Wednesday, February 18, 2004

Walk On the Rice Paper, and Leave No Mark

AH! Oh my dear lord!

Must pre-order...Kung...Fu....

Especially that one where he gets bitten by the scorpion and he's having all those crazy visions and....oh, man. I can't wait.

I love Kung Fu. It was one of my favorite shows when I was a kid, and I don't care if David Carradine doesn't look particularly Asian. That show was really formative for me. It gave me a different view of things than the everyday, inspired my lasting enjoyment of martial arts and westerns both. And resulted in some truly incredible fake-fighting, the level of which is seldom witnessed outside the arena of professional wrestling.

I may have told this story before, but when I toiled away as a bagel shop worker under the steely gaze of Julio the Suicidal Bagel Shop Manager, I burned the holy hell out of my upper arms one day while carrying a tray of fresh bialies through a doorway. What happened was I had just taken the tray out of the gigantic, walk-in size oven and as I went through the doorway to the counter area, the tray caught on the doorframe, pushing it back into my biceps.

This hurt.

But in that moment of burning the crap out of my arms (I would have large repulsive blisters there for a couple of weeks), I saw myself as Kwai Chang Cain, lifting the steaming kettle, branding the dragons into his arms.

Somehow, it's not quite as street-credible when you're carrying bialies in the Capitola mall.


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