Mr. Parker! I Want My Black Ninja and I Want Him Now!

This weekend I got to relive a bit of my youth as "Enter the Ninja" was on TV. It was many a Saturday I would plaster my ass in the couch for a double dose of ninja action with "Enter the Ninja" and "Revenge of the Ninja." Back then those movies along with the television series "The Master" were the coolest things ever. Today, they are nostalgic pieces of ninja exploitation where my pleasure is unfortunately found in laughing at them rather than being in awe of them. Which is rather sad since these movies had a big impact on my youth. You see they inspired me to take up the way of the ninja myself. Once a month, I'’d go to the flea market with my aunt or grandmother and waste my allowance on Chinese throwing stars. My favorites were the all metal four point stars. I even had a little pouch to carry them in. Part of my extensive ninja training was throwing them against the house for target practice under the cover of night. In the morning I'd then use the oil paints my grandmother gave me to cover up the holes. Unfortunately, I was never able to get the correct shade and the dark splotches of paint only helped to accentuate the holes. After months of penny pinching, I was finally able to afford my most valued ninja weapon: a set of hide-a-chuck nunchakus. At first glance it looked like a simple metal pipe, but after two minutes of unscrewing them, I had a lethal set of nunchakus with which I could bruise myself often. I was so proud of them I even snuck them into school by strapping them to my leg, using a baseball injury as an excuse for the limp. Only the trusted few were allowed to gaze upon such a dangerous weapon. Word though spread around our little circle of friends, and I was able to start up a little black market in Bob Jones Junior High. I went by the codename "The Frog"”, and used my best friend at the time as my middle man. I would buy the Chinese stars for a buck and then my friend would sell them for $3. That's one heck of a mark-up, and I was rolling in the money. I could see how being an evil ninja could pay off so well. As a bonus, "“The Frog'’s"” real identity was becoming the hot topic at lunch time. Our enterprise though quickly ended as all criminal enterprises do. Someone got caught with them at school. Luckily, the perpetrator couldn'’t rat me out, because nobody knew I was "The Frog."” But the PA announcement of "“No more Japanese shooting stars will be brought to school!" was enough to scare off our clientele. Once again, I was left alone to pursue my ninja training. That is till the cute girl across the street mentioned it wasn'’t very cool, and I gave up my way of the ninja, because well...she was really, really cute. Now I"’m left with only a laughably bad movie to spark the reminiscing of my time as a ninja and wondering whatever happened to that really cute girl that lived across the street.