A teenaged boy tries to find the meaning of life through kung-foo, drugs and Chinese culture, while sharing astronomy and life lessons with his father.

At times funny, more often a serious exploration of a teenager’s search for meaning in the 1970s, I was entertained, but little more. As a teen, I would have been shaking my head and staying away from this guy and the people in his life. Some of his teachers were inspirational, which was good, because it meant when he went mildly bad (not in the same way as Michael or others he knew), he could find his way back. His kung foo master wasn’t anyone that I would want to study under, but was probably the only teacher in the area. As much as the man disgusted me, I have to admit that Mark learned some good lessons from him. His parents were solid rocks, but in true ‘70s style, sent him off without supervision or questions –I remember being told to “be back for supper”, too. It was neat that even though he was obsessed with whatever he was studying, whether it was kung fu, pot, music, Chinese culture or anything else, he could still be grounded by joining his father for astronomy. In short, the book was a rambling monolog of how a kid was raised in the 1970s, with the narrowness of vision that produces and the nearly invisible support systems. An interesting read.

After the intense read of my previous book, I was ready for something lighter, and this fit the bill. It treads deep into the psyche of a teenager in the 1970s, but much of it is told in a mildly humorous way. The book is about obsession, and how the teenaged mind processes it.

Mark obsesses with kung-fu as an early teen. I expect that the dialog is dramatized, as are many of the memories. Like anybody that age, he convinced his parents that he had to do kung-fu, even though the school was an hour away. His mom taught music, while his dad was a social worker. Before going to a dojo, Mark would watch Chinese movies and try to become a master himself, taking over the basement. His parents were remarkably tolerant of his obsession, but I suspect his actual takeover was exaggerated.

The biggest chunk of this book is about his kung-fu. His sensei O’Keefe was a drunk and a womanizer, and I wonder what was in his past that caused him to be that way. Regardless, I compare this with my own sensei, and wonder how he survived as long as he did. My experience was completely the opposite, so it’s hard to read about his very violent experience at the hands of the sensei and the other students. Eventually when sensei strangled his friend and started him breathing again, he left, finally of the age where he could be uncomfortable with what was being done and judge for it.

His friend Michael was a bully, but the way to gain respect in those neighborhoods was to become strong, and kung-fu did it for Mark. He was no longer bullied, and Michael became his best friend, but that ended when he quit kung-fu. Michael got into drugs and died one summer while Mark was in college.

Mark also got into a drug stage, abandoning kung-fu for other enlightenment. This part of the book was funny to read, as he learns all the wrong lessons from getting high. He even tries to grow his own pot amongst his parents indoor flowers, until his younger brother tattles on him. It’s often said that pot isn’t addictive, and that may be true from a medical point of view, but it’s clearly mentally addictive, as shown here. Fortunately, it was easy for him to quit with the support system around him, as he got around the need to be high all the time.

College was something Mark used to avoid the last year of high school, and he planned to make enough money so he never had to go to college. The plan, as with all of them, didn’t go as he wanted, of course, and when he ended up at the dorm, he found his way to Chinese studies, which led him to some amazing teachers, and life was good.

Throughout the book, Mark theorizes on the meaning of life, first from kung-fu, then drugs, then music, Buddhism, and painting Chinese characters. He never figures it out, and analyzes his optimistic mother and his depressive but accepting father –a realist, who is always there for him. When Mark can’t figure things out, his father is always there with advice, or a look that Mark knows exactly how to interpret with the voice in his head.

The descriptions of the astronomy sessions with his father, whether it’s traveling for two solar eclipses, the comet impact with Jupiter, or searching for the horsehead nebula or other celestial wonders, were great. Through it, the author ponders how small humanity is compared with the stars, which makes him doubt his search for meaning.

The book was well written, and had an easy cadence to it, but I was only mildly interested in these recollections from a teen life. Not much resonated, and I kept wondering how the kid would survive. Fortunately, he grew out of it, as I guess most of us do.