These Boards Were Made For Breaking
Seven or more months ago, Bill told me that he wished he knew how to break boards. You know, like The Karate Kid. Bill sits through incredibly boring classes and fantasizes about breaking boards. Why? Here is Bill�s theory:
1. Breaking boards is about the coolest thing you will ever do in your life (IF you can do it at all).
2. If given the option between breaking boards and anything else, people will always pick breaking boards. For example, when getting ready to defend your master�s thesis, you might say, �Well, I could defend my thesis or we could BREAK SOME BOARDS!� According to Bill�s theory, people will jump out of their chairs, shake their fists excitedly, and yell happily, �Break boards! Break boards!�
3. Breaking boards, when taken to its extreme, should involve a large stage and lots of smoke machines. Maybe glitterpants.
This whole breaking boards business is really an offshoot of another one of Bill�s theories. The theory of orphanology. Have you ever noticed how there are shitloads of orphans in literature? Oliver Twist, Kim, you name it. No, really. He�s right. Start giving this some serious thought. And it doesn�t apply only to literature�there are orphans all over the freaking place. Little ORPHAN Annie. Moll Flanders (half-orphan). Damn near every character in Cider House Rules: orphans. Leonardo DiCaprio in Growing Pains (homeless adopted orphan). Tom Sawyer, Huckleberry Finn, James and the Giant Peach, Anne of Green Gables: orphan, orphan, orphan, orphan. Harry Potter? Orphan!
Now think about this: Do you actually know any orphans? Now you see why Bill Green is a genius. He�s onto something.
Anyway, Bill then decided that one of his life�s goals would be to start up an orphanage and teach orphans how to break boards. (�I could get you some parents OR we could break some boards!�) He�s going to travel with a huge entourage of board-breaking orphans and smoke machines. He�s going to do it for the orphans and the orphans are going to do it for self-esteem.
Now that you have the history, I�ll bring you back to the present. Bill just turned in his master�s thesis after locking himself into his apartment for a solid month. I just finished a weird semester and was already into summer classes. Bill calls me up and says that he needs my help with something. I drive him to Ace Hardware, where he purchases two large concrete blocks. We go to my house. Bill pulls out specially cut boards that have been painted with things like �thesis� for himself and �sugar� for my diabetic roommate.
And then, people, WE BREAK SOME BOARDS. Without training, without watching how the professionals do it, without large amounts of booze: we just break them. Okay, okay, we don�t break them. Bill breaks them. My roommate Lynn breaks them. Check out their utter success!
Identify the board as your enemy:
Break away:
And then, of course, go absolutely insane with glee.
But me? I hit the board as hard as I possibly can and nothing happens. Nothing but pain, that is. I hit it again. My hand screams. I continue to hit the board something like five times and I bruise my hand and wrist rather badly. I do not break the board. The board breaks me. Finally, Bill has to step in and break the board himself. So much for the board-breaking glory, people.
Now look at those pictures again. Do you see the excitement, the validation? Now think about my pathetic unbroken board and my sad, sad position. Imagine how hard it would be to turn my frown upside down after I heard that my friend who weighs all of 100 pounds was also a bonafide board breaker. What?
Finally, several days later, Bill took matters into his own hands. He gave me a lesson that went something like this:
Bill: Have you ever swung a baseball bat?
Me: No, not really.
Bill: Oh, because it�s just like that.
Me: Oh.
Bill: You have to throw all of your body weight up into your arm and don�t try to go through the board, just slam your hand down.
Me: How do you make your weight travel up your legs and into your arm?
Bill: Like this. [does board-breaking action]
Me: This? [trying to mimic the action]
Bill: No. Put your other foot forward. Try it again.
Me: Like this? [swiping the air with my hand and putting the opposite foot forward]
Bill: Yeah, sort of, but I don�t think you have to do that hopping thing.
And then, my friends, I BROKE THE GODDAMNED BOARD! I redeemed myself at the same time that Bill proved he could show orphans (or poor board breakers, at least) how it was done. And you know what? I felt instantly better about the amount of homework sitting on my desk. I felt powerful and happy and strong and, well, kick ass. And now, the employees at Ace Hardware are going to have to start watching us. We could get addicted to this. We could have to start pawning our schoolbooks for boards. It�s entirely possible. We�re THAT desperate for entertainment around here.
