esle gnihtemos tuoba klat s'teL



Linda the pediatrician and I have unknowingly formed this ritual (almost like a secret code) to shoot the breeze once the important stuff concerning my children's check-ups are over. Whenever Linda – who is Chinese-American – is finishing up with one of my kids, we would have this conversation:

o Linda (speaking to Will): You look so Korean. But your father looks Chinese. (Then glancing at me . . .) Do people confuse you for Chinese?
o Michael: No, not really . . . well, sometimes. But when I have a suntan, some people think that I'm Filipino.
o Linda: I went to this Korean clothing store. Everything looks great, but it's so expensive. Oh, my cousin is studying in Korea right now!

And then we would talk about all things Korean such as Korean culture and why many Korean women undertake cosmetic surgery. "I can't believe how beautiful Korean women are looking these days," she would say to me. Somehow, we have managed to slip into these conversations even while there were screaming babies right outside of the examining room.

Just last Saturday, when I took Will over for a check-up, Linda again began to say, "Will, I'm not sure who you look like. Your father really looks Chinese." At that point, I said to myself, "Ahhh, she wants to talk about other things now . . . well, okay!" (It was probably the third time that Linda had started a conversation using the "You-look-Chinese" ice breaker.) Well, that's understandable. It would be much more embarrassing to start a conversation with "Your children are fine. Sooooo . . . let's talk about other things which will tell me more about your background, your personality, etc."

Still, I sometimes wish that people didn't have to go through that unsaid ritual where we act polite and aloof with each another (because no one wants to look desperate to make friends), and then, later, start to drop small hints about ourselves. ("Ah, yes, one of my friends works at Deutsche Bank, too. I studied in Cologne . . . oh, you did, too?")

I know that humans are more complex than, say, lower life forms such amoebas, and that, as humans, we have to go through these social contortions and acrobatics just to get to know one another. But even other animals – such as pidgeons and Japanese cranes – have their dancing rituals where they show off their virility by puffing up their feathers or spreading their wings. Hmmm, I guess we all share certain traits.
- posted by Michael @ 9:20 PM

 
More rumblings

This was an actual conversation between my wife and daughter. I had no idea what they were fighting about. Somtimes women are very difficult to figure out.

o Soo-Jung: If you don't tell me what's wrong, I can't help you.
o Jane (pouting): . . .
o Soo-Jung: Why don't you just talk to me? Please . . .
o Jane (more pouting): . . .
o Soo-Jung: I can't read your mind. Just tell me why you're angry.
o Jane (still pouting): . . .
o Soo-Jung (throwing hands in the air): Oh, you're impossible!!!



Funny thing, I had the same exact conversation with my wife just a few weeks ago, and my wife was the one pouting. I said to Soo-Jung, "Now you know how I feel when you don't tell me what's wrong." She then gave me that evil eye that only women know how to make. I don't get it. Did women learn how to make that evil eye in a special class or something?
- posted by Michael @ 10:03 PM

 
Final clearance

My wife, Soo-Jung, and I are getting rid of some of the clutter in the apartment. Is there anyone who wants a little girl? We think her name is Jane. You may, of course, give her a new name.



Here are some special features:
o Acute sense of fashion
o Potty-trained and almost housebroken
o Will respond in English or Korean if spoken to in that particular language
o Will probably forget former parents since she is still young

Act now! This offer will end soon and cannot be found in any stores. You get the acute sense of fashion, the bilingual speaking-ability, and much more. Call within the next 20 minutes and you'll also get a nine-month old baby for free. That's right, absolutely free.



This baby is almost brand new. His mind is still unformatted, and you can download any value system you think is appropriate. This is a one-time offer only. You get the little girl and a baby for free! There are no credits, exchanges, or returns. All sales are final, and applicable sales taxes will apply. You cannot combine this special with any other offers.
- posted by Michael @ 9:22 PM

 
Working and playing

My wife and I knew that we would have to make lots of personal sacrifices in order to raise children. I mean, we don't have time to do anything such as read books or even go to the bathroom. The kids usually come first. But I've become much more efficient these days.

For example, take "hide and seek." If you play this game correctly, you can spend quality time with your children while doing your household chores. My daughter Jane always hides first. What Jane doesn't know is that, while I am calling out to her ("Oh, Jane, where are you? Are you in the kitchen?"), I am usually straightening up the living room or balancing my check book. But you have to make sure that you call out to your kids every five seconds so that they won't get suspicious and come out of their hiding places.



At one point, Jane hid in the closet for 10 minutes while I did the cleaning. She thinks that I'm dumb because I don't find her quickly. (Oh, you silly girl. I still love ya except when I want to kill you, which is often!) Also, Jane is awful at playing "hide and seek." When I call out to her in my rhetorical manner, she actually tells me where she is hiding. Can you believe that?! "I'm under the table," she yells to me. And then Jane acts surprised when I do find her under the table. Well, she's only 3-1/2 years old. What can I expect, right?
- posted by Michael @ 10:34 PM

 
Getting things off my chest



There seemed to be one continuous theme running through this weekend – women's breasts. There is a woman at church who just happens to have larger-than-usual breasts. She's not a floozy, and I'm not implying that large-breasted women are floozies in any way. But it's obvious that – in comparison to the other well-dressed, elegant, and slender middle-aged women at Sunday service – this particular well-dressed, elegant, and slender middle-aged woman had larger breasts than her peers. She was even wearing a fancy sweater, which should have made less apparent the size of her breasts. (I know that I am overusing the word "breasts," but my thesaurus is giving me some lousy substitutes such as "mammary glands" and "ta-ta's," which I think is very distasteful). I'm also sure that the younger guys at church stare at her.

During service, I pointed all of this out to my wife, who then jabbed me with her elbow and said in a biting whisper, "Shut up!" (This is simply an English translation. What she actually said sounded way better in Korean.) When I replied in a wistful gaze, "Wow, her husband must be one happy guy," my wife gave me this combined look that said "Give me a break" and "You're going to die when we get home." (I don't know how women do that.) But then I persisted and whispered, "Isn't that amazing! This woman is even better-looking than women half her age." My wife then said, "You know, Korean women don't like big breasts. They prefer the small size. Just ask anyone." When I was about to ask the woman sitting next to me, my wife pinched me in the leg.

Yesterday, I was explaining to my daughter, Jane, that fruits and vegetables are grown on farms and not in supermarkets. Of course, she didn't believe me. So I went to Google Images and typed in different names of fruits and vegetables. Jane was amazed that carrots and onions grew in the dirt, and that bananas grew in trees. She then asked about watermelons. When I told her that watermelons had to grow on the ground because tree branches would be unable to support the weight of a growing watermelon, she didn't believe me. (Unlike women, trees can't wear bras.)

I then typed the search term "watermelons" into Google Images, and all these different pictures came up. But at the top of the page was a lone photo of a woman with large breasts (and, no, it wasn't the woman from church). If you don't believe me, here is the link to that particular search result. Jane asked me why there was a picture of woman among the other watermelons. Without missing a beat, I told her that this particular woman just liked to eat watermelons.

Later in the evening, we were watching the television show Fear Factor when all of the women contestants appeared in bikinis. Jane pointed to one woman and said, "She has a large chest." And during the commercial break, there was an ad for (you guessed it!) . . . chicken breasts!
- posted by Michael @ 9:20 PM

 
A very late post

I forgot to post this entry last month. Since I rarely speak about work, I thought I should mention it briefly here.

How hard can it be to get your boss a Christmas present? Well, it was very hard for me. I was flipping through the latest issue of Consumer Reports, which had a short list of "good value, high quality" wines. (I don't know anything about wine.) I visited a large wine store near NYU with a photocopy of the list and asked the clerk to find everything. We only found one out of the ten wines on the list. So the clerk just started to recommend a few bottles. I said in a very distinguished voice, "Ah, yes, that's a good choice!" The clerk then had a good laugh.

Finding an appropriate Christmas card was also very difficult because I couldn't find a generic card right away. It would have been really weird if I had given my boss (a very distinguished and worldly older gentleman) any of these cards:

(i) For that special someone
(ii) Thinking of you this holiday season
(iii) Missing you this Christmas
(iv) For a special grandson
(v) Hoping you will recover quickly

Well, everything worked out. I finally found a generic and boring card along with a few bottles of wine. I asked my boss to get me a sweater from Brooks Brothers. Just one. (He always asks me what I want.) When I opened the box, there were three inside. I'm not sure what to do with the bright yellow sweater. I mean, I don't play golf.
- posted by Michael @ 9:13 PM

 
My jeans cost $250 . . . now treat me with respect!

Have you ever noticed how people who dress nicely or who look rich are treated with much more respect than those who don't dress as well or who aren't rich or even rich-looking? We even give these people the benefit of the doubt. I'm sure that this has been going on for thousands of years, and to express any surprise about this would be naivety on my part. I mean, most people avoid and ignore the bums on the subway, and I understand why. But I still think it's silly.

But even at Sunday service, where – in my opinion – it shouldn't matter how you look, I notice that the assistant pastors and church administrators treat the supposedly richer-looking people much better than those wearing, say, blue jeans unless those jeans are very expensive. (I'm positive that Jesus did not even wear the equivalent of a suit or even casual business-wear back in his days, and I’m also sure that he didn’t ask people to look nice for him, either.) Maybe I’m just imagining things. I don’t know.

And did I myself succumb to this unnecessary need to dress nicely? You bet I did! There was a time in my life when I didn't care about how I looked, though I didn't look like a bum. (I had even grown out my hair.) But I inwardly criticized people who let fashion take over their lives. Now look at me! I'm going with the flow. Let me tell you, I don't know how people can afford to shop at Banana Republic on a regular basis. (I shop at a Banana Republic outlet store.) And look, no drawings to accompany this post!
- posted by Michael @ 10:10 PM

 
Fun with plastic blocks

I'm trying different things to entertain my kids.



My son and daughter seemed to have a good time with this recent activity. I thought it would be very educational for them, too. In what sense was it educational? Ah . . . I'm not sure right now.
- posted by Michael @ 10:23 PM