The weather is perfect, or perfectly bad. You’re with friends and family. Time slows and you throb with the lazy pace of it, as if the world was humming to itself. Nearby, someone is cooking and it smells great, smoky, comforting. Maybe you’re playing in [...]]]> You’ll know what I mean before I finish.

The weather is perfect, or perfectly bad. You’re with friends and family. Time slows and you throb with the lazy pace of it, as if the world was humming to itself. Nearby, someone is cooking and it smells great, smoky, comforting. Maybe you’re playing in the water. Perhaps you’re playing ball with your best friends under the Midnight Sun. Or drinking 40s around a bonfire at the beach. You could be active, or maybe taking slacking to a whole new level. More often than not, music is playing in the background. There could be dancing, there could be kissing. It’s different for everyone.

The specifics vary but the story is the same. There you are, in a day as long as time itself, your worries scared away like pigeons off a statue. You exist as your real self, one rid of concerns about homework, careers, action items, unaccomplished goals, body weight, mortgages, shortcomings, upcoming events, failed romance, minor inconveniences, and the rest of the infinity of crap we load on our own backs. We face the day as perhaps we were meant to, nakedly happy.

I’ve had these days from time to time, and I’ve tried to enjoy them without analyzing. I smile, I rarely say the word “no,” and all things, for that brief time, make a reassuring kind of sense. You can’t force it, but you know when it’s happening.

My brother and I call it “The Feeling.” Our definition was formed during a typical eternal summer day in Alaska, with a meandering sunset keeping watch over dad and his barbecue, smiling Samoyeds happily guarding the estate, and Mom gleefully mixing ketchup and mayo (an unholy fusion which I can easily blame 40 lbs on.) while we and our sister flat-out enjoyed ourselves. As we got older, there was perhaps mild drinking, but no one was wasted, at least on those days.

Later, ours suffered the general atrophy of many American families. We scattered, we each picked up an addiction of some kind (my sister, the luckiest, found ebay), we worked, surviving, barely, yet longing for something with no name. Mine, at least, was a life without form. There were pieces, there were stories. There were many life directions, and there was fun. But that Feeling was painfully absent.

I did what many do – I fashioned a family out of my closest, coolest friends. (I continue to do this.) People need people. And driving to work alone two hours each way to work only to sit in a cubicle for ten hours, then home to eat alone while warily watching your neighbors is no way to foster relationships. American culture is isolating.

I can hear my Dad’s hackles rising. I can hear my brother-in-law’s scorn across the Pacific. I love America. But we’re little people islands – on the freeway, in office buildings, on treadmills with iPods, before a TV, before a computer, on the street, eyes forward, buying groceries online. And it’s only getting worse.

I have cobbled together a great group of friends I see far too infrequently. We have fun when we can, but if you put all of the time we’ll spend together from now until when we die – how much will that be? a week or two? To recapture that feeling, you need a family, a tribe – a pride.

I’ve found that Feeling again in my life. I’m trying to help my friends and family reconnect with it. It’s possible. It’s out there – it never left us – we left it. The first step is to relax. Don’t sweat things. Worry is the polar opposite of the Feeling. Avoid it like the plague. Then surround yourself with your pride. Smile more. Stop, take a deep breath and let the sun/wind/rain/snow wash over you. You’re not in control of the world – let God/Allah/Yahweh/The MCP take care of that. Enjoy the ride.

I recently saw that Feeling in action on a large scale. Hence this long post. My buddy Igor, my family, and I went to a nearby town. My father-in-law’s lion dancing team was hired to come to a village and perform for a couple of hours, to ring in the new year and bring luck and prosperity to the tight-knit community.

Everyone was gathered around the town square, and I mean every single resident of the place. They stood around, smiling, gawking at me and my Eurasian kids, laughing when I took their picture, cheering the acrobatic stunts of the lion dancing and kung fu teams, and, yes, lighting off enough fireworks to alter Earth’s orbit.

It was 80 degrees with a cool rambling wind. (Do you know how rare it is to see blue skies here?) The crowd was keyed up and so were we. Everyone was having a blast, I even started singing Ice Cube’s “Today was a Good Day.” in my head.

After the performances were done, the entire town filed into the square to eat a huge meal together. It’s a New Year’s tradition here. 3000 people, eating a spectacular dinner as one big pride under the dusky blue sky. It brought a tear to my eye. Fireworks followed food and then it was time for me and my small pride to go back to our den, tired and happy as could be, wrapped snugly in the warm blanket of The Feeling. I didn’t even have to use my A.K.

So many days on this trip have contained me asking myself, “Is this Heaven?” And the answer, at each moment, was a resounding “YES.” Because heaven’s not a where, it’s a when, and the Feeling is your escort and host. There you are, old friend – i missed you.

The name of this place was something like “Big World Park.” ‘Twas like Epcot center, an effigy of the world in miniature. The purpose of the park seemed to be to replicate the architecture of the world, without populating it with fake citizens.

Once again, they had a good idea. Their reproductions [...]]]>

The name of this place was something like “Big World Park.” ‘Twas like Epcot center, an effigy of the world in miniature. The purpose of the park seemed to be to replicate the architecture of the world, without populating it with fake citizens.

Once again, they had a good idea. Their reproductions of the look of the American southwest and the churches and temples of earth are spot on, from the outside.

The only trouble is, it was DESERTED. It was like playing the game “Myst,” in which the only puzzle to solve was how to go the bathroom without touching anything.

The only parts that contained any human activity were the animal park and the main stage, where “representatives” of other countries performed for a atypically polite Southern Chinese audience. The animal area was a brutal reminder of circuses before Soleil. This bear could do nothing but stand, face forward, or get choked. The lions and tigers were crammed together with a panther in a cage the size of a small bathroom. Very depressing, but not half as cruel as what happens daily at any area restaurant. Let’s move on.

These guys were wearing jackets labeled “Ethiopia,” so I’m assuming they were imported as part of this world showcase.

This girl was smoking hot. And talented, though I can’t see this having applications in the real world.

Yes, even with the pit sweat.

Amazingly, the longest demonstration in the showcase was of a Chinese Qigong master. For those of you who don’t know, Qigong is chinese for “complete B.S.”

His strength supposedly came from his lifelong cultivation of his internal energy, which apparently prohibited him from doing even one sit-up.

And here I thought the Japanese were the only perverts in East Asia. I’ll let you guess whether he’s wearing pants in the bottom half of this photo.

Another segment was a guy who rode a bide like Tommy Lee did Pam Anderson. He rode it silly. And in the finale, he disassembled the bike while riding it.

There was one other section with activity – the rides. And I don’t mean Space Mountain. I mean the rusty, scary-as-hell castoffs from the 1918 World’s fair, run by people with even less education than the tattooed ex-con pulling the lever on the Tilt-a-Whirl at Coney Island. No way in hell was I getting anywhere near these damned things. But the few people at the park did.

One other thing to note about the park, besides an absolutely immense, though drained, swimming pool: There were many region-appropriate restaurants peppered throughout the park. But in keeping with Rahoi’s law of Chinese amusement parks, they were boarded up, sadly unused, mini ghost towns where strudel, burgers, and flan once were served by girls in costume. The only place to get food was from the ubiquitous stand with dried snacks and two coolers, one for drinks and one for ice cream.

Even still, all considered, it was good times. One of these days, they’ll get it right. I’ve heard that in the summer, this place goes off. I’ll have to remember that when I’m at Magic Mountain with the other half.

When our taxi pulled up to this amusement park in Guangzhou, I almost dry-humped the driver. What could this wonderful world possibly hold for me? i am but a poor sinner with a camera.

apparently there are 5 parts to the park: English Street, an area for kids to learn our wunderbar language. [...]]]>

When our taxi pulled up to this amusement park in Guangzhou, I almost dry-humped the driver. What could this wonderful world possibly hold for me? i am but a poor sinner with a camera.

apparently there are 5 parts to the park: English Street, an area for kids to learn our wunderbar language. Spaceflight Spectacle, an exhibit of Aerospace exploits of China and the world. (China takes credit for a great many things. I didn’t see Goddard’s name once, but then again, I didn’t read everything they had up.) A Movie theater, perhaps playing movies about said exploits. A pond with spinning boats you can rent. No lifejacket required. And a huge hill, atop which sits a replica of the shuttle Atlantis in front of a nasty green waterfall. There’s hardly anything inside the park except these extremely unrelated things.

The first thing to know about Chinese amusement parks is that they’re dilapidated. It always depresses me to no end when I go to a park and there’s one section that’s totally run down, unused, with all of the bright colors ceded to blues, rust, and dirt. It’s an everlasting record of someone aiming too high.

It’s the middle of Chinese New Year holiday. It’s 80 degrees, it’s Saturday, and the place is EMPTY. I don’t blame them – all of “attractions” are neglected and closed. English Street boasts a bevy, including an English Salon and English Karaoke. Instead, they get an alley of State Fair stalls made of planks and flaky paint that no one’s sat in in a hundred years. The only remains are signs posted everywhere with basic english phrases and their Chinese translations.

The only problem is these appear to have been made by someone reading an English text in a very dark room, or through cataracts. Besides the plain mistakes, there are some very curious pieces of clip art attached.

And in some cases, it could be really misinterpreted.

but they’re all great. I wanted to take them down and preserve them. Most are faded, torn, and weatherbeaten, but still legible.

As with all manglish, what in the HELL were they thinking? I wouldn’t dream of writing instructions on Basic Chinese unless I knew for sure what I was writing. I’d check it ten times, pass it by a few native speakers, and only then press print. Either there’s one sick American expat gleefully approving terrible English, or they’re too freewheeling with their laser printers.

I’m frightened of that kid. How long did what last?

isn’t this the opposite of “no pain, no gain?”

Your english su
cks

yeah, I’m not sure either. Of anything.

I arrived in HK safely with my buddy Igor, still fasting and relatively intact.

I never thought eating would fill me with [...]]]> long post means much has happened. I’ll keep it as brief as I can – wife is waiting and kids are finally asleep. Don’t make me spell it out.

I arrived in HK safely with my buddy Igor, still fasting and relatively intact.

I never thought eating would fill me with such trepidation. Nay, let’s call it abject fear. In my mind’s eye, I pictured myself instantly regaining all the weight I’ve lost (111 lbs) in a flurry of tearing clothes and fart sounds. It didn’t happen.

wife was SHOCKED when she saw me. Tatiana didn’t recognize me, but knew me by my voice. She gave me a big, if hesitant, hug. And my 6-month-old son thinks I’m hired help. I caught my wife’s shock on tape. She then spent the next few days trying to convince me to refatten back to 280 lbs. Fat chance! (sorry about that one.)

two great tastes that belong together.

there are many ways to protect one’s yard.

Under “Seasonal Fruit Dishes”, they list brands of cigarettes. “These strawberries taste like grandma’s tracheotomy hole!”

Hong Kong at night wins. hands down.

My nephew is the talk of the town. He is cleaning up in the new year red-envelope-grab.

This sounds like a Sikh Food Fight.

then what the hell is a bargain for?

it’s only a store, fokker.

he’s still the man here. That makes me The-Man-In-Law.

If this reads right to you, try again. All Aboard!

even at my goal weight, I may never be that flexible.

I missed them like one would miss a lung.

what would make someone walk by this bin and say, “Honey? How about we stay in and fry up some scorpions?”

Should the next word be “here” or “elsewhere?”

I wouldn’t dream of it…

Best. backpack. ever. It also doubles as a hamper.

When your product is food, aren’t quality and taste the same exact thing?

northern chinese bum, writes long missive in chalk, expects rewards, gets zero. In the US he’d already have been in two Soundgarden videos.

My expat friend Mark in HK. His Mandarin makes my Cantonese look like your Basque. He took us to the best dumpling place ever.

so what am I supposed to do: get in the way?

i love how the logo is two yellow spheres nestled close together. In fact, I really love it.

Corn with Beacon? You’re insane! And while we’re at it, just toss out a WTF? for each of the other pizzastrosities. And only here would Buttered Toast be in the same category.

That last sentence shits all over English Grammar.

the 80s are IN here, BIG TIME.

I wonder if they know that 361 degrees is another way of saying 1 degree. Well, in a circle, anyway…

Still waiting – okay, wrapping this up…

exercise the power NOW

I might have to get this on a poster – what the hell else do you use your brain for? ballast?

In Mong Kok – the word throng just pales.

This one has it all – a vague yet intriguing command, a little-used-in-Amwerican-English word, and an evocative but mildly disgusting mascot. Good Times.

I leave them for a few months, and my daughter learns an entire language, how to ride a bike, and good manners. I have several bachelor friends who should come here and do the same,

click on pic to watch a short vid (8.4MB) of my darling daughter speaking English and Chinese. The two Cantonese phrases she says are “When are you coming back?” and “I really miss you.” It’s getting a little smoky in here….

First, we had to send affidavits of sponsorship, saying we’d pay for everything. Second, they [...]]]> While oceans of illegals WALK across the Mexican border every year to look for work, hospital care, or a street corner from which to wave at passing SUVs, my precious in-laws must STAY in China for reasons unknown.

First, we had to send affidavits of sponsorship, saying we’d pay for everything. Second, they had to prove beyond a reasonable doubt that they’d come back, by showing assets and a compelling reason to return. Thirdly, they had to endure an interview in which a consulate employee took one look at them, said, “You’ve been to America twice – that’s enough! I think this time, you’re going there for good. Sorry.” And the stamp came down.

Apparently, if you want to visit America, you had better not be Chinese. I don’t blame America for being careful, I’ve seen the crush of Chinese trying to come over here and shun American culture. But my in-laws have been here TWICE and have returned; my father-in-law has traveled the world. Why deny them now?

The real reason might have something to do with this

“Beginning January 15, 2005, the United States Embassy and four consulates in China, as well as United States embassies and consulates around the world, will begin issuing to otherwise qualified Chinese citizens, who wish to visit the United States temporarily for business (B-1) or pleasure (B-2), visas that are valid for 12 months and multiple entries.   The previous maximum validity of U.S. visas for these purposes was six months.”

otherwise qualified? This is complete and total B.S. Longer visas and maybe some 9/11 fallout? I have no CLUE why my in-laws would be denied. And there is no recourse, no appeal. Basically, we’re moving to China. I’m so angry at this system I’m going to protest by spending the rest of my life there fishing bones out of my teeth and picking my nose.

We’re stuck here with a new infant, and no parents to help us out. We also have to take care of the neediest brother-in-law in human history and the occasional monster sighting.

My wife’s old boss, the former MAYOR of Foshan, and one of the richest guys in the entire area, was also denied. This is getting out of control. Rumor is only one out of every 30 applicants is getting a visitor visa. Is this racist? Nationalist? Meanwhile everyone in NAFTA can come here and work illegally, and Euros can come and hang out here until they get sick of it.

Nations have jumped the shark. Come visit me at the Summer Olympics in 2008.