by Phillip “Pete”
Starr
The phrase “martial
arts master” seems to have a particular sort of image associated
with it. Many people immediately picture a white-haired, bearded,
wizened old recluse of some kind who spends at least half of his time
meditating on the mysteries of life and the other half practicing
ancient martial arts techniques that have been cloaked in secrecy for
several hundred years. The master is wise in all things; he is able
to provide sage advice in every aspect of life, including (but not
limited to) personal finances, marriage, virtually every facet
pertaining to physical and mental health (and, by the way, he is
perfectly capable of treating most illnesses and injuries via his
high level of knowledge and skill in ancient forms of Eastern medical
therapies), purchasing a home, preparing one's annual income tax
return, or even how to field dress a deer.
I can see some of
you smiling while others laugh openly. Those who laugh are probably
those old martial arts teachers who've actually had students approach
them with questions about such things. I have. All of them (that's
right; go back and look through the list). How to field dress a
deer?, you ask. You betcha. And many other equally bizarre subjects
about which I know absolutely nothing. Yes, I have practiced and
taught kung-fu for most of my life. I am also an acupuncturist and I
hold black belt grades in two forms of Japanese karate. I enjoy
practicing iaido, too. But my understanding of personal finances,
investing money, marriage and generally understanding women are right
up there with my knowledge about how to field dress a deer,
rebuilding a truck's engine, or treating schizophrenia. I have, by
the way, been asked about each item mentioned in this paragraph.
People will not be
easily dissuaded from the image of the wizened old master that they
hold firmly in their minds. A perfect example would be my dear
friend, Master Arthur Lee (dec.). Arthur was probably the world's
highest authority on the old Shaolin Fut-Ga system and his skill was
truly second to none. But you'd never guess that this kind,
well-dressed Chinese gentleman knew anything about the martial arts.
Slightly built, soft-spoken, and extremely polite at all times,
Arthur's demeanor never revealed his tremendous skill. He had worked
for Sears for many years and was always ready to laugh and share a
joke.
My kung-fu uncle,
Master Ming Lum (dec.), is another fine example. One of Henry
Okazaki's earliest jujutsu pupils in Hawaii, Master Lum was also very
highly skilled in Choy Li Fut. And he would certainly be one of the
last people anyone would suspect of being a master of a martial art.
He stood perhaps 5' 4” (on his tiptoes), had one prosthetic arm
(with a blunted hook instead of a hand), and smoked like a train.
And no matter what the weather or the event (such as festivals,
funerals, and weddings), Uncle Ming always wore a brightly colored
Hawaiian shirt. However, he was hailed as a renowned master by
virtually every martial arts teacher who ever met him.
Authentic masters
may well work as train conductors, plumbers, school teachers, or any
other profession. The real ones don't walk around with their chests
puffed out, proclaiming their accomplishments. They're ordinary
people except for one thing; they've walked a path that most people
will never see.
