a CCTV camera. I’d say by now there are a few self-proclaimed Kung Fu experts down at the station who reckon they have learned a thing or two on the morning shift.
Anyway, it occurred to me that if these characters really are pigeon-holing me based on the two-minute glimpse they get of me a couple of days a week, then perhaps I should broaden my view of them.
So I’ve decided that Cecil-the-Accuntant is only an accountant by day. By night he participates in illegal motorcycle races down back streets and docklands and dates gorgeous, identical twin sisters.
Paperboy is actually a multi-millionaire newspaper magnate who does a paper round each morning because his doctor told him to get more exercise.
Two-Dogs gets home from walking her grumpy dogs, makes herself a cooked breakfast, then settles down to her day-job as webmaster of a swingers website.
At the end of the day, we’re all just books with covers.
