Love Me You're Famous

Why can't we be friends?

2008-08-29T21:59:00.000-07:00

Submission from Natasha.

Dear Winnie Cooper,

When I was growing up I was only allowed to watch 30 minutes of television a day. We never chose Wonder Years. There was this awesome show on for a while called Mulligrubs about these big aliens that kind of looked like Grimace only green, and we often watched that. So you are like a total mystery to me, or possibly an enigma. I like your hair though. It's really long.

Also, I'm not gay or anything, so maybe we could just be friends? (You touch your friends in the pants too, right? Good).

So did you find Kevin Arnold as annoying as I did? Now that we're friends we should go find him and beat him up together. Wouldn't it be hilarious if he narrated it too?!... like, "Winnie and some killer-hot chick I've never met before are running at me with breeze blocks. Ow." Ha ha.

Anyway if you don't want to be friends or whatever then that's cool, maybe you could just shave your head and send me the hair? I could make it into a kick-arse wig and wear it around and stuff. That would be so awesome.

Love,
Natasha

Winnie Cooper 101.

2008-08-26T05:32:00.000-07:00

Submission from Ed

Dear Winnie,

After I spoke with my friend Nat about you the other day I got really excited about writing you a love letter. Then we both realised that we are not sure if you know or ever remember us. Worse, we were unsure if we really knew or remembered you.

So I have decided to make up a list of things about you that I know, things that I do not know and things I have recently learnt about you. I guess this is a little like a pro’s and con’s list for you to judge how well we might know each other and whether there is anything to build upon.

Things I know about you.

Your name is Gwendolyn “Winnie” Copper.

Your older brother died in Vietnam (sorry to bring this up).

You went to Robert. F. Kennedy Junior high School.

You had your first kiss with Kevin (and maybe your first shag).

You didn’t end up with Kevin.

Things I don’t know about you.

What you do for a living.

Your relationship status.

Your interests.

Your Hobbies.

Are you a Republican or Democrat.

Your shoe size?

Your bra size (I assume A or a small B).

Things I have recently learnt about you.

You studied Art history in Paris.

A girl that looks remarkably like you graduated with a Math degree (honours) and is a published author.

The website http://www.winnie-cooper.com/ has nothing to do with you whatsoever.

Nat went to school with a girl called Karen Cooper that looked similar to you.

Perhaps if you wrote a similar list about me and we could compare. I am excited about the prospect of knowing more about you Winnie and the potential for us to be friends (and maybe more).

With love and anticipation,

Love Me...Winnie Cooper

2008-08-26T04:56:00.000-07:00

Alright lovers. It is time for the second installment of Love Me letters. This time it’s none other than Winnie Cooper from The Wonder Years. We all remember the quintessential girl-next door and her on-again off-again relationship with that unvarying butthead Kevin Arnold.

Again the letters should be directed to Winnie the character not Danica McKellar the actress. Though given how she looks like now and the fact that she has a bit of a brain on her (she is a published mathematician and author of High School Math text books) you will be forgiven if you write to her. Picture bellow - God may not exist but there are women...

Letters can be as long or short as you like but should emphasise your love for Winnie, be that in a fan way, loving admirer or a proposal for a loving life partnership. Be as personal as you like, as referential, heartfelt, sad, funny or all of the above. But let it come from the heart (extra points this time for those willing to convince Winnie of a three-way with themselves and Kevin, Paul Pfieffer or Becky Slater).

peace.
nat.

Goodbye Winnie Cooper

2008-08-26T04:23:00.000-07:00

Submission from Nat.

Winnie

I am not sure exactly what prompted me to write you or exactly what the purpose of this letter is. I don’t think it’s so much of a love letter as it is a confessional. Or maybe a goodbye?

I have thought about you a lot over the years. I am sure I am not alone in this. The characters and events throughout our childhood and teen years never really seem to leave our thoughts. It’s funny because we all like to say how the drama of childhood is, now in hindsight, insignificant. But it is the theatre of these events that we continue to relive for the rest of our lives.

The reality is, I know very little about you Winnie. And I don’t mean in the “do you ever REALLY KNOW somebody else” kind of way. I mean despite your looks, the look of you in knee-high-socks, sweater and sports-skirt for that cute attainable girl-next-door look and your relationship with Kevin I can’t recall too much else.

However, when I think of you Winnies I feel…this is harder than I thought. I feel warm when I think of you. Yes, warm. Vivid Warmness!

Then why do I (and so many other men of my age who grew up watching you) have such strong affections for someone who we have never really known?

I know you and Kevin did not end up together. I remember him saying that you wrote to each other every week for eight years after high school when you went away to Europe to study. He got married but you guys never let go, did you?

Perhaps that is where the answer lies. Why hang on to something, which in reality, will turn out to be nothing?

The things we invest so much in we are so afraid to let go of. Is that because we define ourselves by these things and without them we have no sense of self? Or is it more crass, where we never really want to admit we were ever wrong or misguided and continue to invest in such things even though, deep in our hearts, we know they are lost causes.

In this way, these childhood indulgences act as our anchors. They give us the steadying purpose to get to know ourselves, explore without danger and stray with the comfort we know who we are and where we belong. But like the sea, the world moves around us and we eventually find ourselves in uncharted waters and can’t recognise who or where we are and realise that the anchor is an illusion of safety and stability.

I think for me and Kevin and the countless of other boys out there, you were our anchor. You were someone to pin our affections to. Someone to aim our romantic thoughts of true love and “forever love” at. Winnie Cooper was the idea of that “one” relationship that will eventually be fulfilled and out love vindicated.

But that is not real anymore, is it? It was a fantasy that served its purpose. However, now, rather than acting as a lifeboat of security and safety through which I explore the world and other relationships, it has become a rock. The type of rock that doesn’t keep you grounded but sinks you below the surface, keeps you from soaring with joy and excitement from love, newness and possibilities. Kevin eventually let go of you and got married. Its time I went and found my very own “Winnie Cooper”.

I guess what I am trying to say is I am cutting anchor, Winnie. It was childhood and imagination and nothing more. I am sad to let you go and frightened about the future without Winnie Cooper as my compass in it. But I know I have no future with you in it.

Thanks for the memories.

Goodbye

Nat

Karate Kid II: Journey To Okinawa

2008-08-06T23:00:00.000-07:00

The much awaited submission from Mel. All is now right with the world.

Dear Daniel,

You were just a kid, weren’t you? You seemed so much older back then as I gazed up at the big screen, squirming on the cracked vinyl seats at Forest Hill (yet to bloom into a strangely lame Chase) cinema. I thought your main problem was your inability to recognise your own latent talents. It was your movie, the film saw in you what you didn’t yet see in yourself, and we never doubted you’d make it. You just needed to discover that you were the best around. The Karate Kid.

But now I realise how young and small you really were. Those Cobra Kai dudes were ridiculously large and beefy; you could hardly call them ‘kids’, yet you beat them anyway. It feels so wrong, so paedophilic, to caress your beardless, peachy face with my eyes. But love’s always a little twisted, isn’t it?

I’ve gotta say, I liked you best in Karate Kid II. (You were so whingey in Karate Kid III — and growing out of your Kidness.) I just want to digress a little here and say how glad I am that your movies never had lame subtitles like Karate Kid II: Journey To Okinawa. I don’t know that I can crush on someone whose movies have such pretentious titles.

Anyway. You took some time in Okinawa to start your journey towards Karate Manhood. This time there was blood on your face in the climactic showdown. WHY DID THOSE OKINAWANS JUST STAND THERE? I would have leapt across that lantern-filled gulf for you, Daniel – the water couldn’t have been more than a couple of feet deep. I wouldn’t have passed out cold from a single blow like that chick did. I wouldn’t have wimped out like her and toasted your victory over Okinawan brutality with a chaste, snuggly hug. I would have kissed you and tasted your blood.

Plus, ‘Glory Of Love’, the theme from that movie, was co-written by Peter Cetera. It was nominated for an Oscar, and rightly so. Yacht Rock and you — my two smooth loves in one glorious roll of celluloid.

Love,

Mel.

The Love Generator.

2008-08-03T08:04:00.000-07:00

Possibly the laziest submission from Adam (NYC) courtesy of a computer love letter generator at http://www.crazyhoroscopes.com/. Its Gold! Puts you humans to shame...

My dearest Daniel LaRusso,

I trust you are well my darling.

My dearest darling love. I really want you to know that I love you with all my heart.

What human being would not appreciate those fabulous brown eyes of yours which reminds me of the bark of a tree. (By bark I mean the outer coating and not a dog's bark. Just thought I'd clear that up)

I don't know if I've ever mentioned this, but I just can't just help but admire and love your gorgeous brown hair, which sometimes reminds me of a bird nest (only without the eggs and chicks)

You know how much we love going to the cinema together. I think its fantastic that we can share a movie together, although I sometimes have to laugh when you start snorting and laughing out loud every time someone says the word "bush" or "wood". Its also funny to watch you slurp your drink, chew your popcorn out loud, and talk through out the movie, annoying the rest of the movie go-ers in the process.

I can't remember if I've already told you this but I really do love your legs. Its such a turn on to look at and its one of the many reasons I love being with you my love. Sometimes I wish I could do nothing but stare at your legs all day, but I'm not sure that's a good idea my love, as people will probably think I'm some kind of nut case and I might get taken away by the men in white coats.

Anyhow my love, I must bring this letter to an end now. But I must tell you something. I've always wondered what you would look like in PVC underwear. I really think you would be the hottest thing on this planet in PVC underwear and you could easily overthrow any model out there! If you wear those for me, I promise to worship you and treat you like royalty (Just so long as you don't make me clean your toenails with a toothbrush! I draw the line there).

My love grows stronger with every beat of my heart!

With all my heart,

Simon

oxoxo

Karate Kid in Haikus

2008-07-22T22:18:00.000-07:00

Submission from Ed and Nat.

A boy has no dad

Desire and dreams aplenty

No friends to protect

Blond and popular

Impressionable young mind

Sensei pulls the strings

Elizabeth Shue.

Cheerleader and curly hair,

Captures Daniels heart

A fancy dress dance.

A shower costume hides him.

Old man fights Cobra's

A truce is now sought.

Cobra Sensei, no mercy.

Dan now left in peace.

Karate’s meaning

For your self-defense only

Miyagi Mantra

Household chores for Dan

Wisdom in Miyagis ways

Wax on and wax off.

Day of truth arrives

A stolen black belt is sought

Three points and you win

He’s the best around

No one's gonna keep him down.

Montage of the wins.

Bodybag called for.

The contents shall be Daniels.

Out of commission.

He has proven strength.

Doubts and regrets plague Dans mind.

Old man magic hands.

Bitter man says sweep.

Aryian youth will obey.

Daniel wails away.

Only one leg left,

The crane, one chance, no defense.

Blonde, broken nose. Blood.

Glory and respect

Is his, as will be the girl.

Miyagi content.

My Endless Love

2008-07-17T07:05:00.000-07:00

Submission from Genevieve.

My Darling Daniel,

You cannot know my name, but surely you recognise the beat of my heart, and the throb of my soul...? Our souls were split when first we were made, incomplete without one another, always restless, always longing for its other half. But I am here, and you have found me time and again.

Oh, the world, Miyagi in particular, believes that that fierce concentration that won you medal after medal, championship after championship, was a 'sell-out', that the competition was the beginning of your corruption. But I know better then he. We know better. Your energy, your thrust, your heaving breaths were all for me. They think you looked merely into a camera. Instead you looked into my heart. It beats for you, and you alone. Soon ours shall beat together.

I know that through the years you have seemingly betrayed our love time and again with woman after woman. The golden curls, the fall of straight black hair... But I have always known, as do you, that they are merely stand-ins for the passion, the endless love that is and shall soon be ours.

I watch the films again and again. I see your glistening slow-motion thighs, and press my hand between my thighs thinking only of the time when we shall be together making the kind of sweet sweet love that the world has never known before. Our shall be earth-shattering. Only together shall we create that kind of whirling passion, lips meeting, hands intertwined that transcends the boundaries of time and space.

Oh I know I mock the life in the suburbs, the 2.5 kids, the sunny endless days of the man of the house mowing the lawn beer in hand, while the woman stays inside and cooks dinner... But that is because they are sacred. They are ours. And you know I would not ask you for such a banality as a mown lawn when the prospect of the transcendent grace and spiritual commitment of your karate practice on that unmown verdant mass sends me into raptures again and again.

Oh Daniel. Oh my Daniel. Daniel Larusso. I would be so proud to be Mrs Larusso, all feminist principles aside. Because you could make me see beyond them. You alone could be my lord. And master. With you I have no enduring commitment to any name, any identity. For it shall be such few and short days till we meet, I know it. And that is all that matters. That is the event my whole life has been awaiting. As I know it has yours.

Overwhelmed with this passion, this unending spring, this fountain of joy and rapture, as the prospect of our life together grows near... I remain, ever and always yours, my sweetest love, my darling heart,

Genevieve

Second Life

2008-07-16T06:20:00.000-07:00

Submission from Christian.

Daniel.

I came across this website asking for love letters written to you. A strange concept I think you would agree. Why it exists, I have no idea.

It seemed pointless initially. Sometimes love even at its most intimate, can seem pointless. But declarations of love to a stranger, undelivered, to a character no less, not even a real person, seemed perhaps bordering on idiotic.

I planned on not giving it a second thought for obvious reasons. I don’t know you, you don’t know me…what am I saying? YOU ARE NOT EVEN REAL!

Then today. Today I came home. Nothing unusual about that I suppose. I happen to return to my apartment each night from the job that has been my job for 5 years.

Today something was different. Nothing tangible, nothing physical had changed but all of a sudden, this evening, my apartment didn’t feel…right. The rooms seemed cramped and claustrophobic. The Ikea furniture familiar, yet I could swear it wasn’t mine. My wardrobe, I owned it all but it didn’t feel mine.

This feeling of displacement made me feel anxious. I made a tea, which usually sooths me, and drank it. Nothing. I started looking around at the photographs I had hung on the walls. Family, friends, my girlfriend, they were all there but I could swear I had never met those people in my life.

Then I realised. My life wasn’t mine. Something happened to me so that I had lost my will to imagine myself in it. Lost the focus to will myself into it. Nothing had changed. I had not deliberately set out to perceive things differently. But I now felt like an intruder in the world that I had created.

Have you ever felt like that Daniel? Not a feeling of regret or loss or even sadness. Just the feeling, that this life is not yours.

I read an article in The Times the other day about trauma victims and how their relationships with their partners rarely survive beyond 12 months after the trauma. One woman, who was the lone survivor of a car crash that killed 3 others, left her husband of 4 years after getting out of hospital, where she had been recovering for the previous 2 months. She said, “I loved my husband and I enjoyed our life. But this just seemed like a second chance to have a second life. That I could reset the game back to zero and have two lives instead of one.”

Perhaps this is what I want. A second life. A do-over. What would be wrong about imagining my life with you in it? It doesn’t even have to be you, Daniel. In my new life I think I might be clever and charming. Maybe I will have a mistress and sneak around at nights to receive forbidden kisses. I will love my family and do charity work. People will think I am A GOOD MAN. I will think I am a good man. And it will be my life again. My second life.

Maybe I will see you in this world Daniel. We could have a drink and kick around old times when we lived past lives, your karate and my apartment. And we would laugh about how we once thought that those lives we had lived, those lives we had imagined for ourselves, were ever going to make us happy.

I think I would like that. And we would be friends.

Yours truly,

Christian

Montage of Love

2008-07-15T05:38:00.000-07:00

Submission from Natasha.

Dear Daniel (or whatever you real name is),

My friend Brendan said he liked it best in the montage scene when you got kicked in the head. Not me. I liked it when you did the arms in the air thing and the camera spins around and I got to see your butt. You have a really great butt. Well maybe not anymore, but I'm assuming that it's still good.

It was funny when you got kicked in the head though, but not as funny as when you thought you'd finished painting the fence, but then there was HEAPS more fence and you had to do it for ages. If you ever come to Melbourne we should hook up. I have a great sense of humour, and also I used to do karate when I was little so we have that in common too. Plus I have mad cans.

Love,
Natasha Ludowyk

P.S. Sometimes I like to put on 'You're The Best Around' and jump around my room punching the air. Then I think of you and me together and I go all quiet. Write soon!

Glory of Love

2008-07-15T05:32:00.000-07:00

Submission from Kate

Dear Daniel,

This, despite the appearance of being a stalking-like issue, is the first love letter I have ever written to a star. Admittedly, I have been through phases of longing for screen icons to appear in my world, convinced that if they just got to know me they would fall hopelessly in love with me and declare that their life is now complete. After all the money, parties, girls, cocaine, who would not find my country girl charms mixed with a healthy dose of big city cynicism an irresistible change of pace? The big-screen good-guy hero, like you, has always caught my attention. Aragorn, for example, has often danced across the stage of my fantasy world.

But before now, I have never committed my hero longing to paper. ‘Why me’ you ask? Because, Daniel Larrouso, you are the man who will fight for my honour. You’ll be the hero I’ve been dreaming of. And just like a knight in shining armour, from a long time ago, just in time you’ll save the day, and take me to your castle far away.

Misplaced longings,
Katie Lansell

Umm...like totally. lol.

2008-07-14T21:43:00.000-07:00

submission from Jake...

Hey Danny,

I'm like soooo nervous even writing this, cause like I am just imagining you sitting in your pad somewhere after one of your totally hot karate workouts reading my letter.. the hair on the back of my neck is like totally standing on end right now.

So anyway, like me and my friend Brydon were like trying to decide who should win the "hottest martial arts guy" competition and he seemed to think Stephen Segal should be the winner but I totally disagreed with him cause Stephen segal is like a million years old and has a wig and stuff. I recon Byron isn't the best judge anyway cause he SOO likes older men, and if you saw the guy that he went home with last weekend end you would be totally like EWWWW that guy was gross.

So anyway, I told Byron that I wouldn't tell his boyfriend about that time that he fooled around with that girl that was staying with him for the holidays (I think it was like his cousin, which I think is totally wrong and he should go to prison for that, but I think Byron would actually like prison cause he is really into those biker looking guys, but im totally not cause they have no idea about personal hygiene and really like who wants to walk around in an orange jumpsuit all day.. that's SOOO not my colour). So yeah we now he agrees that you are the winner and stuff .

So I am like having this party on Saturday night, it's a dress up party and I know that you like those parties and if you want you can totally wear that shower curtain cause I always said that was the best costume EVER! And its SUCH a totally RAD idea cause like if you don't want people to know who your making out with then you can be doing it in the middle of the dance floor and no one knows.. Its so obvious that you are not only hot but also REALY smart. And anyway if you like want to make out with me and stuff in the shower than you like totally can and I wont tell anyone, especially not that slut face of a girlfriend (I cant remember her name) you have. You are like totally too good for her skanky ass.

Did Mr Miagi ever touch you up? Cause there was a little Chinese guy that lived near me when I was a kid and he used to give me lollies and Twix bars and stuff when I went round to his house.. anyway I'm cool with that too so yeah.

So like give me a call on 0423 534 XXX if you wanna come to my party cause I recon you would really like it and stuff...

Seya hot stuff...

Rickey M.

Love Me...Daniel LaRusso

2008-07-14T03:21:00.000-07:00

The First installment of the blog will be letters to Daniel LaRusso of Karate Kid 1-3. Try to remember letters should be directed to Daniel LaRusso the character, not Ralph Macchio (I know this may be hard for some of you Macchio lovers out there who are fans of his work in The Outsiders and The Three Wishes of Billy Grier).

Letters can be as long or short as you like but should emphasise your love for Daniel, be that in a fan way, loving admirer or a proposal for a loving life partnership. Be as personal as you like, as referential, heartfelt, sad, funny or all of the above. But let it come from the heart (extra points for those willing to convince Danny of a three-way with themselves and Elizabeth Shue).

First 2 submissions are below from Brendan and myself. Check them out.

Email submissions to: lovemefamous@gmail.com
peace.
nat

I think I can still love, Danny.

2008-07-14T03:07:00.000-07:00

Submission from Brendan...

Hey Danny,

I feel kinda weird typing this out. I feel like I should be saying it to your face. It’s hard, you know? I’ve carried these words around with me for so long. And now that I have to type them out they probably won’t come out right anyway.

I’ve been in love before. I know you have too. We’ve both fallen, fallen hard, and we’ve both been hurt. We could both trace lines from the charm and the romance all the way to the anger and the hate. We both know what it feels like to have that trust, that intimacy, that impossible faith in another person, and to then have it ripped out of our hands. We’ve both spent nights laying in our beds alone, staring at the ceiling and wondering how the hell we could possibly feel this awful. And I know, Danny, that all this hurt, all this knowledge of the pain that love brings makes us older, cynical, more likely to brush off each encounter as inconsequential. But they’re not inconsequential, Danny. They mean something. I’m not quite sure what, but I’m certain they mean something.

I’m tired, Danny. Things haven’t been easy. I’ve lost so much over the past few years. Some days I can feel the loss in my chest, like glue setting around all the things I didn’t say and all the tears that don’t ever come. There’s a tightness there that seems to disappear when you’re around. And I guess that’s why I’m writing this now.

It’s been a long time since I’ve felt like this about someone. And, if I’m going to be honest, I’m a little surprised that I’m feeling this way about you. I mean, we barely know each other. We’ve spent a couple of hours together, tops. This seems foolish and adolescent. I mean, I’m twenty-nine now. I’m not supposed to be falling in love with someone after less than a day with them. But here we are. It’s been a long time since I’ve said it, and the words feel awkward in my mouth. But as I feel the syllables forming I know that it’s true: I do love Daniel Larusso.

But what happens when we’re no longer together? How long before the distance pulls us apart? I’ve had these fleeting affairs before. They always begin with the best of intentions. We get caught up in the excitement and make promises we can’t keep. The momentum drives us forward, but we’re hurtling towards an end that we can’t control. Eventually a couple of days pass before one of us calls. We don’t get so excited about the letters and the emails. And then we let that other person at the end of the bar buy us a drink. We fall apart so easily. And I’m not quite sure, Danny, that we can stop that from happening to us.

But Danny, I just don’t care. There’s just something about you that makes me feel like it will all be alright. I know this feeling can’t last forever, that someday we’ll be apart again. I know a time will come that I’ll look across at your side of the bed and you won’t be there, and I’ll feel your absence gape inside me like a wound. But Danny, with you I don’t care about the future. I want to be with you now, Danny. That’s all that matters.

I love you,

Brendan.

Rambling Scrambling Love...

2008-07-14T02:52:00.000-07:00

Submission from Nat...

Dear Daniel,

I didn’t want to start this letter with the, “Oh I just don’t know where to start...” cliché but sometimes its less of a cliché to embrace the cliché if you know what I mean.

My name is Nat. I am writing this letter to you because I think we could have a real genuine connection in life, if only we just gave it a chance. I feel like I know so much about you, yet there is still so much more I want to know. That’s more than an infatuation I think. It is perhaps not quite love (yet) but it is SOMETHING.

Like you, I was a child/teenage sporting prodigy. My sport was tennis. Although not a contact sport like Karate, the nature of the one-on-one dual in tennis, to me, always seemed to lend itself to the classic feeling of a gladiatorial battle between two opponents – each player attacking with an arsenal of well-rehearsed potential ‘winners’ and at the same time countering with strategic defence and mind games. I always thought it had strong similarities with boxing.

Off-the-bat, I guess, I should confess I am not gay. I know it’s a label, and these days its always about fluid sexuality, and I am not saying I haven’t dabbled, but when I picture myself growing old, drinking milky tea with my partner in the late afternoon watching the sunset develop, its with a woman. So I am not Gay. And I don’t think you are either. But I don’t think that’s totally insurmountable. Like love, I think you can learn to become attracted to someone. The touch of your lean body, your hair, your smell, you glistening thighs mid-crane kick. These can’t be too dissimilar to a woman’s. Being looked at with animal desire surely is as thrilling coming from a man as it is from a woman. So I don’t see this as such a problem.

The problem I do see for us is Mr. Miyagi. Let me just state, I like him a lot. And I am not one of those guys that needs to be the only important person in one’s life. But I need to be the MOST important. Is Mr. Miyagi still in your life? Does he still teach you life lessons through household chores? Would you need to ask his permission to date me? I don’t want to have to be constantly competing for your affections.

Or has your relationship with your mentor soured? I could see how this could happen. I agreed with Mr. Miyagi’s view of karate for “self-defence only” but Mr Miyagi was never a two-time All Valley champion. Do you feel like he held you back a little? Do you resent him preventing you from cashing in on your tournament fame? As they say, “you could have been a contender”. I too know what its like to have that Mentor-Protégé relation turn sour.

Like you I also started out my development by learning my sport from a book. I remember quite distinctly how Mr. Miyagi was very disparaging and amused that a book could teach such things as karate. My book was called Hitting Hot – by Ivan Lendl. I loved that book. Now I don’t normally believe our senses have memories separate from the mind but I can still feel the texture of that books bubbly rough hard cover, its dimensions, its worn edges and its eventual smell after too much handling by young, dirty, sweaty hands. I remember reading that book at nights in bed, studying the time series photographs of a Lendl open-stance forehand or a overhead smash with a young boys dreamy intensity, as if looking hard enough I could unlock the secrets of power and grace through some form of page-to-muscle osmosis.

It was not until I got a Professional Tennis coach that my raw ability was able to be converted into refined capability. My coach’s’ name was Brian Carr. I called him Brian. Some of his students called him coach. But never Mr. Carr. Why did you never call Mr. Miyagi Sensei? I can’t picture Mr. Miyagi being into the Organised Karate bullshit, with its rules and regulations. I remember him stealing a black belt for you at your first All Valley Karate Tournament. Did they ever strip your of you title for that?

Anyway, back to my soured mentor relationship. My coach, Brian, he let me down in a big way. I won’t go into the details but he wasn’t there for me when I needed him, and for a teenage boy to loose faith in one of the few things he believes, as you can imagine, it can be quite devastating. Perhaps this is the case with all Mentor type relationships. Can the respect and deference ever survive the growth and eventual maturity that must come with the progression of the protégé? I guess its like when you get to that age where you realise there is very little that your parents can teach you anymore. It’s quite a lonely feeling I think – to feel from hear on out you must fend for yourself.

What is your girl situation at the moment anyway? Last I remember you where with that clay sculpture girl. Is she still in the picture? (I totally bet you guys tried to re-enact the Ghost love-making scene!). It seems to me, though, you have a little bit of difficulty in making, or at least keeping, a commitment. Elizabeth Shue anybody? She dumped you, right? But why? And the Okinawan girl, who I thought was such a kind-hearted person. She went away to Dance school, yeah? You couldn’t have followed her? Sometimes love is worth changing for Daniel. I suppose that is what would concern me about us. When the chips are down, would you be prepared to put it all on the line? For me?

What else is in your life? I like to think you are running your own Karate Dojo. Teaching misguided youth discipline and life direction with lesson in karate and household chores.

Oh, a funny thing happened about 2 years ago, I slept with a girl who said her last ex-boyfriend, although Thai in heritage, looked a lot like you. She also said she thought you were totally sexy. She kept an autograph book of people that she had slept with – but instead of signing your name she would take your thumb print. She coloured my thumb with red ink and pushed flat on the page and made me print my name and the date underneath (I do remember looking at the other thumbs and thinking that mine was bigger than most).

I remember thinking at the time whether this was one of those feigned idiosyncrasies or neuroses to appear interesting, unique and, dare I say, quirky. But I guess that doesn’t matter now. I wonder what she thinks about when she looks back over her thumb print line up of sexual conquests. Perhaps she was trying to give meaning to events, that, in more macabre moments, might appear to have little – that by taking our prints she took something more from us than just an anecdote that experiences like this inevitably become. Frankly, I have no idea. Your guess would be as good as mine. The only other thing I do remember about her is she didn’t shave under her arms – which I think is so cute!

Do you still see the guys from Cobra Kai? Does Johnny still live in the area? I imagine that you guys have teamed up and are working together – reforming the chain of Cobra Kai Dojo’s (now called Cobra Miyagi) into a profitable karate franchise. On weeknights you and Johnny go out on the town to blow you “Dojo money”. Tight jeans, denim jackets with the Cobra Kai/Miyagi symbol on the back. On the prowl for hot single mothers that perhaps might remember the “LaRusso and Danny 1985 All Valley Karate Championship showdown.” You and Danny both pull. You take the ladies home to your pad. You and Danny have matching “dojo themed” bedrooms – floor mats, futon, mirrored walls, mounted Japanese scriptures and samurai swords with Japanese style sliding doors. In the morning, on your way to the bathroom, you pass Johnny in the hallway, both wearing your Cobra Kai karategi. A Hi-Fives ensues, as does a quite whispered chant, “Cobra Kai! Cobra Kai! Cobra Kai! I could definitely be part of this life!

Perhaps I haven’t sold myself to you enough. I don’t feel I really need to. I think someone as spiritual as you Danny would be able to recognise a corresponding vibration of the heart, even from the lifelessness of a letter. True love doesn’t need to explain itself or impress. But for the record I guess I should let you know a couple of things.

Firstly, I love violence but hate blood. So if after a sparring session with Johnny you are bloody and bruised, you had better clean yourself up before sliding into my bed.

I could also help you out with your business. I do that stuff for a living. You could focus on the teaching side and perhaps I could expand the franchise in Australia. I don’t normally like working for other people so perhaps we could create an equity share arrangement. What’s mine is yours, Daniel. I hope you feel the same. What are your feelings on pre-nups by the way?

Eating out at restaurants is one of my favourite things to do also. I don’t really ever remember seeing you eat before, so I hope that you are not one of those “eat to live” people. You probably have a strict training and dietary regime you need to stick to. Not sure I can handle that.

Other than that I am relatively easy going. I would never pressure you too change and would never impose my will on you. I like sleeping in on Sunday mornings and playful wrestling, which, perhaps, is something we could do together.

I hope to hear back from you Daniel. I think we could have a wonderful life together.

With love and affection,

Nat (your little karate man)

P.S. I have included a CD with this letter. It’s of the song “You’re the best around” – but it’s a karaoke version, with me signing lead vocals. I hope you like it.