Kung Fu Dreams

If you know me or if you're a regular to this site, then by now you've figured out that I'm just not quite right. This won't do any to alleviate that feeling. I'll do my best to explain this one, although I'm not sure that I've figured it out for myself.

I had Kung Fu Dreams as a kid. They would shake me to my foundation, leave me questioning what the hell just happened, and occasionally, I still have them. What are Kung Fu dreams you ask? Allow me to provide you with some background.

First, when Fox hit the airwaves in the mid '80s in Dayton as WRGT, their programming was very limited. One show that quickly became a staple in my house was Kung Fu Theater. Two episodes, taped every Sunday from 2-6 am. Awesome graphic violence. Second, I had a lot of ear infections as a kid. These suck. When I slept, I could hear my pulse pounding in my ear as it was smashed against my head. Pow-pow, pow-pow, pow-pow. I often confused this sound with a gorilla, pounding it's chest, hunting me down (I know, don't ask). Lastly, our family had this huge, orange, old, four hundred pound chair in our living room. Though not the least bit comfortable, it was great for sleeping in; feet straight up, head smashed into the seat cushion.

Okay. Spend late Sunday morning watching Kung Fu Theater. Get tired from too much TV and the onset of an ear infection. Pass out in orange chair. In and out of rem-sleep with visions of Kung Fu ninjas chasing me with cymbals (the gorilla) and Punji sticks. Wake up. Punji sticks still in my ears (as the ear infection) and cymbals still banging in my head (as my pulse). Absolutely terrifying. I cannot recreate it and certainly cannot make this stuff up.