1985. Chinese Stars.

In 1985 there were still UHF tv stations that flew under the censor's radar. I think a few of them evolved into Fox and the WB while the rest just faded out. Channel 39 was the best. They showed Benny Hill and sweet action movies late at night. We had cable tv but only in the living room. I had a janky little black and white tv in my room with knobs. Channel 39 was the best because of Kung fu theater. Kung fu theater came on every Saturday afternoon. I played football every season of my life so I missed a lot of Saturday morning cartoons but Kung fu theater was always there. They showed the entire Bruce Lee catalog and all sorts of Shaolin imports. This ultimately prepared me to be a member of the Wu Tang Clan if I so chose. I loved any movie they would play involving kicking and swords, but my favorite jam was ninjas. I was obsessed with Sho Kosugi and all of the ninja themed movies he starred in. I'd taken karate for several years but that shit was boring in comparison. It was all katas and bowing and kicking people's hands. Never once did I get to shoot someone in the neck with a blowgun. And gi's were all white and barefoot, but ninjas dressed in black and had split toe boots. So I obviously wanted to be a ninja. There was no online shopping in 1985 so ninja supplies were hard to find and our parents were not going to buy them for us. Martial arts studios and shady Asian convenience stores were the only source and most would not sell a minor a butterfly knife. Behold the magic of the Chinese throwing star. They were considered ornamental so a ten year old could buy a razor sharp aerodynamic weapon. We would we're our stars like heels, terrorizing the neighborhood on our sweet bmx's. And if some little bitch tried to step to us, we'd pull out our Chinese stars. It was as close as I've ever gotten to pulling out a gun to handle a dispute. This kid I used to hang out with named Gibby had nunchucks. Gibby was badass.