Wednesday, 3 August 2011


Summer 1986, Karate Kid II  was out. My first cinematic adventure could have been watching Ralph Macchio kicking blokes in the head and destroying ice with his bare hands. Instead, I was left with a crippling sadness and the sense that nothing would ever be the same again. Mummmy picked Bambi.
  I still remember the comforting whiff of fresh popcorn and the startlingly deafening 'Ba Ba Bas' of that Pearl & Dean ad. Soon, as I shovelled sweeties in my gob, charming, bright-eyed fluffy creatures, bounded through sun-kissed, flower-lined glens. And then...
A thunderous gunshot. Whoa.
"Mother...Where are you?"
Cue much disconsolate wailing.
"How about an ice-lolly?" came mum's desperate, placating offer.
No mummy. There will be no ice-lollies today. From now on, there is only darkness, psychological trauma and the harrowing inevitability of oblivion.
Expecting harmless, blissful Summer fun, I was now saddled with a haunting sense of my own fragile mortality and the knowledge that the ones we love can so easily be snatched away.
  Years later, I finally saw Karate Kid II on VHS. It was a bit naff. But at least no-one died.
Cheers, Mum.

"...For man with no forgiveness in heart, life worth punishment than death." - Mr Miyagi.

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