I owned the first of what would eventually become a series of martial arts studios back in 1983 and was wracking my brain trying to come up with some way to increase membership. I was 25 at the time.
I managed to get a nice slot in the big local mall at noon on a Saturday in December, ensuring my demo would be well attended.
I brought several of my students with me to show off their skills and to act as foils for my own tricks. Everything went well, even the self-defense demo where they gang-attacked me and left me "shattered" on the ground.
Then came the finale.
Four students surrounded me - three holding single 1" pine boards at various heights and one standing next to a small table-like structure containing 3-1" boards stacked on top of each other.
I had a blindfold placed over my eyes.
After a little dramatic build-up the stacked boards were doused with lighter fluid and set afire. I proceeded to break one board with a punch, one with an elbow and one with a jumping kick. That left the blazing stack.
Turning in that direction I paused for a moment, sensing the hush of the huge crowd that had by now gathered. Marshaling all of my internal energy I released a loud yell from my diaphragm and brought my right knife-hand down on the stack, knowing as I did so that I had never done it better. The boards shattered with a loud crack.
But there was no applause.
I froze in place, standing in a crouch and with my right arm hanging at my side, my ears questing for that expected (and to be truthful, desired) congratulatory roar of the crowd.
Nothing.
My ears having failed to pick up any clues, my other senses - with my eyes still covered, this meant mainly my sense of smell - kicked in. I smelled something, a familiar smell, one that I had encountered ... where? ... yes, yes, now I realized - it was the smell of burning hair I had sniffed when I accompanied my wife to the hairdressers.
Immediately upon solving this riddle another sense - the sense of touch - kicked in full volume.
My arm was on fire.
Turns out I had done the break perfectly but had neglected to withdraw my arm from the danger zone fast enough. As a result my arm hairs - and they are voluminous - as well as the sleeve of my uniform had caught on fire.
What followed, dear readers, was either horrifying or hilarious, depending upon your sense of humor. I fell to my knees and waved my arms in the air like I just didn't care, while a gradually increasing keening escaped my lips. like an angry cat being struck against a large set of windchimes.
After what seemed like an eternity one of my students - the one holding the fire extinguisher just in case - came forward and gave me a liberal dousing of dry chemical extinguisher. Only then did the crowd start a tentative applause, and as I stood up in the cloud of smoke like an apparition on Halloween, removed my blindfold and took a bow with my still-smoldering arm held stiffly at my side I decided I had enough students in my school for the time being.
