I have a vague memory of Papi taking me to a small dingy movie theater near our house to see king fu movies. Whether or not this is a real memory, I don't know (maybe I'll ask him this weekend) but I recall sitting in a theater and being introduced the amazingness that is/was Lee Jun-fan AKA Bruce Lee.
(I should also note that back in those days there was something called DOUBLE FEATURES, where you saw two films for the price of one. While at the movies with Papi to see Bruce Lee beat someone to a bloody pulp, I also had to sit through a horrible, nightmare-inducing film called "Motel Hell" that put me off jerky for the rest of my life. Rent it and you'll see why. Oh jesus I get the creeps just thinking about it!)
This little powerhouse of a man came on screen, kicked some ass and stole my little Dominican heart. Even now, as I try to write this post about someone with whom I totally fell in love, only to find that he had died before I was even born, I get a little misty-eyed.
The way he moved across the screen was not unlike a dance. Everything was choreographed to the tiniest detail and when put together it was all such a treat for my brain. I wanted to be that effortless in my movement. I wanted that power behind my fist.
I thank WPIX-11 and WWOR-9 for all the kung fu films they showed on the weekends (you know, while you all played tag in the park and I wasn't allowed outside?) and a special shout out to Papi who, unknowingly, introduced me to my first crush & a secret desire to be a fierce warrior, dancer and philosopher. Even in my most stressful moments, I try to remember Bruce's advice, and I promise I only exact the proper revenge when someone causes me to bleed my own blood!
Isn't/wasn't he just the dreamiest? His wife was so lucky...
*smooches...reminding myself to purchase Bruce's filmography*
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I used to have it on VHS, but YOU-KNOW-WHO got it in the divorce *side eye*
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