Quick programming note...we are off for Spring break next week so there will probably not be an entry next Friday. Here is a random episode from October 18th, 2014 for you to enjoy in the meantime. The links still work. Since it is a short week, below is quick and dirty so forgive the abundance of typos and lack of clarity
Picture archive time. This week...Quality Parenting part II
I included the second picture as that is an aerial view of the house I grew up in and it shows the vacant lot next door. My recollection is that some guy flew a plane around the neighborhood and took photos of all the houses, then went door to door trying to sell them to the owners. My dad happily snatched them up and they hung in the hallway outside my bedroom for my entire childhood. Wonder if they are hidden away somewhere? That was Google Earth in my days kids...when a picture was still on film, and a man still had body hair and displayed it proudly.
My point was the vacant lot next door. Was the only vacant lot I can remember anywhere near our place and we always thought the owner was a lunatic for not selling it (turns out he waited a couple decades and it appreciated at least 10 fold, so he was a genius as are most lunatics). The best part about having a vacant lot next door was that we had a vacant lot next door. It was the playground for all of the finest neighborhood troublemakers and was our Roman Coliseum. When we were little, me and my buddies would throw the tips of these weeds that had ends that looked like cat tails at each other, and they would sail like paper airplanes and sting if you got hit in just the right way. This soon evolved into more elaborate trench warfare as we'd dig huge holes connected them into giant castrum. Once the fortifications were constructed. we'd have massive dirt clod wars against each other. Can even recall a process where we manufactured the dirt clods with rocks inside to inflict the most pain. Seriously...can you believe that? I swear to you that is true. Fuckin' dirt clods...
At night we'd shoot bottle rockets all over the dry grass and weeds of the lot and never set it on fire, and never did an adult intervene or tell us to stop. And we made bike tracks with killer jumps and then race each other like Ben Hur...without helmets. Needless to say, my trusty Philippus and I were at a steep disadvantage to the BMXers, but we battled honorably. We all lived to tell the tale but as I've said many times before, have taken a lot of blows to the head and definitely took a few on the arena that was the vacant lot.
Before moving on, recommend that you write it down. Am well into year 6 of this space and it is my therapy. A way to document our experiences, tell stories, work on jokes, communicate with friends and more. Hadn't thought about the vacant lot or that bike since forever. Told you a few weeks ago about the chat I had with an acquaintance that was adopted at birth that just located with his biological parents. Just had a follow-up talk with him about their meeting and was enthralled by his story. Did make me sort of nervous about doing my own 23 & Me this summer, especially considering that time in my life when I made a living donating sperm. May share some of his tale one day, but told him he has to write this stuff down somewhere so he doesn't forget...he even said he remembered stuff just talking to me about it, like why they decided on the restaurant where he met his biological parents. Funny, heart wrenching, uplifting, all of it. You don't need to write a novel or whatever this thing is, just start with a note or two every day. I wasn't a writer and really don't consider myself one now, but the process has opened up parts of my mind and soul that were forgotten and unexplored.
Okey dokey...how about a little Two for Tuesday Taiwan Ying/Yang.
Ying...I had a filling fall out the other day. It was the first one I ever had and was so long ago that it was gold. Went to our local dentist who said, "haven't seen one of those in a long time". What I heard him say was, 'damn, you are old'. He made quick work of re-cementing it back into my jaw and all is good. The price out the door? NT$700, which is US$24.
Yang..."Crank that shit up!", said no one ever about Chinese music.
Ying...Have to say from time to time how great a spot we landed in apartment-wise. So convenient to walk to anything we need. Downtown and all it has to offer is 20 minutes by car/taxi, or a cheap subway ride away, lovely view and all that. But today's Ying goes out to the staff that tends to this place. None of the security guards or cleaning people speak English, but they always give me a real smile and wave, and we give hearty good mornings and such...I do my best Mandarin impersonation and they throw me some English. I particularly love the dude that is here 6 days a week cleaning stuff. One of the life lessons I pound into the kids is to always be nicest to the people doing the shittiest jobs wherever you go. Receptionists, wait staff and cleaning people; not only is treating these people like they are not invisible simply the right thing to do, but these are the people that can make your life better on a daily basis in real ways. In addition to clumsy words to the staff, always throw out a hand gesture and have a different one for each of them. Peace sign, hang loose, toodle-oo finger wag, double guns, etc., and the one for the cleaning guy is always the Elvis Presley, which is outstretched thumb, index and pinkie fingers accompanied with a 'thank you very much'. He started doing it back to me but incorrectly, so we got together and showed him the proper style and tried to explain who Elvis Presley was. Little things mean a lot
Yang...Was chatting with some teachers at the school last week and we were talking about different parenting styles. Many of the local parents (and to be fair, parents in all parts) are real pushy on their kids and in every talk or meeting the school puts on about stuff, like summer camps or college prep, they encourage these parents to give their kids a break and let the school do their thing. This teacher mentions to me a conversation he had with a parent that had enrolled their kid into an intensive SAT prep class over winter break in preparation for the SAT's last weekend. This 2 and 1/2 week, 8 hour a day class with 8 pupils in it cost NT$1,000,000 per student. That is one million local dollars which converts to US$34,500. I thought it couldn't be but had it triple confirmed, so that is a real thing. The teachers were aghast and so was I. Talking with Betty about it and she defended the parents. While I disagreed with her about certain points, like I thought it cruel to deprive your kid of a break from school, I did come around to the fact that while these Taiwanese/American kids speak English pretty well, they aren't as well versed in the King's as a person growing up in the States and so probably do need some extra help. And a bunch of parents at this school have more money than they can spend (there are multiple Maserati SUV's in the parking lot), why not invest that cash into prepping your kid best you can. At least they can say they tried. Anyhoo, that's good money for the instructors and they don't even give you a guaranteed score. While discussing this around town lately, I hear that to take a regular driver's ed class, it cost about NT$3,200 (US$120), but there is a place where you can pay NT$15,000 (US$520) that guarantees you'll pass your exam. That class is given by the same people that issue the exam. I double verified that piece of info too and it is common knowledge. Hard to believe that corruption could be so blatant but perfectly explains the driving situation here.
Bonus, is this Ying or Yang? I had a dream last night that was all about being in Taipei, but there was not a single Chinese person in it.
Moving on...seems I have had to explain the game Punchbug quite a lot recently, usually in an effort to explain the origins of Punchbucks, and what I find hard to believe is how not a single sole has ever played Punchbug. How is that possible? A combination of being old enough to live when Bugs were everywhere and the movement away from slugging someone for little reason perhaps...
One more gripe for the record. Bicycle riders attire. This is not for the people that use bikes as a means of transportation, but the douchiest of bags that ride their bikes as a religion. Possibly more annoying to talk to than golfers in that the self-righteousness of them getting exercise added to the tedium of them explaining their latest bike ride pushes them ahead of the grass hackers. And while golf attire is the same as present day neo-Nazi garb, the Lycra body suits in neon colors with Italian soda company advertising on them seems pompous and looks like you're auditioning for a low budget sci-fi direct to video movie. And no one wants to see your recently squashed penis bulge. I get that you need bright colors so people can see you right before you get nailed by a car cause you are going too fast in a place you shouldn't be, but let's get the fashion community working on something that isn't so offensive.
Was thinking the other day that it would be fun to get the Happy Days catch phrase 'Sit On It" to reenter the lexicon, but then realized that it would be considered highly offensive in a sexually macro-aggressive way. Still, may try to work it in here and there.
Last week we played the game "Who Is The Bigger Asshole" This week, have to confess to something I did as evidence as to just how much of one that I am. You'll recall that after our trip to Portugal I railed on how shitty their cuisine is, and I stand by that. We have a friend here who is second generation Portuguese...has family there, speaks it, etc. He is a terrific guy but our relationship is one where while we tend to agree on almost everything, we love to go at each other about anything. We are just both cantankerous cranks who enjoy sparring verbally. After we got back from our trip, we made arrangements to have dinner together and I suggested the Portuguese restaurant in town with the intention of hassling him about how shitty Portuguese food was. We battled over bachalau and Port wine most of the evening, much to the chagrin of our table mates, but I had a good time and think he did too, but still, total asshole am I.
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It's hard to watch the "Prez" these days cause it's all schoolyard taunts that I thought I'd left in the past, but his recent whine fest from Pennsylvania was on the news the other day and right behind him were these three 20-something gastropods lustily screaming 'yeah' when he told the standard lies, and 'boo' when he insulted women of color. You know they were vetted like contestants on the Price Is Right to ensure they played the part, but they had to do so willingly. Go ahead and check them out below...won't take more than 10 seconds for you to start shaking your head.
For these ladies, I am dropping my short lived desire to bring back 'Sit on it', cause while they appear to be attractive-ish, if they sat on it, 'it' would go limp instantly. Instead, want to start using a term that was popular on the vacant lot in my day. Ready? Don't think you're gonna like it but here goes...to my lady friends, I need you to identify these females early, like Middle school, and implore you to start using your Mean Girls power to shame these twats into a destructive eating disorder.
Twat. Haven't heard it in years but it sounds good, no? Think the Brits still use it with regularity. Maybe this is awful, like the "C" word, but maybe , just maybe this is that hidden gem I've been looking for. Mused a while back about the difference between assholes and dicks and didn't have a female equivalent for the ladies for the male dicks.
OK, the above isn't fair cause the amount of dudes that are dicks far outweigh the twats. But still, as a dude (and an asshole) any attempt at mansplaining to these delicate flowers what's what would be ineffective. I'll work on the Tech Bros and other assorted intolerant Nazi's I come into contact with, but need you ladies to get on your twatier associates tout de suite
Have been making an effort to end these things with a positive thought. The annual Feb/March sports drought is just about over. Tried to fill that void this year by getting into University of Virgina basketball, that went into the Tournament # 1 in the nation then shit the bed by loosing to the #16 seed, which was some Community College whose team name was the Retrievers. Hoops bore me, but around the corner is Opening Day of baseball season, and tonight is the Opening Bounce of the AFL (Australian Football League) season. Thankfully, there is still a sport that values a good blow to the head.
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