Everybody Wants Kung Fu Fighting: The Great White Ninja of Digital Marketing

Lauren Nixon-Matney • March 28, 2026
Everybody Wants Kung Fu Fighting: The Great White Ninja of Digital Marketing

Carl Douglas: Kung Fu Fighting

Film: Beverly Hills Ninja

Sometimes a movie scene follows you through life.


Or maybe it is not the scene at all… just the feeling of it, looping quietly somewhere in the background.


For me, one of my favorite echoes goes all the way back to a sleepover night with my brother Bobby and our friend Trey, watching the ridiculous, lovable chaos of Beverly Hills Ninja starring Chris Farley.


We laughed the entire time.


Not at one specific line. Not even really at the plot.


What stuck with me was the body language.


Chris Farley rolling across the floor trying to move like a stealth ninja, completely committed and completely ridiculous at the same time. The kind of physical comedy that makes your stomach hurt from laughing.


Somewhere in the cultural background of that memory lives the song Kung Fu Fighting.


Maybe it was in the trailer. Maybe it was just the way martial arts comedy always seemed to carry that soundtrack energy with it. Either way, the feeling stuck. Ridiculous ninja energy, laughter bouncing around a room full of kids, the kind of moment that imprints itself without asking permission.


Sometimes laughter arrives exactly when you need it most. You barely even realize it at the time, but years later you recognize the moment as a kind of anchor.


Looking back now, that sleepover probably happened in the fall of 1997. A strange and heavy year in my life. My parents had divorced the year before. My grandmother had passed away that August after a sudden stroke and heart attack. I was ten and Bobby was fourteen. We were the ones who found her early that morning… and if I’m being completely honest I was still a very fragile and traumatized young child. Everything felt unstable in ways I could barely understand.


And then, all of a sudden, in the mess of life’s chaos… there was that night.


A movie.

A room full of laughter.

Chris Farley rolling across the floor pretending to be a ninja.


For a little while, everything felt safe again. Familiar.


Years later, I started noticing something interesting about the way memories echo through life.


Sometimes they come back as songs. Sometimes as movies. Sometimes as the strange recognition of a feeling you just know you have felt before.


Sometimes they come back as people.


And, in a beautiful and zany way… that was Jamie.


Not because he was pretending to be a ninja, obviously… but because he carried that same kind of energy.


Big hearted humor.


The kind that makes people laugh before they even realize why.


The kind that makes a room feel lighter.


It was that same disarming warmth I remembered from watching Beverly Hills Ninja and laughing until we could barely breathe.


That same feeling of safety tucked inside ridiculous comedy.


Years later I realized something about that kind of energy.


People who make the world feel lighter are often the ones quietly doing the hardest work behind the scenes.


The funny ones.


The kind ones.


The ones who would never call themselves heroes.


Real ninjas rarely announce themselves.


They just keep training.


For as long as I have known Jamie he has been a computer guy. Long before SEO and digital marketing became the world we live in now, he was fixing laptops, running small repair work through Craigslist, helping people figure out machines that refused to cooperate.


Later came the deeper dives.


Classes through Florida Tech. Google certifications. Keyword research rabbit holes that stretched late into the night. Whiteboards full of strategy diagrams. Long hours learning the strange and ever changing logic of search engines.


My role during those years was mostly simple.


Remind him to eat.


Occasionally remind him to blink.


Tight budgets happened. Long nights of research happened. Lots and lots of Taco Bell value menu dinner nights!


None of it felt like a mistake.


It felt like training.


Like a blessing in disguise.


In 2017 we were sitting at the dining table in our home in Hot Springs, Arkansas. Sliding glass doors opened to the forest behind the house. Deer moved quietly through the trees outside.


I was pregnant with our second child. It was a high risk pregnancy, the kind that fills your days with quiet worry, cautious hope and continuous prayer. 


Jamie was talking about the marketing industry. About how much of it felt dishonest. Promises that could never be kept. Small businesses getting taken advantage of by people selling shortcuts that did not really exist. 


He said he wanted to build something better.


Something honest.


I remember sitting there in my favorite blue chair that we still sit in today, looking out into the trees, telling him something very simple.


I believe in you.


Then we named the company. Together.


Maverick Digital Solutions.


Named after our son. Named after the most honorable thing we had built together.


And like most things that matter in life, the beginning looked small from the outside.


Late nights at the computer.


Research rabbit holes that stretched until sunrise.


Whiteboards full of strange diagrams and keyword maps that only Jamie could fully decode.


There were long stretches where progress looked invisible to everyone except the two of us sitting at that table.


But little by little, things started working.


Clients began to see results. Small businesses started calling back. Word spread quietly from one company to another. A website here. A ranking there. A strategy refined. Another lesson learned.


The training never really stopped.


Jamie kept studying. Kept testing. Kept refining the craft.


If something didn’t work, he figured out why.


If he made a mistake, he owned it.


If a client needed something fixed, he stayed until it was fixed.


No shortcuts. No gimmicks. Just the slow discipline of learning a skill and doing it the right way.


Years passed like that.


Which is when I started noticing something funny about the way the metaphor had been sitting there all along.


The world is full of people who call themselves marketing ninjas.


Some ninjas train their whole lives. They study the craft, practice the discipline, refine their code.


Some just buy the costume.


The difference becomes obvious if you watch long enough.


Real ninjas are not the loudest ones in the room.


They are the ones quietly practicing the same movements over and over until the work becomes second nature.


Over the years, I realized something funny about the way life echoes back on itself.


The Great White Ninja was never just a character from a comedy movie.


He was the Great White Ninja of digital marketing…


sitting across the table from me all along.


The wild thing about echoes is that they rarely start where you think they do.


The name Maverick had been living somewhere in my soul long before that night at the table.


When I was a little girl, my dad and I used to watch the old television series Maverick together. Black and white reruns, late evening television, me curled up next to him under his arm while James Garner outsmarted people with charm and humor instead of brute force.


It was another one of those quiet comfort memories.


Another little anchor.


Another echo.


Years later the name showed up again when our son was born.


Then again when we named the company.


Echoes have a funny way of doing that.


They travel.


They wait.


They resurface exactly where they are needed.


And the truth is, another story had been quietly growing alongside all of this.


A much older one.


Searching for Stars.


I had been writing pieces of that story since I was sixteen or seventeen, filling notebooks with memories, fragments, songs, moments that refused to leave my head. At the time it was just a strange collection of stories and ideas.


Something I loved.


Something I carried with me.


What I did not know yet was that the same company we were building from that little table in Hot Springs would eventually give those stories a place to live.


Without Maverick Digital Solutions, Searching for Stars probably would have stayed inside a stack of notebooks.


Instead it grew.


The business Jamie built created the time, the space, and the strange little corner of the internet where this project could finally breathe.


Which, when I think about it now, feels like another echo.


Another strange loop in the constellation.


Because somewhere along the way the story about music, memory, and echoes ended up being built on the same foundation as a digital marketing company run by a guy who still makes me laugh like a kid at a sleepover.


And somehow, every time I hear that song… or picture Chris Farley rolling across the floor like the world’s least stealthy ninja completely committed to the bit and making a room full of kids laugh until they could barely breathe, I end up right back there wrapped in the emotion of that sleepover memory.


Safe.


Laughing.


Exactly where the echo began.



< Older Post

Newer Post >

RESUME THE RHYTHM:

DRIFT THROUGH A CONSTELLATION OF MEMORY

Searching For Stars

Last Kiss: Melodies That Break Us

By Lauren Nixon-Matney • July 5, 2026
Buddy Holly : Last Kiss Pearl Jam: Last Kiss Cover

Good, Strong Words That Mean Something: A Letter of Light Through Pixelated Waves (for Heidi Clements)

By Lauren Nixon-Matney • July 5, 2026
My favorite literary phrase of all time is spoken by Josephine March, written by Louisa May Alcott in Little Women. “I like good, strong words that mean something.” You, my dear, you say good, strong words that mean something. You put good, strong words that mean something into the world, and I thank you so very sincerely for that. You have made such an incredible impact on my life, and on my outlook on beauty and aging. ⸻ I stumbled across your incredible fashion sense on Instagram and was completely hooked on your vibe. I absolutely love fashion. I always have. I’ve definitely had my own kind of zany style over the years. So when I saw you, I was like, OK, yes, she is amazing. I love this energy. ⸻ The way you put things together, the confidence, the energy, it makes you wanna get up, go into your closet, and actually enjoy getting dressed again. And for a woman approaching 40, who’s had three children and has had many of her own struggles with who am I, what’s my fashion, what’s my energy, or what’s my style, You just felt so damn refreshing and inspiring. So I hung around, but what really hooked me wasn’t just the style, it was you, the essence of you. The way you talk, the honesty, the fact that you just say things straight, no fluff, no sugarcoating, no trying to be anything other than exactly who you are.. and somehow that makes everything you say sound even more profound. ⸻ The impact your message was having in my life became undeniable. It wasn’t just something I watched for enjoyment anymore, it was something I actually began feeling, and carrying with me. I grew up in a time where it felt like there was an expiration date on women. Like if you didn’t fit into a certain mold, or size, or type… your worth somehow became less. And then life happens. You grow up. You age. Maybe have kids. Your body changes. Your priorities change. Somewhere in the middle of all of that, you can kind of lose your sense of… who am I now? What’s my style? Who am I supposed to become? Am I too late for something? What even feels like me anymore? So for a while, I think I actually bought into that idea without even realizing it. The idiodic notion that maybe I had passed some invisible point where things were supposed to quiet down. Tone down. Fit into something more “acceptable.” Or the grand illusion that I was out of time to follow my passions! But watching you… that narrative just started to fall apart. The way you show up, the way you speak, the way you move through the world so fully as yourself… it made me realize that aging isn’t something to fear or shrink from. If anything, it’s where things start to get really good. It’s where you get bolder. More comfortable. More you. More beautiful. ⸻ What you’re doing matters so much. The way you show up, the way you speak, the way you fully own who you are, it doesn’t just stay on a screen. It carries through pixelated waves. It reaches people like me, in real life, in real moments, and shifts something quietly but powerfully within us. So I just wanted to say thank you. For your honesty, your energy, your style, your voice… all of it. You have inspired me, Searching for Stars, and undoubtedly countless women all over the world more than words can truly translate. Thank you, for being you!

Getting Your Pink Back: Answered Prayers, Quiet Signs, Bluebirds and a Business Professional Poodle (A Letter of Light for Lindsey Gurk)

By Lauren Nixon-Matney • May 6, 2026
Okay, so I asked God for a sign this week… and I didn’t make it easy on Him. I had just seen this video about asking for a sign, about how God answers, about how He delights in it… and something in me just… recognized that. Like, oh. I’ve felt that before. Lindsey, it was your video. And the second I heard it, I remembered something. I remembered a time, years ago, back in that early, foggy, pinkless season of motherhood, when I had asked for a sign too. I had prayed, really specifically… really honestly… “God, just show me I’m okay. Show me I’m on the right path.” And I asked for a blue butterfly. I didn’t see it right away. I waited. I wondered if I had imagined the whole idea in the first place. And then, not long after, life moved us somewhere new. A new place, new energy… the kind of move that feels exciting and terrifying all at once. They handed us the keys… and right there on them… was a blue butterfly. And I remember feeling that same quiet recognition. Like… okay. And then, a couple months after that, with prayers inside us building for a second child, we went to a park. One of those ordinary days that turns into something you don’t forget. And there were butterflies everywhere. Hundreds of them. Yellow, filling the air, lifting all at once like something out of a dream. And right in the middle of it… one blue butterfly. I just stood there, overwhelmed, because I knew. I knew I had been heard. Nearly one year to the day later, our second child was born. And then… life kept moving. Time passed. Things got busy. Full. Loud. Beautiful… but a little hazy, too. Somewhere along the way, I think I stopped asking like that. Fast forward. I’m sitting with my kids on New Year’s Eve, going into 2025, talking about goals and dreams. The kind of things you say out loud but don’t always fully claim. “I’ve always wanted to write.” And my daughter, so sure, so certain, just looked at me and said, “Then make it your New Year’s resolution.” And something about the way she said it… she didn’t question it. she didn’t overthink it. She just… believed it was possible. So I did. I started building something I’ve carried in pieces since I was in high school. Old notebooks, scattered thoughts, songs, memories… things I’ve never really known how to explain out loud. And for the first time, it felt like someone actually got it. So I got to work. Writing with a baby asleep on my chest… voice notes, typed drafts, music playing in the background… piecing together old memories with new ones. And I love it. I really do. But if I’m being honest… I started to wonder. Is this meaningful? Is this worth the time? Is this something good… or just something I want? And more than anything… I wanted to know if it was something God saw as good. Not just something that looked meaningful… but something that was. So I sat down, quietly, and I prayed. And I said, “God, if this is something I’m supposed to keep building… if I’m on the right path… if this is your will for me… please just show me. Give me a sign.” And I paused… because I knew I couldn’t ask for something easy. I had asked for butterflies before and blue jays have been unusually common in our backyard lately. I needed something specific. Something I wouldn’t just brush off. I looked over… and saw this little pink and white poodle sitting on my daughter’s shelf. And I laughed a little and said, “Okay God… show me a poodle.” almost sarcastically thinking… well, this one’s going to take a little more effort. But of course… Not even 48 hours later, we ran into Burlington. We were just there to grab socks and shoes for my toddler, her sandals were bothering her. Quick in, quick out. We ended up wandering a little. We’re headed to checkout… and my husband steps down an aisle, picks something up, and goes, “Okay, I know this is ridiculous… but we need this for the office.” And he had no idea. Nothing about my prayer. Nothing about the poodle. I’m barely paying attention yet. And then he turns it around. It’s a painting. Of a poodle. Not just a poodle… a poodle in a full business suit… sitting at a desk… reading a newspaper. I just… stopped. A business professional poodle, for the office we’re building together, a space where I can write. Like everything in me went quiet for a second. Because of all the things in the world I could have asked for… of all the ways that prayer could have been answered… it was that. I remember thinking, smiling, fighting back tears of joy… of course it is. Because I had asked for something specific. And apparently… He has a sense of humor. Also, just to make sure I didn’t miss it… because let’s be real, God definitely knows how to show out… the very next place we went… was Petco. And there was this real poodle. Then again. And again. Every aisle I turned… I kept running into it. And that feeling came back. The same one from before. Quiet. Certain. seen. beloved. Lindsey… Thank you so much, you reminded me to ask. You reminded me that God doesn’t just hear us… He answers. Not always in big, overwhelming ways… but in ways we’ll recognize. In ways that feel personal. Specific. Sometimes even funny… like they were meant just for us. And Lindsey… I just want you to know how much I appreciate all of what you’re doing. Your energy, your humor, the way you show up so fully as yourself… it matters more than you probably realize. You make people laugh, you make motherhood feel seen, and you bring light into spaces that can feel heavy sometimes. But there is also so much more than that… God really radiates through you. In the way you speak, in the way you encourage, in the way you remind people to keep going and to keep believing. It’s powerful. And it’s beautiful to witness. What you’ve created with “get your pink back”… that message, that reminder… it’s reaching people. It’s lifting people. It’s giving something back to women who feel like they’ve poured everything out. And that matters. It really does. I’m so grateful I came across your video when I did. And I’m really looking forward to everything you create next… especially your writing. You’re doing something good here. Keep going. Please never stop casting your light into the world… it really does break through the darkness.
Show More