I once thought The Karate Kid was nonsense. Paint the fence. Sand the floor. Wax on, wax off. Daniel-san thinks his time is being wasted, only to learn that mastering chores is the key to earning a Black Belt. A good movie, but it’s pretty clear that in real life the only way Daniel-san was leaving the All-Valley Martial Arts Tournament alive was if he’d brought a gun.
Then, on a balmy evening in lower Manhattan, I was visited by the ghost of Mr. Miyagi’s long-dead and longer-lost English cousin. He came in the form of H.F.S. Morgan, founder of Morgan Motor Cars, and he came bearing instructions:
Bend the leg. Clutch in, clutch out.
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