I loved The Karate Kid as a boy.
No, not this one:
I loved it so much I chose to see it on opening night over a Michael Jackson concert. The King of Pop was in town for one show, and My father asked what I wanted to do as my birthday present. And I chose Daniel LaRusso. I chose a four dollar movie over a once in a lifetime experience. Yes, I now realize I could’ve done both – gone to the concert and seen the film any other night – but I was that obsessed. Because in a time when men were told to look like this:
John G. Avildsen’s said heroes also looked like this:
And at the time, I looked like this:
So the movie gave me hope, it gave me confidence. I practiced “painting the fence” and “sanding the floor.” I even perfected the almighty “Crane Kick.”
I thought it made me invincible, because as said, “If do right, no can defense.”
And I believed him until I saw it on TV the other day.
Indefensible my ass!
He’s just going to kick you with the foot that’s on the ground. He even lets you know when he’s going to do it. As soon as he jumps up, drops the knee, the other foot’s coming up.
This guy could stop it.
I can’t tell you how hard this was to watch. It shattered my childhood, and I’ve dealt with the truth about Santa Claus, my parents getting a divorce and learning my mom hid her sexuality for forty-five years.
I should’ve just gone to the concert.