Favorite Authors

Dear Best Friends,

You know how I revere your works. And I know I am far from alone in my admiration, for you are the idols of us bookworms, but for once I am writing to you, instead of because of you.

Attempting to choose one of you as the one to whom I am most connected brings pangs of guilt for those not named. No matter who I might choose, I know the rest of you will speak up to question my reasoning.

“As if there is another whose words you quote; whose words banished adolescent thoughts of suicide,” comes Mrs. Parker’s reproach. Of course, Dorothy, I owe you much and someday I may still write your poem on my bedroom ceiling.

On my bookshelf, out of reach of careless hands, is the all to well worn first book I ever read. Though I could not have told you her name without looking it up, Allison Uttley’s images of little Fuzzypeg and his holey blue smock are a fresh in my mind as they were in 1957

Honore, do you think Mrs. Uttley’s tale of Fuzzypeg’s being led astray from school would have held attention on the Decameron? The shift in tone would almost reflect the shift I made from child to adult – abrupt - but the theme and personalities remain the same.

Monsieur De Maupassant, knowing the mere mention of dear Balzac piques your interest, would you favor us with a treatment of the story, changing the characters to people of La Belle Epoque? Or do you think one of your short stories already tells this tale?

Then, while your stories merge in my memories, another voice, more current , grows louder.

“The spirit of my words inspire your daily discourse with my countrymen and our symbols look down over you each morning and night from your caligraphy. Would you place poems and little stories you rarely, if ever, read twice before the inspiration my disclosures have given since the first paragraph of mine you read?”

I know you will forgive my dwelling in a bit of revelry, Jung Chang. As you say, I cannot turn my back on the quest for truth that you and Irwin Tang have set me on, nor still my voice that you so often bring to life. Thank you for giving expression and facts to what I somehow already understood, and for leading me to so many others whose words need to be known.

Getting Old?

Just like everything having a downside to it, everything has an upside to it. Do we call them “up” and “down” sides by accident or is it because it’s so easy to fall “down” and harder to climb “up”? Think about it. At least for a lot of us it’s much easier to realize the downside of a good situation, sometime presaged by the “waiting for the other shoe to drop” feeling, than to surface from the quicksand of a bad one to find the upside.

Growing old – good or bad?

Yep, there’s a laundry list for you. If you are over 40, I bet you were already naming the problems in your head before you read this sentence. Come on, if you are reading this after a long day (week?) at work, or while killing time waiting somewhere (doctor’s office?); you know your head filled with a seemingly endless stream of “issues”. Top of my list? (Or is it the bottom, if it’s the worst of the worst?) It’s a tossup between realizing I cannot physically do some of things I did 20 years ago, and dealing with people who think I can’t, or won’t, do those that are still possible for me. No, I don’t power lift stage equipment anymore. Nor do I really want to. Yes, I can dance till dawn ….. Are you a good enough partner to keep up? But why waste energy dwelling on this side of the ledger? There are plenty of people to do that for all of us.

The first good things about getting older that come to my mind are perhaps a bit vindictive. I get to deny my younger friends the excuse of “I’m getting too old…” when they don’t want to do something. It’s definitely one of my favorite moments, when I can turn “that look” on them with a resounding “You’re what?” And having justification for a bit of spite is another one of those benefits that comes with time, too.

Being on the lower end of the slope to 60, I have recently discovered that if I don’t want to dress up, put on make-up, and fix my hair to go to the local Wal-Mart, its ok. There is not a high probability that I am going to miss catching Mr. Right’s attention even if I looked my best, because he’s probably looking for a less worldly 20-something. It’s kinda freeing to take a quick shower, throw on jeans, a blouse and a hat, and hop in the car – no muss, no fuss. Which brings me to one of my not so infrequent delights of age.

Sporting seriously silvery white roots, except for one contrary dark forelock, and driving a typical unassuming, common, dull, adult sort of sedan, I find myself chuckling when the kid in the next car is looking around mystified as to where the J-Rock is blasting from. It just couldn’t be that “old lady”. The same goes for the young stud who floors it to pass me if I am only doing the speed limit because I saw the cop ahead that he didn’t. I got my share of speeding tickets years ago, before my Daddy stopped paying my insurance.

I have also found that if I voice my disagreement with clerks, salesmen, and various other people “serving” the public, they are either so stunned that I didn’t just go along with them, or scared of looking like they are mistreating an older person, that they tend to listen better than they did when I was younger. I don't usually have to point out to them that I earned this gray hair and it is not blonde. Of course, depending on the cultural environment you are in, it could conceivably be out of respect for their elders, but not where I come from.

Then there are the more comforting and amenable perks of age, especially when you keep friends half your age. Young men, who often forget their manners, except on formal occasions, actually pull out my chair when we are being seated, see that my order is taken and my drink kept filled, and treat me with deference to other younger women in conversation. Along with this preferential treatment there is rarely the implied demand for reciprocal favors that were always part of the exchange years ago. Though that is a two sided coin, because sometimes I feel more appreciation than a smile or hug conveys. (sigh) Sometimes I miss the days when there were more eligible bachelors for me, but then I crawl into my nice big bed where no one snores or hogs the sheets and drift off to sleep smiling. And no guy can tell me he actually enjoys sharing a bed on a regular basis where he can’t sprawl as he wants without being kicked.

Stupak Stupidity

There are those who are accuse Deomcratic Representative Bart Stupak of Michigan of turning Republican after putting forth the short sighted and discriminatory anti-women’s rights amendment to the health care bill. I disagree. No competent Republican would endorse a bill that would result in such a fiscal time bomb.

Rep. Stupak, you need to reconsider the financial impact of your “cost saving” measure to the health care industry, existing welfare programs and the tax payers, you claim to be protecting. You have failed to consider the costs on society of a single parent and children born into households already unable to afford minimal health care and other necessities of life.

Yes, this would save the government the expense of pre-op examinations, the surgical procedure itself and doctor’s fee for possibly an office check-up afterward. I have heard this could amount to about almost $2000.00 which I, and many single women, could ill afford. So your plan would work in establishing a financial deterrent to abortion. Which you have to admit is the real reason for your drafting this amendment, rather than any real issue over the cost to the government or tax payers.

The result of your success will be the classic unwed mother and her unwanted child living on welfare because someone who cannot afford $2000 for an abortion certainly cannot afford to feed, clothe and properly care for a child. So it is the government and the tax payers who will make up the deficit.

We will pay for months of pre-natal health care, the cost of the delivery, the post delivery stay in the hospital though various governmental assistance programs. This alone far exceeds the cost of the abortion.

We will pay for the child’s pediatric care.

We will pay for the either the mother to go on welfare to provide day care for the child, or we will subsidize the day care she finds.

We will pay for these unwanted children with higher demands on agencies dealing with abandoned and abused children.

We will pay for the higher demand on already scarce resources for indigent families.

We will pay for the already crippling demand for emergency care for these who will be left with no other choice.

Your amendment is simply another way to further penalize the economically challenged. Those in your tax bracket will not be deterred from abortion because they can afford to hire such services.

Your amendment is simply another way to further penalize the women of this country, who continue to be the ones who bear the burden of pregnancy and child birth when there is not a second parent taking responsibility.

HUSH!

Today is my day for people to irritate the fire out of me. I have been awake just over 9 hours and already wanted to seriously “educate” eight people. For some people this might not seem to bad. At least it’s not quite a rate of one an hour – YET! But I have only spent one hour in contact with the public, so this does not bode well for the rest of the day, that in two hours will resume with public contact.

Even though only two people are guilty repeatedly ruining my mornings (and those of several others), the offense committed by all eight today are essentially the same; thus my finally venting my irritation here.

If you think that because your personal life is not open to those of us around you, do not think for even one self-absorbed moment that your obliviousness does not affect us. Your actions affect everyone in your vacinity to some extent. And when you are inconsiderate of this fact, we grow to despise you. Not only are last night’s activities none of our business, we do not want to hear about them when you give your daily oral dissertation to the person next to you on the train or bus. There is no need to expound in a voice that can be heard over the ambient noise of public transit and quieter conversations of the other 30 passengers in your vicinity.

A child’s misbehavior is something we all accept as inevitable at some point. Small children are known to be loud and tempermental from time to time. But a crying, stomping, temper tantrum every 48 hours or so is not. And none of us volunteered to endure your child reaering issues. Some people appreciate efforts to explain to a child that they should behave better, but at some point an unruly 3 year old needs something they understand better than adult logic. The only thing worse than the screaming brat, is the ineffective parent who cannot control them. Perhaps if you use the vocal authority and force of the person previously described, you could delay a judiciously timed spanking. Whichever method you choose, just either take control or remove the child from the area. We do not appreciate the disruption of both our mood and our schedule, as we delay while you attempt to persuade someone who seems to be more resolute than you to have their way.

Music is something I love and good vocalist is to be admired. But singing to your self in a public area has its price. If you are listening to your iPod, do you realize how far off key you are? If you are not listening to your favorite recording, have you notice people staring as if you are crazy? And if you are leading an impromptu choir, please take it to your local church, that I choose not to attend. I paid for a train ticket, not a gospel concert.

For those of you who think we all share your tastes in entertainment, you are wrong. If your car stereo is vibrating the vehicle next to you, it is too loud. The content and style that you choose to destroy every last semblance of hearing with is irrelevant. When another person feels it before they hear it, you are a public nuisanace. And if its commercials and talk radio, I have a personal vendetta in mind for you. If were are listening to your earbubs from across the aisle, don’t you dare expect my tax dollars to underwrite your hearing aids that will eventually replace them.

Easier to understand, but just as aggravating, are coworkers who shout back and forth, thinking themselves as more productive and promoting a friendly, inclusive atmosphere. Well, if you are the one having to answer phones or focus on something different from the carousing group, it’s a problem. It’s a problem because callers hearing the background noise may not understand. It’s a problem if callers have to repeat themselves when they cannot be heard over the phone. And it’s a problem because as it disrupts the concentration of other workers, it adds a sense of their being left out of the group, too.

Yes, I am complaining about noise pollution; pollution at a level that individuals can address. And for those of you who don’t know, I am not a quiet person who wishes the world was as quiet a library. I play drums; I sing at the top of my lungs; my speaking voice has been known to resonate of the far walls of auditoriums. But there times and places for these things, and they are not on public transit or in your average business office.

Korean History in the West?

As a “westerner” who was educated in both the U.S. and briefly in the U.K., let me state first of all that it is regrettably true that for the most part Korea is ignored in western education.

The focus is on “western civilization” and ancient Asian history is only mentioned where there are direct links to the history of the west. Years ago China and India were only mentioned in because Marco Polo wrote about visiting there. The only exception was if one chose to delve further in college, but even then the options were seriously limited. Most of the western curriculum focused on Asian only in the modern era, and sometimes, with the exception of WWII, even that was only a brief surface level look. I seriously cannot remember having to even know where Japan was on the Globe. We knew China because of the USSR and because I was in school during the “Cold War”. Korea’s only mention is the “Korean Police Action” and the fact that the country remained divided with an “evil government” in the north and a democracy in the south. That’s it – nothing more. Learning what I have on my own in later years, I find it disgraceful.

Were it not for some people I met because my father trained Asian pilots, and a separate interest in Shamanism, I might still be largely ignorant of Korean history. I would probably still see Korea through the visions relayed to me by a man who was a negotiator at Panmunjom the year I was born. And that would be extremely distorted.

In higher education, depending on your field, you do start learning more about China and Japan. But it’s not necessarily just because of a bias toward those countries. Most of the material I was taught was philosophy, religion, political structure and military strategy. The reason most of that centers on just China and Japan in the west is because those are the resources most readily available. Ancient Chinese and Japanese manuscripts are widely published in English and other western languages. I still find it hard to find these types of works that have been transcribed in Hangul and then translated into English. Is it that there is not much Korean History published in English, especially on a high school level, or have I just not found a good source? People only learn from what they have access to. Hangul is not taught in most schools in the west, so unless the history is in English and put before students, Korean history and culture will remain a blank for most westerners.

A recent example of this is that despite my interest in Korean history, it was only within the past month that I learned that 100 years ago there were more Koreans in Texas than Chinese or Japanese. I knew the history of the Japanese here because of the rice fields and internment camps. And the Chinese have always been very visible. But it took being given a book by Irwin Tang (a Chinese American) to find out about the Korean communities because they have been so self-contained. Granted this is not really part of Korea’s history, but if something that close and in my own country is unknown, think how remote the information before the immigration is to us? Korean history is not usually something that comes up in casual conversation over drinks between a Korean and an American, so what is going to spark the American’s interest to learn more than is put in front of them?

(Actually I have had those conversations, but those in earshot have looked at us like we are either insane or had way too much soju.......and they may have been right on both counts.)

Gong Xi Fa Cai

My new goal is to spend each Lunar new Year in a different place.
2007 - Los Angeles
2008 - Dallas
2009 - Chicago or Houston (?)

A.D.D. or Antidote for Boredom?

Whether it is a mild case of ADD or just too many interests to stay focused, switching between interests has been a double-edged sword from my earliest memories. The scenario usually goes something like this. Something catches my attention and I have to know everything possible about it yesterday. Of course this impossible, but I dive in headfirst and plow through everything I can until my version of reality sinks in. Either I do not have the resources (financial, free time, physical stamina, or skill) to continue, or I finally face that my goal is incredibly unrealistic. I scale back my efforts and eventually the quest becomes a memory. Or, as with ADD, something equally intriguing surfaces and the ever-hopeful seeker goes off on this new tangent. The original interests either fall by the wayside or mutates into something that blends with the new exploration.
Either way the results tend to be consistent. A basic understanding of the new subject is added to the rest of the Trivial Pursuit answers stockpile in my biological RAM. An appreciation for those well versed on the subject of the moment is added to the “good guys – might want to meet someday” list. A mosh pit arranged pile of papers, notes, books and other data is added to the ever-growing pile of crap I will someday have to move, even though I can rarely find any item I go looking for later from this pile. And most imposingly, this unattained grail is added to all the others I will someday resume my journey to find when I am old and have nothing better to do (as if I will ever be able to retire?). Stockpiling against future boredom!
Some of this is good – knowledge gained, even if incomplete. Some of this is bad – a pack rat’s paper heaven!
Such has been the fate of my studies of music, language, theology, sports, and many other fields. The debris of instruments, dictionaries, iconography, toys, notebooks and file folders litters my surroundings like Hansel and Gretel’s breadcrumb trail through the forest. If I follow it, I will retrace old paths, but it is more likely the debris will wear away over time leaving spaces to be filled in only by having to choose another unmarked direction.
What is the growing smirk for? Well, considering all this, I wonder what those paths I have walked to the end of say about me. For there are those expeditions into unknown territories that I managed to pursue to their final destination (at least final as far as I am concerned), before allowing the sparkle of a new idea to distract my magpie sight. If you have read this far, I suppose you are wondering just what strange lands those journeys crossed and where they saw their finish. Or maybe if you have seen my library and talked with me at length, you have seen a map of where I have been and maybe even learned the why and how. But I doubt that even you know what rewards awaited the journeys’ conclusions, because years later I am still finding new ones once in a while. Mostly the rewards were confidence replacing ignorance, and even fear at times, and indelible memories of experiences that others only read about in books.
But future blogs will disclose the details of a few.