Over to my left I saw something that was kind of creepy.  Maybe not creepy, but made me ask if this was really happening?  In a large empty space of green grass, pooled in the middle were a flock of black crows.  There must have been a hundred.  Maybe more?  Less?  I didn’t sit and count.  Didn’t know if I was going to be pecked to death.

Keeping my distance, I started to walk along a winding cement path.  Through the trees and around the grass the flock of crows followed me.  Or coincidentally flew at the same place that I strolled, despite the ocean of land all around me.

Then a back of a tomb stone caught my eye.  Beside it was another tombstone that was also very familiar.  I calmly strolled around to the front.  I knew.  I’d found him.  I’ve seen pictures of his tombstone before, and there was no mistaken this was Bruce’s.  To the right lay his son, Brandon.

During the time I was taking acting classes back in college, I’d wondered if Bruce had any children.  I never thought to find out before.  Bruce had two, and his son was an actor.  It was sort of finding out that Jesus had children.  And yes, I loved reading the Da Vinci Code.  I dreamed about working with Brandon.  Soon after, a tragic accident resulted in his death.  So sad.

In front of the grave site a marble bench sat.  An engraving lined the edge of it, but I don’t remember what it said.  I paid my respect, bowed three times, sat on the bench and had a conversation with one my idol.  Yes, call me weird.  Then it happened.

A single black crow landed on a tombstone next to Brandon’s.

I looked at it.  It looked at me.  I know what you’re thinking.  No, it didn’t talk to me.  Nor did I talk to it.  Now, when this was going on, I didn’t time it.  But the crow sat there for a long time.  Long enough for me to be weary of my vulnerable eyes.  Suddenly…it attacked me.  I got up ran away, flailing my arms.

Just kidding.

It kept looking at me and, moments later, flew off.  Moments later, I left.  The whole experience was surreal, spiritual, and it’s been something that I’ve wanted to do, and done it.

So you’re saying the crows and crow landing by me was a coincidence.  Perfectly understandable.  On my last day, I went back to the cemetery to say one final good-bye.  I entered Lakeview Cemetery.  There were a lot more sparrows and not a single crow.

I flew back home feeling a connection, energized, with a pretty cool story to tell my dates.  Oddly enough, they don’t continue seeing me.  Hmmm.

Spiritual Experience with Bruce Lee:  Part 1

With most Asian boys of my generation, Bruce Lee was da man.  Not only did he kick butt, but he always had a reason to do it.  When I was a kid, I’d fantasized:

“Hey you,” said some kid.

“What did you say to me?” I said.

“Gimme your lunch money.”

“You offend me, you offend my familee!”  I pointed at him, swipe my nose with my thumb.  “Whoppah!”

That was as far as my dialogue would go before I dealt some serious whoopin’ of the rear end.  I was a kid.  Around my teens years I’d discovered Bruce had been buried in Seattle, WA.  Just a couple of states above me.  Since then I’ve wanted to go on a quest to find Mr. Lee.

One year, my company forced us to go on non-paid vacation to save money.  I decided to fly up to Seattle and begin my Indiana Jones type search.  I was actually kinda anxious.  Bruce is buried in Lakeview Cemetery.  I fly into Seattle and ask the hotel clerk where Lakeview is.  They inform me it’s like 5-6 hours north.

What?!

Did I fly in the wrong city?  No!  I swore it was Seattle.  I turned to the net, searched, and bam.  Lakeview was 30 minutes away.  Whew!

It was a gray, sprinkly day, and I zoom down the highway with anticipation.  At this point in my life, I’ve read and studied the legend, so there was this energy around me during the trip.  The cemetery was pretty easy to find.  I park my studly rental, a Kia four door, and step onto the wet asphalt.  I look for a map like the kind you find at a mall that says, you’re here–big black arrow–Bruce is here–big red dot.  There was no such map.  A few brown sparrows landed on a patch of green but soon flew off.

I enter the large iron gates.  Whoa!

There must have been a few thousand tomb stones.  Most had names like Yang, Chang, Lang, Dang.  Dang it!  A lot of Asian people.  There were Lee’s, Chong’s, Chu’s…it was like trying to find the needle in a needle stack.  Thirty minutes roaming around where dead people are, and I couldn’t find da man.

Then I noticed something weird, something strange.  Was it a coincidence?

Come back tomorrow and check out part two.