On one level, this is a swipe/homage/ripoff/whatever of not only Marvel's Daredevil but the Simon and Kirby Sandman, the Golden Age Shield and other costumed lunatics err crimefighters who tackled gunmen with only their fists, But it was mostly written with Bruce Lee in mind. For the past few weeks, I've been reading tons of material on how much damage Lee did to himself. Not only the back injury for which he was on painkillers and for which he gave himself cortisone shots, but also the way he kept himself dehydrated to look better, had his underarm sweat glands removed, did a bunch of cocaine and hashish for years (as his letters to Bob Baker revealed*), trained like he wanted to torture himself, never got enough sleep and basically burned himself out. His last few months, his body was like a car with all the CHECK ENGINE warning lights flashing on the dashboard but he went ahead full blast anyway. In a better world, Lee listened to everyone around him, dialed his regimen back a notch and lived a few more years to finish GAME OF
( ... )
This seems like as good a cue as any to pass along an urban legend that I’ve encountered a grand total of once, and a bit of context is necessary.
When I was a kid, Mom used to make a wonderful pepper beef stir-fry; the basis was a Lowry’s powdered marinade (that has long since been discontinued), full of salt, tang, and umami. I loved the flavor so much that I’d snitch chunks of the raw meat from the marinating bowl; to dissuade me, Mom told me that Bruce Lee died of trichinosis contracted by eating raw meat.
The thing that continues to haunt me is that (A) I’ve never encountered this specific story before or since, and (B) I have no idea where Mom would’ve gotten it-she was intelligent but not particularly imaginative, and improvisational bullslinging wasn’t her style. Nor was she ever a martial arts fan; her media tastes ran to soap operas and mysteries
( ... )
Thanks for the personal backstory, I always enjoy details like that. It will always be a mystery where you mother got that. (Maybe she misheard something on the news or in a magazine article?) I have never heard the trichinosis explanation, but Lee did drink a lot of raw beef he had put through a blender. From all accounts, his last few months saw many weird changes in his habits (his ongoing weight loss and insomnia worried him enough to se a doctor about.)
And at this point, I am sated with reading about Bruce Lee and am delving waist-deep in biographies about another of my cinema obsessions, Boris Karloff. (I am having fun digging up his appearances on 1950s TV shows with Gale Storm or Rosemary Clooney.) So, I'm not saying we will have our Midnight War version of the Grinch, but you never know...
Oops-missed your birthday by a few hours; July 6th also happens to be Fried Chicken Day and International Kissing Day, so perhaps you got to enjoy some of those.
P.S. I’ve got a comment above including a link; it seems to have gotten spamblocked.
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When I was a kid, Mom used to make a wonderful pepper beef stir-fry; the basis was a Lowry’s powdered marinade (that has long since been discontinued), full of salt, tang, and umami. I loved the flavor so much that I’d snitch chunks of the raw meat from the marinating bowl; to dissuade me, Mom told me that Bruce Lee died of trichinosis contracted by eating raw meat.
The thing that continues to haunt me is that (A) I’ve never encountered this specific story before or since, and (B) I have no idea where Mom would’ve gotten it-she was intelligent but not particularly imaginative, and improvisational bullslinging wasn’t her style. Nor was she ever a martial arts fan; her media tastes ran to soap operas and mysteries ( ... )
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Thanks for the personal backstory, I always enjoy details like that. It will always be a mystery where you mother got that. (Maybe she misheard something on the news or in a magazine article?) I have never heard the trichinosis explanation, but Lee did drink a lot of raw beef he had put through a blender. From all accounts, his last few months saw many weird changes in his habits (his ongoing weight loss and insomnia worried him enough to se a doctor about.)
And at this point, I am sated with reading about Bruce Lee and am delving waist-deep in biographies about another of my cinema obsessions, Boris Karloff. (I am having fun digging up his appearances on 1950s TV shows with Gale Storm or Rosemary Clooney.) So, I'm not saying we will have our Midnight War version of the Grinch, but you never know...
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P.S. I’ve got a comment above including a link; it seems to have gotten spamblocked.
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Thank you. I'm pretty young... for a REDWOOD!
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