WHEN WE THOUGHT WE WERE "COOL"

 

Looking back 50 years to my youth, I smile, then laugh at myself for thinking I was something special. Surely, I survived SEER training, combat weapon training, and firefighting school at the Marine Corps base. And yes I even passed the basic swimming course at the UDT SEAL base. I earned a Black Belt in Goju Ryu Karate in less than four years. I was a 23-year-old Vietnam veteran when I came home for the last time to claim my promised management position at the New China Club Restaurant. When I met the owner, Mr. Fong, in front of the restaurant, he casually dismissed me with an off-hand wave. I had even gone to school with his daughter, but my reunion and promotion vanished with a wave of his mighty hand! So cool! I stood there eating his dust instead of a combination plate! ("How quickly they forget their promises.)

Later, when I moved to San Diego, where my illustrious military training began, I started teaching local, disadvantaged youth the discipline and rigorous martial art of Goju! Of course, my students loved and revered me, and, thought I was "cool". However, The San Diego Police saw me as a Black Militant Threat, pulled me over, (on my ten-speed), and searched me every chance they could. (They "stole" my nunchucks from a bag that they could not have "seen" through, and proceeded to invite me to the Police Station "if" I wanted to reclaim my concealed weapon. I declined the invite.

The great, intelligent, and powerful Mr. Hatch, was my second combat instructor, (the first was "Bruce Tegner", through his famous books.) Mr. Hatch grew up on the mean streets of Philly, where self-defense was a prerequisite for boys who wanted to live long enough to become men. Mr. Hatch was the epitome of the word "Brother", and is the author of my nickname, "Brother Bru", (which was later shortened to "Bru"). He was strong, fast, and precise with his deadly martial arts techniques. Wise beyond his years, he was once asked by one of our students, "Who would win in a fight between you and Bru?" Hatch replied, "If Bru strikes and I do not block, he will hit me. If I strike and Bru does not Block, I will hit him." As flattered as I was by my sensei's response, I knew the real answer to that question but remained silent.

Mr. Kelly was a Brown Belt in the art of Goju, but a Black Belt in the art of Love! To say, "He's got game", was an understatement. For some unknown reason, women seemed to just melt into his arms and became helplessly and hopelessly "heels-over-head" infatuated with Mr. Kelly! The fact that he shared a name with a famous Black martial arts movie star seemed to be a non-factor in his "pull" abilities. Other brothers, (not me), were happy to scoop up his "rejects"! Only the best for Mr. Kelly! When he visited me in San Diego, after our honorable discharges, he bragged that he could put my tiny little house in the backyard of his Texas Ranch, and never even see it! Like I said, only the best for Mr. Kelly.

And then there was Wonder Boy! Mr. R. Starks and I shared a one-room apartment in Japan. We never locked our door because stray cats liked to visit us on cold winter nights to snuggle and purr! We had a tiny Japanese space heater that had absolutely no chance against the outside temperatures that crept into our little living space. So other than huddling under a thin comforter, which offered zero comfort, the best scenario was to accept the feminine comfort of the occasional neighborhood stray, that wandered in. These strays often left gifts at our door, when they were unable to crawl inside.  We also listened to "AL G" and MARVIN G" on the "Pie In The Sky HiFi" while entertaining our feline guests! No "Wonder" we liked this little Japanese town-of-port. Wonder Boy had to hang up his "P" card when he met his match, whose name also started with "P"!

The man who made four little words more famous than The Pledge of Allegiance, I give you Mr. Kirth! (They even screwed up his picture in the Cruise Book with the black spot on his teeth. Only Mr. Kirth!) When we hit our first port of call before our maiden tour to Vietnam, this young man went ashore with one simple goal in mind. Considering that High Schools in Wisconsin provided no intimate conquests for the dashing Mr. Kirth, he was reduced to losing his "V" card the old-fashioned way. When he returned to the ship the next morning, he blurted, "THAT STUFF WAS GOOD!