I recently finished watching the last episode in Netflix series, Cobra Kai, with my children. A few episodes in I began pondering whether or not it was an age appropriate show, my youngest is 6, and what messages, if any, my kids were absorbing from watching. After some careful reflection, I realized, it’s a miracle we survived to adulthood after the horrible lessons conveyed in the original, 1985, Karate Kid. That’s without even mentioning the terrible decision making Daniel Son demonstrated in the sequels, up to and including accepting a death match invitation with a maniacal, honor obsessed, ninja who just kicked his ass two days before, over a girl he’d known for less than two weeks. You see what I’m getting at here. Let’s take a look at the horrible lessons the Karate Kid taught us.
The first lesson we learned from Daniel is “fighting solves your problems.” Hitting on a 1980’s Elizabeth Shue is understandable especially given the mixed signals she was sending. However, continuing to pursue a relationship with her after learning that what stood between him and getting his hand under that sweet sweater was a gang of violent, highly trained, ruffians with borderline personality disorders, who were willing to commit attempted murder to prevent old Daniel from reaching 1st base all but guaranteed violence would ensue. And boy did it. Following a couple dusts ups, school scrums and a vicious beat down, you’d think parents, the school or any other number of responsible adults might step in and mediate a sensible solution to this madness before someone ended up dead. But you’d be wrong. That’s shit is for pussies. There’s only one way to solve problems such as these in 1985 Southern California. That’s right! A winner take all, full contact, combat tournament wherein your and your rivals can settle once and for all who rules the “valley” with a trial by combat. Then finally after 2 hours of intense battles and literally trying to cripple a 17 year old kid, you’ll win the respect of your rivals and forget why you were pissed in the first place.
Secondly, we learned seeking help from a childless hoarder who trades favors for gifts is a far better option than relying on trained professional counselors or loved ones, when confronted with life threatening challenges. I know when I’m having problems with my career or relationships, I seek out the maintenance guy at work and see what he thinks. I mean who better to have as a wing man when taking on the junior SoCal Aryan Nation, than a 60 year old, alcoholic janitor, that may or may not be suffering from PTSD? Have an injury? No problem. The childless loaner, you just met will rub his hands together and commit borderline sexual assault in a dimly lit locker room, after asking your parent to step out. What could go wrong? How else could your sensei respond to a debilitating injury suffered at the hands of rioded up, Jr. Chuck Norris, hell bent on putting you in a wheel chair to win the respect of his peers and sociopathic karate instructor? Call the numerous medical professionals, no doubt, in attendance at the 1985 All Valley tournament? Okay…
After careful examination we’re all lucky we didn’t end up in a body bag. So let your kids watch Cobra Kai. Hell, let them watch Apocalypse Now. They can’t possibly learn any worse lessons than we learned from the Karate Kid.
