Karate And Dangerous Toilet Roll Covers

The family and I went to see the 35th Anniversary of The Karate Kid on the big screen on Sunday and several realities hit me all at once:

The first thing that hit me was that The Karate Kid came out THIRTY-FIVE YEARS AGO. Like, one day I was a twelve year old watching Arnold from Happy Days teach karate to this little Italian kid and then I blinked and I was suddenly a forty-seven year old watching Arnold from Happy Days teach karate to this little Italian kid.

I’m sure there’s a Twilight Zone episode in there somewhere.

It’s weird how you can watch a movie on TV or on video with your kids and you don’t think much about it, but sitting in a dark theater and watching the movie on the big screen makes me remember where I was in my life at that point. When the movie came out, I was transitioning between seventh and eighth grade, we had just moved to a new house in what felt like to me at the time, the middle of the desert, and my brother had just come out of a seven or eight month stay at a psychiatric hospital for adolescents. 

To say it was a precarious and stressful time in my short life up to that point would be an understatement.

The movies were always an escape for me and that summer was no different. Watching an underdog triumph over bullies was just what I needed at that time, but I never considered that this movie would have such staying power. Thirty-five years later, I was a grown woman, sitting with my husband and youngest son watching the underdog triumph against the bullies again…and it made me feel just as good as it did when I was twelve. 

The second thing that hit me was that I am almost as old as Mr. Miyagi was in The Karate Kid. Pat Morita was fifty-two years old and I am forty-seven now. I mean, Ralph Macchio, who played Daniel in the movie, is now older than Mr. Miyagi.

I’m sure there’s a Twilight Zone episode in there somewhere.

Like how the hell did this actually happen? Middle age? Really???

And I’m not half as wise as Mr. Miyagi. I mean, my wisdom goes something like, “If you drink a Diet Coke with a Snickers bar, they cancel each other out” and “You don’t ever have to clean dropped food off the floor if you have a dog.” 

They aren’t going to be drawing my crap nuggets of wisdom in calligraphy on silk scrolls and hanging them in the Dojo, m’kay?

The third thing that hit me was the toilet paper cover in the restroom at the Cinemark.

Literally. It hit me in the head.

I go into the stall and sit down to do my business and they have one of those double toilet roll holders with the big plastic cover over it. From where I’m sitting, it’s to my right and the bottom of it is almost higher than eye level. It looks like this:

The way this big plastic toilet roll thingy with the cover on it works is that you are supposed to pull the paper out from the bottom opening. There’s no paper sticking out but I can see that there are two brand new ginormous rolls in it. 

So I start trying to pull paper out from the bottom…like you’re supposed to…but all I’m managing to do is spin this roll round and round like I’m some fucking contestant on The Price is Right. I expected Bob Barker or Drew Carey to jump out any minute and say, “Twenty-five cents. Spin again!”

Clearly some seventeen-year-old kid who got stuck with crapper duty genius changed out the rolls but didn’t bother to take the little sticky paper thingy that holds the roll together off of the roll. So I scratch around doing the toilet paper claw with my hand, trying to FEEL for the edge of the roll like I’m fucking trying to read War and Peace in Braille.

Shout out to my Uncle I, by the way, who DID learn how to read Braille, because I don’t have the fucking patience!

After finishing The Complete Works of Shakespeare in every damned bump on the roll, I FINALLY found that rough edge where the roll begins. It didn’t want to tear. 

As I struggled to tear the edge off the roll, that’s when it happened.

The freakin’ plastic cover on the toilet roll holder opened and fell foward, right onto the top of my head.

All I could think was, This is it! This is how I die…in a dirty bathroom stall, with my panties down, my hand shoved up into the slot of the toilet roll holder, mumbling deliriously about why didn’t I just read the Cliff’s Notes?

I’m sure there’s an American’s Funniest Home Videos in there somewhere.

Stay weird, my friends. Normal is boring!