Daniel LaRuuso and Me

Now that the Tigers have clinched, and Zoey has gone to bed, that leaves Daniel LaRusso and me to face this quiet Saturday evening. June will almost certainly fall asleep in Zo's room. Daniel LaRusso and me? Why not? Sure, it's Karate Kid II, but there is that cool Peter Cetera song to consider, and of course, Tamlyn Tomita looked like a billion and a half dollars in 1986 (still does), so why wouldn't I settle in for a night of Okinawan scenery and some serious Pat Morita wisdom?

The film is going to be nearly forty years old by the time Zoey is 13 or 14. It's prequel, The Karate Kid, will be two years closer to 40, an astonishing 39 years old. How embarrassingly out of date will it be by then? Whatever sophomoric sweetness that resided inside those 113 minutes for the past twenty-five years will have long since faded into cheese, it may have even morphed into some sort of incomprehensible laugh track to her parents ancient childhood. Whatever it turns into, I'd hope that whatever it was that made movies like this mean something to us, helps them find a fraction of importance to her. There's nothing wrong about growing up with Daniel LaRusso. There are certainly worse ways to waste a Saturday night, and a childhood.