19 June 2006

How to be a ninja.

1. Learn Chinese Kung- Fu.
2. Jump really high.
3. Hate power rangers.

“Nobody move!”

The masked man pulled out a gun and pointed at everyone on the bus. The Q41. “Nobody move… except for Mr. Bus driver, keep driving… nobody move, give me all your money. Put it in this big bag with the money sign on it.”
Someone screams.
“Shut- up! Or I’ll eat your brains!”
You stumble. You catch his eye. He grabs you. “If you people don’t hurry… I’ll shoot this girl.” You glance at the gun. There was a sticker on it. It says Made in Toys R’ Us. You take the risk. You grab his arm, twist it around, drop down on the floor, do a swing kick, grab his gun, he falls to the ground, you step on his chest, point the gun to his face, while everyone cheers and cops show up out of nowhere and arrest the masked fellow.

You are a phenomenon. A little kid saves a whole bus. All over the news, they ask you, why you were so brave. You say to them, “It’s quite simple really- I saw his gun was a fake-he was a fake- so I just use my skills to beat him.”

Sometimes you are a power ranger. Sometimes instead of a bus, you are on a spaceship.

Sure to others you may seem like a scrawny little four-eyed dweeb but you know you have it deep down inside you. Fighting powers. One day that will happen. Fame. Saving lives. You love to save lives. It’s your 2nd fave hobby.

“I want to be her.” You point to Trina, the yellow ranger. “Why do you want be her? They already got one of yous,” your mom says. You look at her confused. “You probably could have been though, you know your Dad was offered to be in a movie with Jackie Chan before he was famous in the states back when your Daddy was a teen.” “Why didn’t he take it?” “Maybe because he thought Jackie Chan was ugly? I don’t know.”

Your Dad opens a Kung- Fu school right next to your dance school and your music school. You go to it because there is nothing else to do on Saturday afternoons and you figure you can use some ninja practice. But you hate learning from your Dad; it’s like learning math from your Mom. Unbearable. And with other kids around? Embarrassing! Good thing they won’t be able to tell you’re Kang’s daughter.



It’s time for the daily meditation.
Sit Indian- style.
Close your eyes.
Face you palms against each other.
Clear your mind.
Clear your mind…. Clear….
Chocolate ice cream. Sweet sweet chocolate ice cream. You can’t wait to go home.

It’s your turn to kick the kicking pad your Da… Master… no that’s silly... your Dad is holding. He lowers the pad. What? C’mon Dad! Your daughter can kick higher than that. Your daughter can kick higher than Clumsy McGee over there. You definitely can.
You back up a little for a good running start.
You run.
You jump.
You kick.
Your leg misses the pad… you miss your dad’s arm all together.
You jump over it instead.
You almost fall.
But you land with grace.
You look at him with a small “I told you so” face.

You can’t tell if he’s ashamed of himself because he thought less of you or he’s ashamed of you because you decide to do things your way.

You figured out why he didn’t want to become a famous kung- fu fighting movie teen superstar.

3 Comments:

Blogger Anna said...

wait wait wait...what is your first fave hobby? I know mine is looking at old ninja photos of your dad.

8:36 PM, June 19, 2006  
Blogger DefinitiveDane said...

I think, without a doubt, your Dad could kick my Dad's ass.

10:57 AM, June 25, 2006  
Blogger DefinitiveDane said...

I think the curse goes... "May you live in interesting times." But I will take interesting for now, it's fun. Be careful what you wish for, though. :) Exciting can happen at the worst times.

11:16 AM, June 25, 2006  

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