The Monkey on my back
The 70’s were awesome for martial arts. ‘nuff said about that ! I just learned to work the nunchakus from my Sensei, and I was all about twirling the things all the time……then I saw Bruce Lee.
I was in my Nunchaku craze, when my Aunt Mary took me and my 2 cousins to see "Return of the Dragon". She said she really wanted me to see that movie, because I would really like it. At first, I remember ok, she's in one of her nice modes, until I saw this guy handle the chucks...oh my ...I was drooling. This man has just validated all the crazy things my family thought I was about. It was like seeing a dream come true. My Aunt liked antagonizing her sister, and taking me to that movie did exactly what she thought it would...it took me over the edge. I now had a monkey on my back…
I really don’t remember whether I saw it somewhere, or I took it from one of the scenes from the movie, where he was making his own weapons, but all of the sudden, I started making my own chucks….all colors, materials and even textures. I had a pair for every occasion, one for school, or maybe two…one to go to the store, one for hanging out… yes, accessorizing was the name of the game!
I made a pouch for them, slipped them in my bag…..yes, I was styling. I had a pair when I felt benevolent, with some degree of padding, and then there was one day I was feeling like really putting the hurt on someone, and had spikes sticking out of one pair. I had a pair of metal ones, I had a pair of custom made octagon ones that was done by a local carpenter…outsourcing was needed when my limited skill was tasked.
Of course I used them! I was in NYC ! There was a constant flow and opportunity for field testing. All I had to do is head out the door and someone would always try to pull something funny on me. Other kids my age, and adults alike. By now my friends knew I took pleasure in defending myself, without any help. One of my friends at the time used to chat with me in my backyard while I practiced, often. One day I was really going for it, and she started cheering me on, “faster, faster!” and I let loose….all of the sudden, my hands felt lighter, and my friend hit the ground.
She had a very nasty gash on her head and was out cold. As I let out a blood-curling scream, and everyone and their mother showed up, I knew my chucks days were counted. My friend survived it, but I was not allowed to talk to her. My neighbors fingered me as a danger to their kids, and I was punished, for what it seemed to be an eternity. I had to endure a shakedown of all my belongings every other day to find any contraband chucks by my parents.
So I began hiding them.
Often, they would be found and immediately destroyed. I know this was a nightmare to them; but I was hooked…there was nothing I could do, but keep manufacturing these things. They tried everything.
One day, I was minding my own business when I was summoned to appear before the supreme tribunal = Mom, Dad, Grandma who was nursing a big knot on her head. I would be so prolific in my chuck building, I would often lose track of the stock. This time I was responsible for more than hiding them….I had taped a pair to a limb on the tree in the backyard. As Grandma tended to the garden, the tape lost the adhesion, fell and clunked her in the head….I hate coincidences sometimes.
Even as I left the nest, to go into life on my own, My mom was still finding them. I fought many battles with my trusty nunchucks, but always lost when it came to keeping them around my folks.