I’ve been so busy in life, doing all the things I have to do for school, and donating so much of my time to pleasing others that I have forgotten a central aspect of my own developmental trajectory.
I LOVE MARTIAL ARTS MOVIES.
Those old, Saturday matinee, evening and night martial arts films. This is one of those things I can say for sure, “I got it from my mama!!” My mother, ever the ecletic woman when it came to hobbies, had more martial arts films than I do comic books and that my friends is LOT. Since I was 5, I remember watching Bruce Lee open a can of whoopass on bad guys. I saw all the Bruce Lee clones (Bruce Li, even the black version, Bruce Leroy!!!) My mother had movies with Jet Li, Jackie Chan, Bolo Yeung all these guys. It’s amazing.
I remember loving martial arts films to the extent that I bought a pair of nunchakus, although they seemed to have been lost some time before my first marriage. Whew.
This week has been so draining with school. I’m SOOOOO close and SOOOOO far away. After another late night, I wound up arriving home at 3:00 am, and after failing to go to sleep, wound up streaming “Game of Death” (my all time favorite Bruce Lee movie) and just remembering all these fight scenes I would watch with my mother. This among many ways is how I connect I think with her when I miss her, and I miss her every day. As I was watching Bruce Lee kick ass last night, it occurred to me from a developmental standpoint, this may in some way explain that old “yellow fever” that I’ve had since like 11 or 12 where I thought Asian women are so lovely, and continue to find them as such today. It all begins with my mother, who by the way just for the record had BIG crush I think on Bolo Yeung and Jet Li. Whenever, Bolo would get on screen she would always get really quiet and talk about how big and manly his muscles were.
Coincidentally, Daddy Orangemask didn’t seem to like the guy very much…
After watching so many of these as a kid, I remember once that I wanted to take martial arts classes. We didn’t have the money to do so, but I remember studying up on so many different types of fighting styles, and ultimately settling on wanting to learn Bojitsu. I had SO many dreams of things I wanted to do as a kid what happened to those?
Not that I’m the biggest Nicki Minaj fan, but even her video for “Your Love”, I remember watching several times. No, I didn’t watch it for her Anaconda despite what you might think. I liked the fighting in it. Even with Power Rangers, Ninja Turtles and the like, this Easter philosophies of mind and body and using this to defend oneself while staying healthy always appealed to me. So I can’t believe I’ve made absolutely NO PROGRESS towards doing that, especially when I’m looking for a new spark in my fitness routine (running is getting old, swimming was a big fat fail, and I seem to bore of weights…not the best combination).
As tired mentally, physically and emotionally as I’ve become lately, I felt so energized watching this scene and some of these old clips. I remember as a child when this part of “Game of Death” showed. My mother and I had pretty much memorized every line to it. After Bruce knocks Carl into the locker, my mother and I would prepare to say in unison those famous four words that EVERY Bruce Lee fan knows: “You Lose, Carl Miller.” You knew, you just knew, when you heard that music come on, and saw Bruce in his yellow jumpsuit, that was gonna be somebody’s ass. That suit was so iconic, that Quentin Tarentino used it in homage in Kill Bill.
These memories are so valuable to me. So cherished. My mother really put emphasis in spending time with us and encouraging us to appreciate the arts: movies, books, shows, etc. So in my time of weariness, I can return to those. I haven’t watched a martial arts film since probably the early 2000’s…when mama was still here in the physical. But last night… last night we watched our favorite film together. And today, I have this energy I can’t explain that will hopefully get me through another all nighter.
I love my mother. And 2015 will be a year of getting back to the roots of many of the things she taught me and gave me.