My
Iranian Friend Houshang Memarzedeh
DIGG THIS
When my son
Matthew was growing up, my wife wanted me to teach him practical
things like carpentry and plumbing. But when I was a kid (my father
was an accountant), when a door jammed or the pipes were stopped
up, this wasn’t the sort of thing you did yourself. Instead, you
called a carpenter or a plumber. So, I knew nothing about these
skills and cared less. Frankly, they bored me.
Of course,
part of bringing up a child, a big part, is doing things with him.
To me it didn’t much matter what I did with Matthew, as long as
it was something. So, what skills did I have that might interest
him? Well, I played the violin, swam, and played handball. So I
tried to involve him in any of these activities. Music was an utter
failure; he took up the clarinet instead (My daughter Hannah and
I sometimes play duets; she plays the cello). I insisted that both
my kids learned to swim, just as a matter of safety, and they did,
but they were as interested in swimming as I was in carpentry and
plumbing. It is all I can do to get each of them to promise me they
will swim only once a year, just to ensure their safety.
Matthew
was interested in the martial arts. He first got involved in kickboxing.
I would watch from the sidelines. But, I quickly noticed that this
was a full contact sport. These kids were bashing each other in
the entire body, head included. I figured Matthew needed all the
IQ points he could get, and pulled him out of this forthwith, much
to his disappointment. What then? Well, karate was about as close
to kick boxing as I could determine, and the Shotokan School of
Karate emphasized kata (a ritualized dance featuring kicking and
punching) over kumite (actual combat), and when they did the latter,
at least at the Vancouver, B.C., Canada dojo we joined, actual hard
contact was specifically proscribed. You were supposed to just barely
touch your opponent with your fists or feet; anything more, and
you were disqualified from the tournaments.
Matthew
won several medals in kata events. This meant a finish in the top
three out of oh, 25 or so opponents or so. (Children were not allowed
to do freestyle kumite.) I, too, entered tournaments, but I would
invariably finish at the bottom of the pack. I tell you, I was pretty
bored by this entire experience 99% of the time, and terrified the
other 1%. How would you like to kick 500 times with one foot, and
then do it again with the other foot? Well, at least I’m to this
day pretty good at standing on one foot. Team kata was pretty; when
dozens of people were kicking and punching in unison, it was almost
like ballet. Nor was my experience of much value in most real world
events. My training mainly consisted of aiming (but only barely
touching) at people’s necks with the flat of my hand, and/or their
crotches with my foot. Well, who knows, maybe one day all this will
come in handy.
We met
several black-belt instructors in our years practicing karate (Matthew
and I both rose to brown belt status, one level below that illustrious
height), but none more impressive than Houshang Memarzedeh. This
will sound like an utter and complete contradiction in terms, but
Houshang was one of the gentlest men I have ever met. Yes, he was
a highly skilled karateka, but his emphasis was on the philosophical
aspects of the sport. Whenever I engaged in combat with him, I felt
utterly safe; he would never hurt me. He was also without any danger
from me; I never would have been able to lay a hand or foot on him,
even if I had wanted to, so superb was his defense. (Although the
teaching from him to me was all in one direction, I remember fondly
the one time I was able to "correct" him: his glasses
kept sliding down his face, and he would move them back up; I bought
him a rubber band contraption that kept this from occurring.)
He brought
his family to Canada to make a better life for them, but toward
the end of Matthew’s and my karate career went back to Iran. He
father had passed away, and he was now the head of his extended
Iranian family. He felt a deep pull back there.
Houshang
had two sons also engaged in our karate dojo. Omed, and Aptin (his
third son Arash was a baby at the time, too young for this sport).
Both were a bit younger than Matthew. My son is now 28, so this
would make Omed about 26 and Aptin perhaps 24 at present. I would
guess Arash’s present age at 18. Our families would sometimes get
together, and my daughter Hannah would play with one of his nieces,
who was about the same age as she. Omed and Aptin had similar personalities
to their dad, Houshang. Nice, nice, nice kids. I remember that at
one tournament the three of them, Matthew, Omed and Aptin, entered
the team kata event. This is sort of like simultaneous diving. Credit
goes not only for individual effort, but also for how synchronized
the team members are with each other. Before that event, the three
of them would regularly practice together. A beautiful sight to
behold. To my eyes, they were perfect. Houshang, however, had many
constructive criticisms for them.
 It
is entirely possible that in the next few months the U.S. and Iran
will be at war with one another. Let me put this in other words:
it is likely that the U.S., without a declaration of war against
Iran, will begin bombing the latter country. It is certainly not
within the realm of likelihood that Matthew will be called upon
to fight Omed, Aptin and Arash. This would be actual battle, not
the simulated non- or low-contact friendly sport of karate. And
yet, the thought keeps rising unbidden to me. I see Matthew and
these sweet gentle kids shooting at each other. The thought actually
sickens me. I am sure that Houshang would join me in the thought
that were this, horrors, ever to occur, it would be like brothers
aiming to kill each other.
 Wherever
you are now, Houshang, Omed, Aptin and Arash, I wish you peace.
And happiness. I hope you are all doing well, and will continue
to do so. Let not the craziness now engulfing the Middle East impinge
upon any of you. I wish George Bush would take up karate. Maybe
he would be able to sublimate some of his blood lust in that manner.
February
6, 2007
Dr.
Block [send him mail] is a
professor of economics at Loyola University New Orleans, and a senior
fellow of the Ludwig von Mises Institute. He is the author of Defending
the Undefendable.
Copyright
© 2007 LewRockwell.com
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