about 1 in 300

Dating Myself

2011-09-03T19:45:00.000-07:00

I feel very tempted to change the name of my blog to Dating Myself. Which is what I've been doing the past 7 years in my search for love. And Carrie Bradshaw and friends thought they had it hard. I suppose I have no one to blame but myself for the predicament I now find myself in--HIV- men are not lining up to date someone who is positive. They just aren't. In the past 7 years, I've had a number of first dates. Fewer second dates. Which is when I usually tell the guy about my status. I can honestly say that I have not had a single third date. Zero. Without exception, they have all fled. Can I blame them? I don't know. I never had a positive man say they wanted to date me when I was negative. Would I have also stopped returning phone calls and e-mails? Would I also have not wanted to deal with it?

Whenever I start feeling sorry for myself I just get out of the house and go on a date. With myself. It sounds kind of pathetic, but otherwise it would just get too damn lonely. So today I went down to the East Village to watch a movie. But not before stopping at Subway where I ordered my favorite steak and cheese on wheat. (I must have been feeling extra sorry today because I also got a bag of salt and vinegar chips.) Then I went to the Sunshine theater to watch Love Crime, a French movie starring Kristin Scott Thomas speaking impeccable(!) French. She's such a bewitching actress. I must say I couldn't understand all the negative reviews. I was captivated from start to finish by the performances of the lead actresses.

Part of the craziness of dating yourself is that you've got to talk to yourself while you're on the date. Otherwise, it's not really much of a date, is it? I think this must be how people start to go crazy. Insanity or loneliness? I think it's a no-brainer.

It Has Been a While...

2011-08-05T00:08:00.000-07:00

It has certainly been a long time since I've posted here. I'm not sure why I disappeared. I think mostly the problem was that I felt I didn't have much to share anymore. I also think that the vast improvement in my health also played a part--I wasn't identifying myself primarily in terms of my HIV. I think I have much to be grateful for.

For starters, my last checkup showed that my numbers are in excellent order. For an HIV+ person, two are important: the viral load and the t-cell count. When I was first diagnosed, my viral load was around 500,000 copies per milliliter of blood. A sick number. For the past several years now, the virus has been undetectable. It doesn't mean the HIV has been wiped out, just that the tests that are used cannot detect it. HIV has been shown to hide in reservoirs of the human body, but an undetectable test means the virus is being kept at bay. The t-cells are the cells that fight off infection. In the average healthy human, this number should be anywhere from 500 - 1500. My t-cell count at the outset was 185, which is technically AIDS. I am happy to say that this number was at 1590 a few weeks ago. I love it when my doctor tells me how she is always impressed by the recovery I've made.

This summer I've been playing tons of tennis. I joined the gay tennis group here in NYC and even played in two tournaments. I NEVER thought I'd be fit enough to do that, but never say never. I've had decent results, but more importantly, have made some of the best friends I've ever had.

Gosh, it feels nice to be typing away in blogger again. I think I'll come back soon and share some more happiness.

Sermon for May 30 - What is Compassion?

2010-05-31T20:20:00.000-07:00

In a nutshell, the willingness to feel someone else's pain. Yeah, OK, how many of us are willing to do that? Hell, I don't want to feel my own pain much less someone else's. This of course bodes ill for the world. With so much pain to go around, how do we go about alleviating it through means that are not chemical or iPhonic related? With so much pain to go around, is it any wonder that most of us are addicted to something like alcohol or nicotine or just about anything that allows us to escape that pain?

Still.

Does the willingness to feel someone else's pain actually help that person? And here the good reverend insisted on a hard and resounding YES! On the condition that said willingness go beyond mere words. "Oh, I feel your pain!" and "You must be going through hell!" just aren't going to cut it. Words are cheap. The only real words are actions. Compassion has to be able to transform suffering. At the same time, we have to take responsibility for our own lives, respecting the lives we've been given.

How are you going to be an agent of life and love to someone this week?

Tonight's Sermon - What is Essential?

2010-05-09T20:11:00.001-07:00

Tonight I went to the evening service, which I actually prefer because the night air seems to calm everyone down and there's a sing-along before the service starts. No one has to rush off to some afternoon dim sum thingy and most everyone stays for coffee and chit chat upstairs.

What is essential to life? What do we need? What do we need to make us happy? I guess someone has to ask these questions because they're certainly not being asked in school and work and the political spheres which only take up nearly 100% of our living lives. Why is it that these questions aren't being asked in the places where we spend most of our waking hours? That in itself is a telling state of our society. What the good Reverend was saying tonight is that the answer changes based on our situation. True, that. I remember 6 years ago when I first found out that I was HIV+ that all I needed was to know that I wasn't going to be dead in 2 years time. Once I got that answer, then I needed a job. Then I needed a job that would actually not drive me crazy. Then I needed my Dad to not be sick. Then I needed my friend to get better. With our "needs" changing all the time, it's no wonder we're all kind of a little cuckoo and so hard for others to read.

All we need is the grace of God, knowing that we're loved and that we're forgiven for being less than the perfect creatures we are. The problem is that most of us couldn't care less about some distant God and simply want to be loved and forgiven by the people we're surrounded by. Loved by our friends. Family. Boss. Colleagues. Forgiven by these very same people for all the silly and serious mistakes we make. So the challenge tonight was to be an individual who can love and forgive. And if we could all do that, then maybe earth could be a kind of heaven. What we really need is the capacity to be this kind of person. This is what we should pray for. This is what we should try to achieve. To have a godly spirit that knows how to love and forgive.

Sermon for May 2 - Loving Others

2010-05-02T22:24:00.000-07:00

It's been months since I've posted an entry, and for good reason--I realized I don't have much to say anymore. It's been more than six years since I found out about my status and I think I am very lucky to still be alive and where I am. The biggest change in my life is that I have started going to church again. It's a congregation of predominantly gay individuals who have decided that they're not going to let their sexuality come in the way of a relationship with a Divine Being. Sure it's hard to square what the Bible says about being gay with being a Christian, but the Bible also mentions that it's perfectly OK to have slaves, too. We'll ask God the hard questions when we get to heaven.

Today's sermon was about loving those people we just can't stand. Lord knows there are a couple of people like that in everyone's life. The minister challenged us today to make a conscious decision to care about someone like that. More often than not, what prevents us from loving someone is that we spend too much time being infatuated with our own selves that we can't see anyone else. Like the beautiful boy Narcissus from Greek mythology, we fail to hear others, too caught up in our own images. Like the nymph Echo who loved Narcissus, we're unable to express what we really feel. Love is not about mushy feelings, but about believing in the potential of someone else. That got me thinking as to the last time I tried to believe in someone other than me. It's apparent I need to start trying a lot harder.

Sing Out Loud

2009-12-10T10:40:00.000-08:00

I love this kid. Why can't we all sing with such passion and innocence?

Why Worry

2009-11-29T16:42:00.000-08:00

Over the past few days my friend has managed to sit up and actually get her throat to make out words and sounds. Her left side is still quite weak, but through rehab it looks as if she's going to have good mobility. I am grateful.

Why worry?
There should be laughter after pain,
There should be sunshine after rain,
These things have always been the same.
So why worry now?

I Am Sad

2009-11-23T21:46:00.001-08:00

The sadness of the past three days has been a tsunami. I am drowning in this indescribable sadness. Catching my breath only makes me grow crazier. I just want to rip all the breathing and feeding tubes out of her body and hug her. I want to take her to get her hair and nails done and make her look like her old pretty self. I want to hear her voice and her laugh. I want my pain to stop. I want to stop crying.

Accident

2009-11-21T19:49:00.000-08:00

I have been in a state of shock for the past two days. One of my closest friends in the world was in a major car accident on Friday. I got a call from her secretary asking me to come to her office and help out. Of course. But I couldn't wait to get out of that office and run to the hospital.

11 hours in surgery. I was crying a lot of that time. I get antsy when I have to sit on a plane for 11 hours, but now my dear friend was fighting for her life. When the surgeon came out, he calmly explained. How her brain had been pushed all the way down to her neck. How her neck was broken. In two places. How the metal plates in her neck would stay with her for the rest of her life. The dreaded question. Was she paralyzed? He wouldn't know until the next morning.

I came home and cried. I cried for so many reasons. I cried because of all the pain she must have been in. I cried because she just had a baby. I cried because I could walk. Because I had a neck that was working. I cried because I felt afraid. I just wanted to crawl into a protective hole and never have to come out and face the world again.

I went to see her again tonight. I had to look for the person in the bed, hidden and covered by all the tubes coming out of her. But the nurse said she had movement in her arms and legs. But that the right side wasn't responding as well as they would like. She couldn't speak. I called out my name. She barely opened one eye. I had to turn away.

My beautiful friend. She has a baby and a husband who need her. If I could trade places with her, I would. Life is so sad sometimes.

What a Day for Yuna and Michelle!

2009-11-15T15:12:00.000-08:00

Straight off the bat, two of my favorite sporting figures won today. Yuna Kim, the figure skater, won Skate America with a world-record performance in the short program and then a disastrous (for her) skate in the long. But the combined score was still 13 points greater than the second place finisher. And Michelle Wie finally won her first title on the LPGA Tour through all the noise and criticism of her detractors. How do I tie these two together?

Yuna has been on top of the world for quite some time now, certainly since last March when she won the World Championships for the first time. Since then, the media and her fans have placed a 100,000-pound paperweight on her shoulders called "PRESSURE". Today she succumbed to it. But still she smiled for the cameras during the interview. Good for her. As I have learned all too well in the past six years, you learn so much more from your mistakes than you do from your triumphs. Victory is great but it doesn't force you to reflect. To look at yourself in the mirror and ask what it takes to make yourself stronger and happier.

Michelle, after having won a USGA title at the age of 13, would find herself winless for six years. Until today. What a monkey she gets to hurl off her shoulders. So many people derided her as a fluke, a fake and even a floozy. (People say the stupidest things on the message boards.) But still she trudged on, and now, at the ripe old age of 19, she has a win on the most competitive tour for women in the world. And she beat the top-30 players on the money list doing so. Tuning everyone else out. Ignoring the crap. About how you ruined your life and are not worthy of love. And that's what Yuna needs to do today--let this loss go and not let it block her energy. And just like Michelle, she'll find herself in a better place tomorrow.

2nd UGH! Posting In As Many Days

2009-10-31T15:23:00.000-07:00

OK, so let me just sound like a middle school girl for a few days here. Today I was supposed to meet up with someone at 2, someone I met online. I waited until 2:15 without so much as a text message informing me that the date was canceled. I duly left.

At 5:30, I get a text message saying "It's not an excuse, but I just slept all day." I canceled with two other people to meet this person, also HIV+. And I thought all HIV+ people were punctual, courteous, brilliant and handsome. Guess not!

Falling in Love? UGH

2009-10-30T21:45:00.000-07:00

I can't believe I am this infatuated over a guy I met exactly twice. He doesn't even live in New York City and he has been happily married for seven years, but now I can't get him out of my head and it is bothering me. Crap. I am still communicating with him, but have no intention of telling him how I feel. That just wouldn't be right. The way I'm feeling is not right.

In brighter news, the US will begin to admit HIV+ individuals into the country starting next year. It's hard to believe that HIV+ individuals were ever excluded from entering this country yearning for oppressed people, but it is true. Thank God America will no longer be part of a club of nations, Armenia, Brunei, Iraq, Libya, Moldova, Oman, Qatar, Russia, Saudi Arabia, South Korea and Sudan, that excludes HIV+ people from crossing into their borders.

Even if Korea were to change their laws, I don't think I would ever go back again. I think that part of my life is now buried forever.

Give Her the Gold Medal Already

2009-10-18T22:24:00.000-07:00

The Olympic figure skating season started this weekend at the Grand Prix event in Paris. Yu-na skated two nearly flawless programs. The short program had her skating as a Bond girl; in the long program, courtesy of Gershwin, she was the young lady seducing and being seduced on a night out on the town. Yu-na won both the short and the long, setting a new world record for both long program and overall score. Just magnificent!

The Sermon on Sunday

2009-09-20T21:28:00.000-07:00

"What you have doesn't change who you are. Who you are changes what you have."

Words of wisdom from my minister today. She's awesome!

Help Cheronda, Help Help Cheronda....

2009-09-15T23:05:00.000-07:00

Cheronda Guyton, former senior vice president for foreclosed real estate at Wells Fargo, who was recently fired for moving herself and her family into one of those foreclosed properties in Malibu, CA (asking price: $12 million) for several months (for free!) this past summer, this song's (with apologies to the Beach Boys) for you:

Help Cheronda! Help, help Cheronda!
Help Cheronda! Help, help Cheronda!
Help Cheronda! Help, help Cheronda!
Help Che-ron-da, yeah! Get her out of our hearts!

Forgive Them, For They Know Not What They Do

2009-09-11T11:08:00.000-07:00

I cannot imagine what Caster Semenya is going through right now. This is the South African woman who has been tearing up international track races in recent weeks. Medical tests confirm that she has an intersex condition. How can something so profoundly personal have been handled in such an insensitive manner by governing track authorities and the international media? Most people would go ape shit if you went through their laptop. This incident was an invasion of the most private parts of a person and yet countless people are trampling through her body like a pack of rabid dogs, on the Internet so that everyone in the world knows, for crying out loud. My heart aches for her.

I remember the time I told a "friend" about my HIV status when I had first found out. He was the only one who knew. A few weeks later, an acquaintance walked up to me in a club and asked if I was really HIV+. I felt so vulnerable and violated. I hate what happened to me that night because a part of me would never trust anyone in the world ever again.

Whatever happens to Caster Semenya, I hope she can find it in herself to overcome. And forgive.

Goodbye S

2009-09-05T14:51:00.000-07:00

My friend S died last week of a brain tumor. He was 29. I feel so hollow. Life is so random. Last week I marveled at how the smallest things could make my day: a 3 year-old child who decided to bestow a smile on me; a Starbucks barista who refilled my coffee for free; someone who steadied my balance as the subway came to a screeching halt. And today, I hear the news that S is gone.

S ate more than anyone else I knew, relishing every last bite. He could devour four packages of ramen noodles in one sitting. The last time I saw him at the hospital, he gobbled down the hospital food for crying out loud. S was an avid snowboarder and skiier. He loved going to baseball games. When he laughed, he laughed out loud and silly.

If I had known I would never see him again, I would have asked him for his snowboard.

I don't know how to snowboard.

A Summer of Writing

2009-08-26T21:11:00.000-07:00

Screenwriting, I'm discovering, is like going into a maze and then trying to find your way out. There are lots of dead ends, but the exercise is never boring. Having finished three stories already, I am at this point where even the writer's block feels good because I know I will find the way out. That is a terrific feeling. At any rate, this is the first story I've written where I've had to do a lot of first impression research. I recommend any of the following books and movies that have thus far accompanied me on my journey of vampires:

1. Blood, An Epic History of Medicine and Commerce by Douglas Starr
-----everything you wanted to know about blood, eminently readable

2. Police Procedure & Investigation by Lee Lofland
-----truly fascinating read that will make CSI and Law & Order that much more comprehensible

3. Twilight (yes, Twilight!) by Stephenie Meyer
-----better than the movie, though I did like the soundtrack

4. China, Its History and Culture by W. Scott Morton and Charlton M. Lewis
-----the vampires are Asian

5. Thirst, directed by Chan-wook Park
-----a vampire story that explored vampirism, love and religion (much campier than I thought it would be)

6. Buffy
-----I was never a fan when it aired, but a friend lent me the DVDs and I have to say I can see why Sarah Michelle Gellar was a star in her time

I hope everyone is having a great summer!

One Sickness is Better than No Sickness

2009-07-27T20:38:00.000-07:00

I just finished reading Benjamin Hoff's The Tao of Pooh. What an awesome little book it is. Where it is written that it is better to have one sickness than no sickness. To have one sickness means to be aware of it and to take care of yourself accordingly; to have no sickness entails the risk of not taking care of your body at all. Being HIV+ has certainly forced me to take a lot better care of myself than I did before I knew. There's a reason to be thankful for everything--even sickness--in life.

My 4th Story

2009-07-14T22:02:00.000-07:00

Last week I saw Blood: The Last Vampire, mostly because I wanted to take in Jeon Ji-Hyun, aka Gianna in the States. I had seen the trailers quite by chance and was stunned to hear her speaking comprehensible English. This was a girl I had once interpreted for when some Singaporean reporters came to Korea to interview Korean actors and actresses. Her command of English back then left something to be desired, so I was pleasantly surprised to see her really carry the movie. (Roger Ebert, in his review, said that he would watch anything again that featured Gianna.) Unfortunately, the movie itself was far from brilliant. And that got me to thinking, why not write a better vampire story? Right after dinner tonight, I headed to Starbucks and fleshed out the story. After two hours, there it was, on two pages of lined 8.5 x 11 paper--a tragic tale of love, redemption and vampires! I never would have thought that I had this story within me, and am really looking forward to the challenge.

I Heart Project Runway Korea

2009-06-11T15:43:00.000-07:00

I miss Korea. There's just no denying it, and a show like Project Runway Korea makes me wish even more that I could still be there. I never got to see the waterway that now runs through Seoul. I never got to take a ride on Korea's high speed train, either. But a show like this makes me so proud to see just how far Korea has come since I first stepped foot in the country in the 1970s.

I am a huge fan of the American original. I thought the Canadian version hosted by Iman was, dare I say it, a bit more fabulous, thanks in no small part to what Iman brought to the show. But I have to say I was not disappointed by the Korean version. Hosted by Lee So-ra, one of Korea's premier superdmodels (I think she placed second in Elite's Look of the Year in Korea) (who I also saw trashed out of her mind at a bar in Itaewon one night with singers Uhm Jung Hwa and Koo Bon Seung), PRK showcased some really talented people. Many of the challenges were taken from the American show, but one of my favorites was when the designers had to create a look inspired by a world famous designer. I was so surprised to hear these young Koreans (a few of whom had never traveled abroad) speaking so intelligently and knowledgably about designers like Rei Kawakubo and Dries van Noten and Alexander McQueen.

Unlike the American version, there was very little cattiness. Overall, the atmosphere in the workroom was congenial and cooperative. In other words, the best of what makes Koreans Korean. I suspect that a few of the male designers were gay (not to mention their Tim Gunn-host) but that was never really touched upon. In this show, the focus was clearly on the clothes, not on personal dramas.

For all you die-hard Project Runway fans, here's the link if you want to download some, or all, of the series. It's only 10 episodes, and they're not subtitled in English, but you get a great glimpse into the Korean fashion aesthetic.

http://aja-aja.com/regular/project-runway-korea

10 Pics from Peru

2009-05-22T19:23:00.000-07:00

The light playing tricks at Sacsayhuayman, Incan military training grounds near Cusco

From horseback, a view of dogs running wild above the hills of Cusco

Somewhere on Day 2's killer, 8-hour hike to Machu Picchu

Trekking through 3 different ecosystems on Day 2 of the hike

Another glorious view of Peru on Day 2

Putting faith in one of several rickety bridges on Day 2

On Day 3, climbing one of the four imposing ladders, on the way to the top of Mt. Putucusi

At last, on Day 4, a view of the llamas grazing the terraces of Machu Picchu

On the grounds of Machu Picchu

An aerial view of Machu Picchu from Wayna Picchu, a nearby mountain

Peru

2009-05-17T21:00:00.000-07:00

I am back in Cusco tonight after a four day trip to Machu Picchu. In a way I feel I have returned to my hometown. And for that reason I feel sadness at having to leave the city tomorrow to head back to New York. Of all the countries I have visited in this world, I can safely say none match Peru in terms of physical beauty. I will post some of these pics very soon. What I won´t be able to post is the real kindness I received, the genuine affection that I have come to develop for some of the locals. I will truly miss the people at Hotel Ninos. They made me feel like family my entire stay. But there were others, too. Sebastien, who led me on horseback above the hills of Cusco. And the Korean owners of the only Korean restaurant in Cusco. And Victor who helped plan my trip to Machu Picchu. And then there were the people who accompanied me on my journey. 2 Danes, 2 Canadians, 4 Israelis and 1 Brit. Who introduced me to Stieg Larsson and discussed Peter Hoeg with me. Who made me feel like I was much younger than my 40 years. Who taught me that life in Israel is difficult but that hope must prevail. Who hiked every single treacherous trail with me. Who made me laugh so much of the way, made me feel connected to the world. I wish I could bring all these people back to New York.

I am so thankful that I was able to make this trip in this lifetime. The memories of the mountains, of the clouds, of the hot springs where people from all over the world gathered, I will guard these in my heart forever.

Who knew there would be Internet cafes all over Cusco?

2009-05-13T20:11:00.000-07:00

And that they would be so cheap? For a dollar you get an hour and a half worth of time! OK, since I am not planning on spending an hour and a half here, I´ll just give some general comments.

1. I am singularly impressed by the gentleness of the locals here. On top of that they look you straight in the eye and smile when you say hola.
2. I am staying in a hotel called Ninos Hotel. You can find it at http://www.ninoshotel.com/. Please check it out if you can. I am so humbled by how much one person can accomplish.
3. Yesterday I hiked to a place called Sacsayhuyman, pictured above. You can read about it at Wikipedia, but you had to be there to experience the vibe it gave off. It was truly electric.
4. Today I went horseback riding above the town of Cusco. I will post those pics when I get back. To see the mountains under such a clear blue sky, dogs and horses running about, to feel the sun beating down, it was all so peaceful. But I also had a personable, adorable 19 year old guide. Between my Spanish and his English, we laughed for three hours. I hope I am not walking like a cowboy tomorrow.
5. Tomorrow I am starting a four day biking and hiking trip to Machu Picchu which will mark the end of my time in Peru. I am planning on coming back again so if anyone wants to join me next time, you´ll have someone as a guide.

I hope everyone is doing well.

A Day at the Movies

2009-05-10T19:57:00.000-07:00

Well, tomorrow is the big day. I didn't know there was going to be so much work in planning a trekking trip to Peru, but now that it's done I can't wait to get on the plane. And speaking of trekking, I went to see the new Star Trek picture today, desperate to catch it before I left. I don't really see a need to review it because either you already saw it on Friday or aren't planning to see it at all. I loved it! It was everything I hoped it would be and more, on account of all the unexpected humor. A lot of people in the audience were clearly loving it as much as I was, clapping when Leonard Nimoy appeared on screen (how time has flown) and again when the credits started rolling.

During the previews was this little trailer for Pixar's latest, Up!, that stars an adorable sounding, chubby Asian kid!!! How awesome is that. It seems like Pixar really did their homework on this one, tapping into the Asian stereotype of the kid with the book smarts who doesn't always know how to apply his knowledge to the real world. I can't wait to see myself in this movie!

Watch the Trailer on Yahoo! Movies

Raining in NYC now

2009-05-05T21:09:00.000-07:00

In My Life

2009-04-30T20:21:00.000-07:00

Everyone approaches middle age in a different way. My old boss went out and bought a motorcycle (there really are people who do this) and a Maserati for good measure (not many people can really do this.) Given my HIV, I am fairly certain that I have already passed middle age. That I seem to think a lot about Greg and Doug these days who are already gone seems to be another indicator. My doctors have assured me that I should live out my natural life span, but no one knows the long-term effects of the meds I am taking. On the other hand, it's been five years now and I consider myself really fortunate to have suffered no serious complications or side effects. At any rate, my response to 40 in a few weeks has been to plan a trip to Machu Picchu. It's one of those places I always said I would go to--and then made an excuse not to go because no one would go with me. To be honest, it was scary buying the tickets which in hindsight, was all the more reason to do it. This will be the first time I ever visit a place where I know absolutely no one. Where I will be alone. But I've also heard that Peru is full of backpackers who come alone. Is it that they're more adventurous? More solitary? More middle-aged? I guess I'll have something to figure out when I'm there.

Golden

2009-04-25T16:09:00.000-07:00

I was so sad to read about the passing of Bea Arthur this weekend. I only knew her as one of the Golden Girls, but I'm not sure I would have wanted to have known her as anyone else. She was so funny, so witty, with a look, a line. The way she lost her patience with Rose's ridiculously unbelievable St. Olaf stories, the way she shot down Blanche's tales of the lost South was some of the best comedy you ever saw. I loved, loved, loved the episodes where she sang. Impersonating Cher. Mr. Sandman. The Miami is Nice song. And then there were the episodes where she took a stand. Supporting pregnant teen mothers. Dispelling ignorance about HIV. Insisting that there is life to be lived in your Golden Years. I can't believe she's gone. It will be so strange watching reruns of the show knowing she's no longer alive. For many nights last year, watching the Golden Girls at 1 a.m. was the last thing I would do before going to sleep. It was like having a slumber party with some of your best buddies. Why do I get the feeling it just won't be as much fun anymore?

Susan Who?

2009-04-13T21:43:00.000-07:00

If you haven't seen this woman sing yet, click on the link!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9lp0IWv8QZY

Duck Beats Tiger

2009-04-12T21:22:00.000-07:00

Given that the Masters was played over Easter weekend, perhaps it was only fitting that Argentine Angel Cabrera, 39, nicknamed El Pato (The Duck, cuz he kind of has the walk and belly of one) won the tournament for his first green jacket. Oh, I was aching plenty for Kenny Perry who probably lost his last, best chance to win a major at age 48. But then I remembered Cabrera's back story--the kid who grew up so dirt poor he had to drop out of elementary school to earn money to support his parents. And how could you not love him when after his US Open victory in 2007 he said, "Other players have sports psychologists; I smoke."

Nor was Angel shy about voicing his opinion last year on the LPGA's ridiculous (thankfully, short-lived) policy that would have required the women golfers to learn and speak English or be barred from playing on the tour. Angel, who understands some English and speaks little, was offended. (He gave his victory interview in Spanish with the help of an interpreter.) A player should be judged by her ability to swing the clubs without the threat of an English exam hanging over her head.

I will look forward to seeing Angel year after year after year at the Masters. No, he won't be chain-smoking his way down the 18th fairway the way he did at the US Open, but I'm sure you'll hear El Pato's quack loud and clear in future Augusta appearances.

FELICITACIONES, ANGEL!!

We All Start Somewhere

2009-04-05T00:07:00.000-07:00

One of my stories is going to be turned into a film!!! OK, so it's a student film, and it's only going to be 15 minutes, but one of my stories is going to be put on film! It will shoot next weekend, and the student/producer has asked me to be the Script Supervisor, which means I will get free food throughout the shoot and a chance to shadow the director and learn camera angles. I am so excited!

So what's the story? One Good Guy meets One Girl on the street, recognizing her as the girl he has a crush on from Facebook. But she's not the girl he thought she would be. Sad. Tired. With marks of abuse on her face. Her boyfriend, One Bad Guy, makes his appearance. As luck would have it, One Bad Guy and One Good Guy have one bad history.

One Bad Guy and One Girl are in a restaurant. She asks how he knows One Good Guy. One Bad Guy wants to know how she knows One Good Guy. The pathetic, dangerous need to constantly demonstrate power and control culminates in a very public slap across One Girl's face. She gets up and staggers out of the restaurant.

One Good Guy has been observing from across the street. He now runs across the street and takes her hand. The two set off running, with One Bad Guy giving chase. He overtakes the two and gives One Good Guy the thrashing of his life. One Good Guy bleeds on the sidewalk with One Girl kneeling by his side. One Bad Guy laughs and leaves.

One Good Guy and One Girl lie side by side in bed, fully clothed. The blood on his face still drying. The tears on her face still drying. Allowing a bond to form. The knowledge of what it is to be beaten, physically and mentally, by One Bad Guy. A gentle, confused kiss.

One Good Guy and One Girl sit on a bench in the park. Wondering where they go from here. One Bad Guy comes around with a knife. One Girl tells him to put it away. There's no need for violence. Because she'll walk away with him. Leaving One Good Guy all alone with a broken, fearful heart.

Where Do We Go From Here?

2009-03-28T12:59:00.000-07:00

God, I am so sick and tired of all the news about corporate bonuses and greed and mismanagement. Barack Obama, for all his good intentions, has no real solutions. Seriously, how do you fix a financial system that is beyond monetarily broken and well into being morally bankrupt? How much more money can you keep printing before it starts to look like the bills of a Monopoly game? How much of that money can you possibly snort before you realize you are asphyxiating the developing world? How many more rules and regulations can we possibly weave only to see the entire web blown away by a sneering sneeze from the Bankers of the Universe? How many more classes in ethics and compliance can these bankers be forced to take before we rescue them from a coma?

It makes me wonder.

Imagine no possessions, I wonder if you can
No need for greed or hunger, A brotherhood of man
Imagine all the people, sharing all the world

Part of me thinks there's no way John Lennon could have really believed this. I mean, really. It makes for a nice pop song and a great awwwww.... moment, but who in their right mind would think about giving up all their possessions? If he were alive today, wouldn't he be living with Yoko in their penthouse apartment in Manhattan? Would he really be a man without any possessions? I am not attacking John. I'm just wondering if he could really have relinquished the hundreds of millions of dollars that he would be worth today were he still alive.

Is there a way we could create a world without any possessions? Or would that be a world of sheer animalistic instincts, of survival of the fittest where the weak get gunned down or hacked to pieces with machetes? Or is that the world we're living in right now?

Where Is He?

2009-03-21T20:18:00.001-07:00

OK, I know I've said that I liked the cute/geeky type on this blog before, but I must say I would not mind a sports-minded type who could watch baseball with me over a brewski. Korea is dismantling Venezuela 10-1 through the sixth inning in the semifinals of the World Baseball Classic tonight. I am loving it. I might be loving it a little more if someone was watching with me. Korea Fighting!

OMG, Look How Kawaii Ryo Is...

2009-03-20T12:37:00.000-07:00

I blogged about Ryo Ishikawa before. He missed his first cut playing at Riviera a few weeks ago, but he is well on his way to playing the closing rounds at Copperhead in Florida this weekend. How frickin' adorable is he standing there AKIMBO? And LOOOOOK at his golf club covers!!!!! He has a cover that looks just like HIM!! And he has another one that looks like a BIG, BAD gopher!! I just want to give Ryo a BIG HUG!!! He's so cute I can't stand it! Too CUTE, too KAWAII!

Anoop Dog!

2009-03-17T21:06:00.000-07:00

For those of you who have never had a migraine, I highly recommend not having one. The one I just had put me out of commission for half of Saturday, all of Sunday, ALL of Monday and half of Tuesday. My last dose of Anacin wore off 8 minutes ago, and I am praying that I can sleep tonight without it. Last night, I had to cry myself to sleep. Partly from the pain, but I'd be lying if I didn't also say partly from self pity. There is nothing, nothing, nothing fun about a migraine. OK, so what can I blog about tonight that won't require more than 15 brain cells? American Idol!

After not watching for a couple of seasons, I am hooked again. They've just got a great cast of singers. My favorites are Anoop Desai (love, love, loved his rendition of Willie Nelson's Always on My Mind), Danny Gokey, Scott MacIntyre and Megan Joy. But I wouldn't be upset to see Allison, Kris, Matt or Michael win either. I am pretty sure it will come down to Danny and Someone Else. You heard it here first! OK, dear readers, that's about all I have in my head tonight. I sign off listening to Patsy Cline's rendition of Walking After Midnight which Megan sang terrific tonight!

180 + 180 = Right Back to Where I Started From

2009-03-10T22:15:00.000-07:00

A day after Warren Buffett told the world that everything was going to be all right, I feel so comforted. I think that's something that I miss about having a partner--hearing someone tell me that everything will be all right. I don't know if I attribute it to loneliness or desperation--it can't be both!--but the two dates I went on last weekend weren't exactly filled with what Carrie Bradshaw once termed za za zu.

The first guy was last Friday. 5'9, 180, Asian. Face pic only. I should have known, but I dared to hope. I smiled my Botox smile--the one that freezes and doesn't know what to do with itself--when I saw: the most perfectly round, potroasted, pot belly. We had coffee, and covered our common interests over the course of twenty minutes. So... call me, he said. At the twenty-first minute.

The second guy was on Saturday. The one I went to see the movie with. In the pic he'd sent me I could tell he was about 180 as well. What I didn't realize until I met him in person was that he was only 5'5. J.T., meet Steroid Smurf. We walked into the movie theater and all the boys were staring at him. As we settled in to watch the unwatchable Watchmen, Steroid Smurf wasted no time in grabbing my hand and having hand sex with me. Painful hand sex. Steroid Smurf insisted on cracking all my knuckles. Bite down hard. But then. Squeeze my muscles. What? Squeeze. Uh, you want me to squeeze your bicep? And now my tricep. Oh. My. God. As if the movie weren't bad enough, now I was being forced to engage in this bad, bad, bad whispered-cringingly-in-the-dark dialog with a Saturday morning cartoon charater gone terribly wrong.

I want to meet someone reasonably cute/geeky. He should be height/weight proportionate. He should share my love for movies and bookstores and tennis and golf. Please Santa, I can't wait until Christmas.

Questioning Warren Buffett

2009-03-09T11:41:00.000-07:00

"Everything will be all right. We do have the greatest economic machine that man has ever created."

"We're in a big war, and we're going to use money to fight it."

"If you don't trust where you have your money, the world stops."

Oh Mr. Buffett. How could you? When I really do like you. You are exactly what a nice, happy, next-door grandfather should look like. I suppose you had to say these things today because that's what everyone expected you to say. But we are in a crisis brought about not through some faulty mechanism in a money-making machine but a human nature that evolved over thousands of years to its present state of Net Worth = Personal Worth. If the greatest economic machine the world has ever known brought us to our current state of dismality, how great could the machine have been in the first place?

Well, let's just use more money to make it great again. So we can all end up where we are at the moment again and again and again? What does it say about the world we live in when the money-making machine says the single greatest thing you can place all your hopes and dreams in are pieces of paper with the words U.S. Treasury Bills printed on them? (By the way, I don't think it's a coincidence the words "In God We Trust" aren't printed on T-Bills.)

Have people become machines that register an error sign when they try to place trust in other people like SEC regulators and Bernie Madoffs and Alan Greenspans? And if we can't trust those people, how can we trust people like our parents and friends and colleagues and even nice grandfathers like you? Are the faces of dead American presidents destined to become the only things humans can plug into and interface with? How can we create a world where money isn't the biggest problem we're always trying to solve?

Watchmen

2009-03-07T22:35:00.000-08:00

One reason I love watching movies at the theater in Chelsea is that the seats are comfortable and the crowd is cute, the viewing experience, a quiet one. Tonight, there was something else altogether: chemistry. All thanks, of course, to the movie being shown on the screen: Watchmen. In a word, Don't. (Watch. It.)

The anticipation in the theater was palpable. It was a packed room. We were all there for an experience. At 2 hours and 45 minutes, it better be an experience. Ten minutes into the movie, the guy next to me was fast asleep. I am not making this up. (He awoke on his own.) I expected people would need to go to the bathroom during this movie. I had to go once myself. After an hour and a half, I thoroughly enjoyed the trip, and made sure that I took time to admire the urinals and wash my hands and dry my hands under the dryer (twice), and check my messages, and grab some water at the fountain (in the hopes that it would make me go to the bathroom again).

Back in the theater. I settled in and waited for the movie to get better. We all did. In the darkness, you could have reached out your hand and felt the confusion. When was the movie going to get better??? No need to look into the eyes of the person next to you. Just reach out and touch. The sense of loss. The befuddlement. Time slowly (very slowly) slipping away. But at last the credits rolled. And still we sat. When was the movie going to get better??? The lights came on. But all you could see were looks of concern. Is your brain still in one piece? Are the muscles in your eyes functioning correctly? Please don't leave me behind in this place.

On the escalator going down the two cute boys in front of me were whispering. Weren't we supposed to like this movie? I summoned my courage and whispered to them. It sucked. They looked behind, slightly startled, the way you always are when you hear the truth. It sucked, I repeated. They murmured, still too shell-shocked by what they had witnessed. As we all left the cinema house, the slight chill of the New York City wind embraced us in one final moment of bonding. Not that it was necessary. We all had the scars to show from our terrible battle.

Is President Obama the One... for this Job?

2009-03-03T22:38:00.000-08:00

I have no deep thoughts to share on this question. I am simply wondering these days if he is the right person to lead us out of this financial quagmire. Is it just me, or does he seem to be missing from the news these days? Has he been drowned out by the numbers? Unemployment? Retail sales? Home sales? Billion-dollar bailouts? His days of speaking to large crowds in the stadiums seem to be a thing of the very distant past. Today, telling Americans that it was a good time to buy stocks, he sounded, dare I say it, rather ordinary.

(Hilary Who? I don't know anyone these days who's talking about foreign affairs. It's a pity that she was roped into taking Secretary of State. At the very least, I think she should have been given another chance to tackle health care. I think she could have been doing so much more were she still in the Senate today.)

I was not thrilled to hear President Obama recently stake his re-election chances on the success of the stimulus package that just passed. It seemed like a tactically incorrect thing to say. Like he was taking his eye off the ball. You never take your eye off the ball. Unless you can't see it in the first place.

What's Going On?

2009-02-28T22:07:00.000-08:00

Sitting in the barber shop today, I was randomly thumbing through a magazine when a quote came flying off the page like a paintball and splattered itself all over my brain. At the very least you would think it could have gotten my memory going again (I don't know where it is these days), but no, here I am, forced to paraphrase: "A lot of people are on to the emptiness; it takes real guts to acknowledge the hopelessness." My barber was still working on the head of a four-year old, so I allowed myself to ponder.

What does it mean to be courageous in these trying times? Does it take courage to admit we are living in a hopeless world? Are we lying to ourselves when we claim the world can be a better place? Here we are into the 21st century, at the pinnacle of scientific and technological advancement, and yet according to the World Bank, half the world's population, 3 billion people, are forced to subsist on less than $3 a day. The Ivy-League banking brains on Wall Street found a way to trash the world's financial systems, and yet, they couldn't find a way to simply clear away the garbage that rots in mounds in the slums of Mumbai and Nairobi.

I am trying hard not to be cynical, not to be negative. I guess it doesn't help that the HIV clinic I have been going to for the past five years told me I couldn't come anymore because they've lost a lot of their funding on account of the financial crisis. We're bailing out the banks and the insurance companies and the automakers to the tune of hundreds of billions of dollars, but I can't see my doctor anymore. Will someone please tell me that this calculates correctly? That this all somehow makes sense? I can't make sense of this world anymore. I'd hate to think it took me this long to figure out that it's not supposed to.

These are my Brother's Doggies...

2009-02-26T21:59:00.001-08:00

The one on the left is a Bichon Frise. The one on the right is a Maltese. Aren't they adorable?

Alison Des Forges, Human Rights Activist

2009-02-21T22:24:00.000-08:00

Coming home on the train tonight, I gasped out loud. More than once. Stunned into disbelief. I was reading this week's Economist, came across the obituary, and there she was: Alison Des Forges. Alison was a human rights activist who devoted a great part of her life to highlighting the plight of Rwanda, from its days as a European colony to the genocide in 1994 that cost the lives of up to 1,000,000 Tutsis and moderate Hutus.

I was fortunate to have met Alison on a number of occasions when I went to law school. I had helped arrange for her to speak on campus about the Rwandan genocide. You couldn't really call the way she spoke "speaking". She fired off her words. About how Rwanda was too far away, too poor and too black for any Western government to give a damn. I would have sat there completely mesmerized had I not also felt embarrassed to see how few people had shown up to hear her. She later graciously accepted another invitation to speak, this time at a hearing on women's rights violations. She stood on a stage in a darkened auditorium before 200 people. But who needed a spotlight when you had such an aura of moral authority? She was an angel who had been placed on Earth to help and cry out for those who couldn't. Her tiresome campaign to raise awareness of Africa led to a MacArthur fellowship in 1999 and a senior advisor position with Human Rights Watch.

Alison was one of the passengers on the plane that crashed near Buffalo on February 12. All 50 people on board killed. Like everyone else, I saw the story on the news. But had I not bought that Economist at Penn Station tonight, I would never have known that Alison had been on that plane. She was only 66. I still can't believe that she's gone.

I Don't Know Anymore

2009-02-20T22:55:00.000-08:00

Lost in the hustle of this week's edition of life in New York City was a phone call I received from a friend in Korea last Sunday. He was calling about "H". Some of you know my back story, but for those who don't, suffice it to say when I was deported from Korea for being HIV+ I arrived back in America with the clothes on my back. I asked my friend "H" to clean out my apartment, but all he did was clean me out. Nine years I had lived in Korea, and I never saw any of it again.

Never say never.

My friend was calling me to let me know that he had found H. And that H apparently still had some of my things. My friend asked me was there anything I wanted? Something he could bring back for me? I was stunned. I didn't know what to say. I wanted to say Nothing. Why would I want anything when I'd replaced it all with a perverse pride in being able to ruthlessly forget? It only took me five years to become world-class in this discipline. Even as I pathetically hoped for a cure. A change in Korea's immigration laws. Anything. Something. That would allow me to go back. That would give me a needed reprieve from constantly having to dream at night, only to wake up exhausted. I wonder if he still has my pictures, I muttered. Your pictures, he asked as if to confirm, but his voice was fading, rippling away. I've long acknowledged that I can't recall faces, let alone names, anymore. I've had to find happiness in splintered images. Why would I want to see any of it whole again?

Finding out about my HIV status was a pivotal event in my life. It was the event that marked "the before" and "the after". For some people that event is getting married. Or having children. Or losing a parent. But it's more than an event. It's an event horizon. The point at which even light can no longer pull away from the force of a black hole. The point where it's not supposed to be possible to look backward anymore.

Sometimes I'm Glad I'm Not a Girl

2009-02-18T14:56:00.000-08:00

I guess I was the stupid one for even bothering to click on the link, but once I did I was blinded by the greatness of the article, courtesy of Cosmopolitan, that bastion of wisdom for the girl who has got it together. I mean, really, how stupid can an article get? (I had to post the link because otherwise I could have been accused for making up this garbage.) It said to ask yourself four questions to determine if your man is a keeper or a tosser. And here they are, the four questions that shed so much insight into the human condition we should all find ourselves evolved into a totally different species by the end of the year:

1. Is he the jealous type?
2. Is he a cheapskate?
3. Is he afraid of commitment?
4. Is he trustworthy?

So what I want to know is how in this mess of a world would this test work? Well, my guy is TOTALLY jealous and he's a TOTAL cheapskate and he's TOTALLY afraid of commitment, but he's trustworthy, so I guess I need to take another test that's so TOTALLY NOT inane.

Or perhaps...

He's SO not jealous (I mean, he wants to share me with his other friend... awwww... how sweet is that?) and he's SO not a cheapskate, but he's TOTALLY afraid of commitment and he's SO not trustworthy so that means.... uh... that means.... he's a keeper? No, wait, he's a tosser, like oh my god! I TOTALLY don't KNOW!!!!!

Is this the kind of crap that American women read on a monthly cycle? Who needs Al Qaida to terrorize us and Religion to save us when we get two for the price of one in this month's edition of Cosmo???

Guess What I Did For Valentine's Day?

2009-02-14T23:28:00.000-08:00

1. I counted all the Valentine cards that I got in the mail. (Did you know that it takes no time at all to count to "0"?)

2. I waited for someone to return my call so that we could go out and have Valentine's Day Dinner. (Did you know that Cold Soup at Home is one of the easiest meals you can prepare on Valentine's Day? I'm going to can it and market it and sell it to recoup my losses. [See next item.])

3. I opened the box of chocolates that I bought to give to that person who never returned my call so that we could go out and have Valentine's Day Dinner. (Did you know that eating twenty chocolates in a row can give you a bad stomach ache?)

4. I bought 2 movie tickets online, you know, one for me and one for that person who I was going to give that box of chocolates to if he had ever called me to go out and have that Valentine's Day Dinner! (Did you know that movietickets.com is the quickest and easiest way to buy movie tickets, allowing you to avoid the hassles of crowds and lines at the movie theater?)

5. I stayed at home and wrote this post. (Did you know that the sound of a breaking heart is quite hard to hear because the rest of the world is shouting out to you, "LOSER!"?)

Drive Away All the Hate

2009-02-12T20:12:00.000-08:00

I don't always get the lingo of the younger generation. The stuff that I do get can annoy the hell out of me. Like when young Asian-American kids try to speak ghetto and use terms like "a'ight" for all right. That is so frickin' annoying. It's almost as bad as when, years ago, everyone was saying "word" to express amazement or agreement or whatever it was they were trying to express. THAT. WAS. FRICKIN'. ANNOYING.

One word that I DO love that I hear young kids using is "hater", as in "Don't be a hater." I just love that expression. It beseeches you to not be negative. To stop being a jerk. To make the right choice and start showing a more loving attitude. "He's such a hater" is one of the worst things I could probably say about a person. So what brought about this post? My girl Michelle. That's Ms. Wie to the rest of you. She's the phenomenal 19 year-old Korean-American golfer whose star shone bright early on, fizzled a bit, but now burns strong and true again as she enters her rookie year on the LPGA starting today in Hawaii. In the years she didn't play so well, I'd read the sports blogs and message boards, angered and shocked by the amount of poisonous negativity people chose to dump into cyberspace. How could 50-something male golf writers so publicly mock and humiliate a girl who could just as easily have been their daughter? How could so many bloggers, both male and female, write shit like she had raped Nike out of $10 million for being a slut who could drive it 300? Did it make them feel more manly and secure? Did it make them feel less jealous of the very real things she had accomplished? Whatever it was, there were a lot of Michelle haters out there.

Michelle, now a sophomore at Stanford, is playing at Turtle Bay in Hawaii this week. In her very first tournament as a full-time LPGA member. She just finished her first round and finds herself in a tie for second. She may not win the tournament this week. But I hope she does. But even if she does, I doubt that would stop all those haters out there from hating her. Seriously. Don't be a hater. I love saying that. It makes me sound cool. Chyeah!

The Most Gorgeous Guy...

2009-02-11T17:44:00.000-08:00

These things only happen in the movies, but today it happened to ME in the supermarket. I totally just bumped into the guy, in the dried seaweed aisle at the local Korean supermarket. (Dried seaweed gets its own aisle, believe it or not.) Anyway, 5'10, 170, totally muscly, effortlessly beautiful hair swept off to one side. I thought he saw me, but apparently he didn't so that's how we ended up running into each other. The thing was, he kind of took hold of me with both arms and then looked into my eyes. Those piercing eyes!!! Oh my god, I was mentally drooling. And then he smiled!!! The most perfect set of white teeth ever. Now I'm melting like a Wicked Witch, absurdly fretting if the supermarket manager is going to yell at me for making such a mess in the dried seaweed aisle. I'm sorry, he said. I'm not, I replied. You're not, he laughed. Did I say that, I gulped. You did, he said. I'm sorry, I said. I'm not, he replied. You're not, I laughed. Did I say that, he gulped. You did, I said. I'm sorry, he said. And so and so on until... do you think I could get your number, he said. My number, I said. Your number, he said. My God, I said. What's wrong, he said. I don't think I can remember my number. Well, in that case, he said, let me write my number instead. And then he took my hand and wrote his number on my palm. He winked one of those devastatingly dark eyes, drew me close and whispered in my ear, call me, I think you're hot. And then I woke up to the sound of my alarm, cursing the world for being so cruel.

Ask a Blogger #11

2009-02-09T14:21:00.000-08:00

OK, this is a game created by a guy named AJ, at his blog AJ's Ramblings, and here are the rules:

1) Blogger 1 posts a question on his blog. 2) The first person to comment on said Blogger's post needs to post a comment directing readers to his/her blog, and then becomes Blogger 2. 3) Blogger 2 answers Blogger 1's question on his/her own blog (so Blogger 2's blog). 4) Blogger 2 posts a question on his/her blog. 5) And then the new Blogger repeats step 1-4.

(I feel this is so chain-lettery, lol, but I liked the question that Blogger #10 posed, http://gaymaskboy.blogspot.com, which was: Where's the most romantic place you'd like to go with the love of your life? And where's the most exciting place you'd like him/her to take you? Why?

Well, I don't have a BF, so this question really stirs up the imagination. Hawaii was a beautiful place, and I went to the Bahamas a few years ago. I don't think you could go wrong with any tropical island. But I think I would like to go back to Kenya, a country I visited about 12 years ago. Kenya seemed to combine the endless possibilities of romance and adventure and peace. I won't ever forget riding a jeep on the wide open plain, the wind ripping through my hair, the sun beating down, as we chased the zebras, gawked at the giraffes and marveled at the family of elephants. From my hotel window, the sun would sink in a glorious sky of melting colors. In the evenings you knew the Earth was a living creature, as you sensed its heartbeat and were made to feel like a cherished visitor. Good food, mellow wine, the warm night embracing you all at once. All this I would like to experience again with the one that I love.

As for the most exciting place I'd like HIM to take me, how awesome would it be if someone would take me to his parents' home and introduce me as the one he loves. I'd love to be able to sit down to dinner, and have stimulating conversation, and be part of birthdays and anniversaries and family celebrations. To be there in good times and bad times. I think that would be pretty exciting.

The next question I'd like someone to answer is: Who was the last person who made you feel better on a day when you were feeling totally depressed? Please describe why you were feeling sad and what specifically the person did to make you feel better.

I Smell Something Foresty Here...

2009-02-07T15:33:00.000-08:00

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Eric Roth, the guy who wrote the Oscar-winning screenplay for Forest Gump, has given us a very Curious Case to say the least. You see, he's also the writer of this year's blockbuster Oscar nominee The Curious Case of Benjamin Button. Before I saw Button, I'd heard that it was quite a bit like Forest Gump. As I ogled Brad Pitt in scene after scene, the similarities somewhat eluded me, maybe because Button seemed to ring so hollow. It wasn't until I saw this video that I started cracking up.

So what was going through the mind of Eric Roth? Was he consciously plagiarizing himself, trying to catch that storm in a teacup again? Or does a writer, at some level, simply tell the same story over and over again? A curious case, indeed.

Where Do You Want to Be Buried?

2009-02-04T21:39:00.000-08:00

After all the health problems my father went through the past few weeks, I seriously thought that I was going to be planning his funeral. Thank God I can put that off for now. My mother and I discussed where he should be buried, as my father has indicated no preference. There's a cemetery out in Long Island that many of our family's Korean acquaintances are buried at. But that seemed far away.

My next door neighbor had his wife cremated and kept her ashes over his fireplace for 10 years until he passed away at the age of 88. He said he missed her all the time. I used to think that was kind of creepy until I realized how much I was going to miss my father when he was gone. (Of course, I could die first and then this post would all be moot.)

I think, as a general rule, people want to be buried in a place that they feel close to. For the longest time I thought I wanted to have my ashes scattered over a mountain in Korea, or over Korea's western coastline where I spent some of the happiest summers and winters. But having been away from Korea for over 5 years now, I am acutely aware that my heart isn't as close to those places as it used to be. At the moment I would have to say that I want to be buried next to my parents (which will probably be somewhere around New York City) since they have become my best friends and supporters. I told my brother as much (and I kind of hope I die before he does because I think it would be so sad to be the last surviving member of my immediate family.)

Maybe one day I will meet someone who loves me as much as I love him. Then I think I would want to be buried next to him. Of course, death can come at any time so there's no guarantee where I would end up.

I read the other day that in about 2.5 billion years, our Milky Way galaxy will collide with the Andromeda galaxy and when that happens there won't be any Earth anymore and everything buried on this planet will revert to being the stardust from which we all came. In middle school we learn that the heaviest element the sun can produce is helium. But not many bother reasoning that over 90 elements on this earth--many of which are in our bodies--came from somewhere outside our solar system. I think that's kind of spectacular--that we are all made of stardust that floated in from somewhere far, far away. And that one day we'll be back out there roaming the universe until by some miracle we come back to life once again.

It's The Housing Problem, Stupid

2009-02-04T15:11:00.000-08:00

I just don't understand what all these highly-educated people in Washington are doing with all this money, when they really need to be doing ONE thing with all that money: STABILIZE THE HOUSING MARKET! I don't have a degree in finance or economics or business, but I do know that the problems started when average people back in 2006 were no longer able to afford $500,000 houses with $50,000 salaries. In short, the housing bubble burst.

Every day, I read online or watch CNN or MNBC and these so-called experts are trying to offer "clues" as to where the market may be heading, looking at retail numbers and manufacturing numbers and whatever other numbers. The only number that REALLY needs to be watched is HOUSING!!! Until average Americans know what their house is really worth in this market, no one is going to spend a dime. Plans for home rennovations will be scrapped. Maor purchases will be put on hold. College educations may have to wait. For most Americans, the house is their biggest asset, and when there is so much mystery surrounding the true worth of your most important asset, or even worse, when there are so many signs that the value of that asset continues to plummet, there is just NO CONFIDENCE to spend and loan any money.

For example, Obama has earmarked $6.2 billion for home weatherization, claiming that this will put people to work. I'm sorry, but which American homeowner is going to embark on a major home weatherization project in these times? Who can afford to throw thousands of dollars at a home weatherization project that might not recoup its value?

STABILIZE HOUSING!!!!!! A man's home is his castle. In America's case, housing is the foundation on which everything else is built. I remember back in 2005 when real estate was going through the roof, everyone was talking like they were millionaires. Taking out home equity loans to buy that second BMW. Go on vacation. Expand the business. Whatever. Now that homes are worth considerably less than what they were only three years ago (NYC just LOWERED its tax assessment of my house! Seriously, government NEVER lowers these numbers!), people are feeling a lot poorer.

The best thing the government could do with $900 billion is to have Fannie and Freddie buy up all these toxic mortgages and cut off a few percentage points for the borrowers. Force banks to make housing loans so the ONE-YEAR glut of NEW HOUSES still on the market starts disappearing; until those houses go, there will be constant downward pressure on housing. This is 7th grade economics! And then throw the banking architects into jail so that this problem does not repeat itself. Greed is a Hydra with a million heads that refuse to die--actually, even worse, because Greed is not mythological. This is not to say that the myriad of programs Obama wants to shore up are not worthy. They are. But he's putting the cart before the horse in his recovery strategy.

Really, these guys in Washington and on Wall Street are so clueless as to how Joe Six Pack lives and thinks. Stabilize housing. People will get a grip on what they're worth. They'll spend accordingly, and the economy will take off from there. God, it's really not that difficult.

I'm a Fan of Roger Ebert

2009-02-02T12:53:00.000-08:00

Growing up, I was a fan of Siskel. Siskel was the nice man, with the nice smile, the easy way of talking and glints of good nature in his eyes. Ebert, the pudgy one, was of course, the mean one. The sour one. The one liable to be judged based on his mediocre looks. As long as Siskel gave his thumbs up, I didn't really care what Ebert thought.

When Gene Siskel died from complications of brain cancer in 1999, I was living in Korea and shocked by the news of his passing--you never expect someone to die at the age of 53. (He died on February 20.) And I wondered how Siskel and Ebert would continue. But it did. With a number of guest hosts until Richard Roeper stepped in and the show was renamed Ebert and Roeper. I think I saw maybe one or two episodes of Ebert and Roeper.

At some point I started reading Roger Ebert's reviews online. At first, for just the current batch of movies. But then, as I realized how great his writing was, I started reading the reviews for all the movies I had ever seen, and even for movies I hadn't seen. I read them for the insight they provided not only into the movie, but into the human condition and recently, into Ebert's own soul. The reviews aren't very long. Just long enough to say something meaningful and hopeful, and when the movie sucks, comical. And then I started reading his essays. On politics. On the sadness he felt when Siskel died. On how his own bout with cancer made him a lot more human. I began to really, really like Roger Ebert.

Ebert recently wrote an article about an emotion he dubbed Elevation, the feeling of uplift that's created when you see a good person doing a good thing. You hardly see many stories on the news, especially these days, that produce this feeling of Elevation. I wanted to post something today that would have been elevating. But after scouring the Internet, I kind of gave up. Which is how I ended up writing about Siskel and Ebert.

I will reveal a corny dream of mine: I dream of getting a four-star review from Roger Ebert someday for one of my screenplays. He gives out lots of 3-stars, and you know the movie was really kind of mediocre if it gets anything fewer than that. But he doesn't give out too many 4-stars. I think getting 4-stars from Roger Ebert would be even better than getting an Oscar.

A Message For Education Secretary Arne Duncan

2009-01-29T19:59:00.001-08:00

I doubt anyone was paying attention to anything you were saying today because the only news that made the news was that Wall Street execs gave themselves $18.4 billion in bonuses last year. You know, so they could all buy waste baskets that cost $1,405 and credenzas that cost close to the GDP of Lesotho. But for the record, you did say, "If we want to stimulate the economy, we need a better-educated workforce. That’s the only way, long-term, we’re going to get out of this economic crisis."

Frankly, I'm just appalled by these words. A better-educated workforce? I'm sorry Mr. Duncan, but WHAT THE ~~FUCK~~ PLANET ARE YOU LIVING ON? Have you not been paying attention to the fact that the investment bankers who got us into this economic mess, that might ultimately end up costing $4 trillion to clean up (if you believe NY Senator Chuck Schumer), all went to Harvard and Yale and Stanford and got their MBAs from Harvard and Yale and Stanford? How much better-educated do we need our financial leaders to be to get us out of this economic crisis? Better educated than Harvard and Yale and Stanford? Are we not already in a financial hell hole? Or do you not understand this because you yourself went to Harvard and can't afford to offend your classmates? This economic crisis did not happen because our leaders were POORLY EDUCATED, you idiot! It happened because those Harvard-educated minds got twisted by pure unadulterated greed that obliterated all notions of morality and ethicality and legality.

With the government spending $800 billion on this new stimulus package, you'd think there'd be enough money to buy the new Education Secretary a clue.

Now, if the argument you were making was that a lot of the money in this stimulus package is going to help poor, underserved kids in inner-city neighborhoods and keep their teachers from being fired (never a popular sell in Washington D.C. with the Republican assholes), then have the balls to say so. Don't confuse the American public into thinking that it was a lot of stupid people that got us into this mess. Immoral, unethical and criminal, all yes. Stupid? Definitely not. After all, it takes a lot of brains to cause a $4 trillion mess and then find a way to reward yourself for it to the tune of $18.4 billion.

John Updike Is Dead

2009-01-27T12:11:00.000-08:00

And with him, goes a piece of me. In all honesty, I can't say that Updike's style of writing ever truly won me over. Too spare, too intellectual, too Waspy, too many things that taxed my average intelliegence. But secretly I admired him for speaking a language I could never grasp. Rabbit Run was one of the first novels that I ever read in high school and did not enjoy but was proud to tell all of my friends that I had actually read. Ironically, "Rabbit" Angstrom, with his constant search for truth and peace of mind, has turned out to be a character I appreciate more as I get older.

We live in a day and age where words seem to count for so little. Where numbers are the new words, and all that matter anymore. How old are you? How much do you make? What zip code do you live in? What's your portfolio worth? Will this $825 billion stimulus package do anything more than recapitalize the banks that got us in this mess in the first place? John Updike stood for the integrity of words. Words that soared, and sometimes sunk, but always captured the complexity of human nature. America is infinitely poorer off without him today. I hope it takes a moment to remember.

Happy Ox!

2009-01-26T11:07:00.000-08:00

It is finally the Year of the Ox! And according to the Chinese zodiac, I'm in for a very good year! Looking back on my experiences, I can definitely say that some of the best guys I ever dated in Korea were the Ox boys who were four years younger. The Ox were the slow, but steady ones. Solid and reliable. You make plans with them and they never back out on you. They work hard and laugh easy.

The Year of the Ox is supposed to be one of hard work and reflection. A time of rebuilding. This year I'm supposed to have 10 favorable months and 2 neutral ones. I can say that January has turned out to be favorable. I am enjoying work, and have recently been making exciting headway with my screenwriting. I have met two new guys (a couple) who have been really fun to hang out with. Dad's health is doing much better. Just four weeks ago, none of this was true.

I don't want to say I'm superstitious, but I do know that life has its ups and downs. And if the 5000 year-old Chinese civilization wants to tell me that this year will be full of ups, who am I to throw away that fortune cookie?

BARACK OBAMA: I WILL NOT RUN FOR SECOND TERM!

2009-01-24T14:34:00.000-08:00

Three days into the new administration, President Obama held a news conference stating that he was sick and tired of being the President of the United States and that he would serve out his current term and then retire.

"I will be able to make more than $3,000,000 per speech on the speaker's circuit. Michelle has already signed a half-book deal with Simon & Schuster for over ten figures. If she goes ahead and writes the whole book, she makes thirty figures. Our daughters already have dolls who look just like them. We're working with Miley's people to do a movie, a book, and a television show. We'll be set for life," the President said.

When asked if he didn't think he was disappointing the American public that had worked so hard to elect him, he replied that he would be even more exposed and available to the public if he rejoined the private sector.

"We don't like living in the confines of the White House. It's a nice place and all, but it's really not a fitting environment in which to raise a dog. The dog can't poop freely on the White House lawn, and I was told we'd have to do Easter egg things on that lawn. We've tried and tried to remove the oldpeople-Bush-stink from the air, but no amount of Febreze has been working. There's only so much you can put up with."

Tourists passing in front of the White House were interviewed for this piece. Asked how they felt about the President's decision, they said, "Awesome! That's so great! That's interesting! Yeah..."

Bashful Prince

2009-01-22T19:20:00.000-08:00

How do the Japanese come up with these nicknames for their stars? I'm sure there's a reason behind the name Bashful Prince for 17 year-old Ryo Ishikawa though I couldn't find it, not in English anyway. This frickin' adorable megastar in Japan is going to be playing at least 3 times in the States this year, on a sponsor's exemption at Riviera on February 19th, on a PERSONAL INVITATION from ARNOLD PALMER in March and then a SPECIAL EXEMPTION to THE MASTERS in April!!! Basful Prince? Try Freakish Phenomenon! The older I get, the more absurd, more beautiful, more inspiring the force of youth becomes. I haven't seen him play yet, but he could be the golf story of the year. I cannot wait...

John Thain is Now Free to go to Hell

2009-01-22T10:53:00.000-08:00

Poor John Thain lost his job today. I blogged about him before, but I didn't know how correct my sentiment was when I said that Merrill's CEO John Thain deserved a one-way ticket to a lake of fire. Q4 numbers have just been released for Merrill Lynch, and it turns out they lost $15.31 billion. Billion. Billion. Billion. Say that fifteen billion times and you will start to get a feel for how painful it is. Of course, lots of people at Merrill still got their year-end BONUSES last year for LOSING $15.31 billion. It turns out Thain's office also got a $1.22 million facelift when he became Merrill's CEO. ($1405 for a wastebasket!?!?) I'm sorry, but that borders on sociopathic behavior. With the median price of a home in America hovering at around $250,000 (and plunging), no one in his right mind should renovate his office at a cost of $1.22 MILLION. If this is how we're going to spend taxpayer money, why not just pay off people's individual mortgages?

Bye bye John Thain. The bad news is you're probably going to hell. The good news is you're not going to be lonely there.

So What Happens Next?

2009-01-20T15:23:00.000-08:00

He said the right words. With all the right tones. But we've always known that Obama could deliver a speech. Now comes the hard part. Delivering on all his promises. The older I get, the more I realize that words are like the waves of the ocean. Ebbing and flowing with the tides. Real, but elusive, and never quite what they seem. Good ol' adages don't get more trite than "actions speak louder than words". They also don't get truer.

My initial reaction to the Inauguration, believe it or not, was one of foreboding. As a student of Russian history, Obama's fumbling of the oath recalled the coronation of the Russian Czar Nicholas II in 1896 when the chain of the Order of St. Andrew fell from his shoulders in an ominous sign. (The Dow plunging below 8000 was another.) The parades, the balls, the luncheons and dinners--all in excess of $150 million--at a time when people are losing their jobs, their homes, their health insurance, their educations seemed a bit, well, excessive. Again, there was a parallel to Nicholas and Alexandra. When hundreds of people, including women and children, died in a stampede at a celebration of Nicholas' crowning, the Emperor and Empress chose to dance at a ball that very evening, giving rise to criticisms of heartlessness.

Obama came to power with a mantra of change. I really want to like this President. I really do. But so far, the only change that I've seen is the way he raised money for his campaign through the Internet, something no other President had done before. I've seen his picks for his Cabinet. They're mostly people from the Clinton era. No change there. He's had to hedge his promise to end the war in Iraq right away. That's not a good change. And now he's about to embroil us in Afghanistan for the next five years, an issue he managed to effectively skirt on the campaign trail, but which endorsement now seems not just a little disingenous. (Did the Russians getting their asses kicked by the Afghanis in 1980 not teach us anything?)

I doubt I'm raining on Obama's parade. After all, I'm just one voice. No one's going to hear this amidst the throngs of cheers and cries of jubilation. But tomorrow those sounds will be gone. And the sounds of the stock market crashing will continue. I remember people genuinely liked Bush when he was elected to his first term. Honest. Approachable. Folksy. Down-to-earth. These were the things people were saying about him. Today he looked like an old, defeated man disappearing into the cold, winter day. I seriously hope Obama gets through his tenure in better shape. As much as he stood for a symbol of change today, I can honestly say that I honestly don't know--nobody knows--what he will stand for tomorrow.

This Is What I Was Talking About in my Previous Post...

2009-01-19T11:49:00.000-08:00

I can't argue that the Canadian Broadcasting Corp. stole my idea for their new series "Canada's Next Prime Minster" because as far as I know I have never had any contact with them, but their idea of a reality show to pick Canada's NEXT TOP POLITICIAN is one that I had conceived quite some time ago. Of course, my idea was a joke mentioned during the course of a dinner, not a serious idea pitched to television producers and executives. But all this is neither here nor there. It was only a matter of time before Project Runway met the Political Process.

If the challenges are set up realistically and correctly, I am sure this show will highlight what political novices are able to accomplish given limited time and resources. In other words, this show will be exactly like the U.S. Congress, but with one major exception. The word 'limited'. At the rate Congress is printing out money, we may have to ask Zimbabwe for advice on how to print out a $100,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000 bill. (I guess we'd have to put Bush's face on the currency.)

The danger with this type of program is that politics will now have officially entered the rarefied world of Paris Hilton and Jessica Simpson and all the other schlocks who came to fame through reality TV. Is nothing sacred anymore? Is our democracy turning into IDIOCRACY? Or am I overreacting? Is this show nothing more than a platform for Alex Trebek to be the next Senator of New York State? Governor of California? Antichrist of the World?

OMG, Barack Added Me on MySpace!

2009-01-17T10:32:00.000-08:00

I am becoming very annoyed with the way the media is portraying Obama. It's beginning to feel that McCain was right--that Obama is nothing more than the biggest celebrity in the world. Is this the way that people want to see him, or is this the media's perverse idea of packaging and selling? The inauguration has taken on the air of a Publisher's Clearinghouse sweepstakes where the Prize Team drives up to your door with videocameras, balloons and the oversized invitation informing you that YOU WILL GET TO MEET THE SAVIOR! I am sorry. You can crucify Obama on Capitol Hill with a crown of thorns, with Bush and Cheney hanging on crosses on either side of him, but that man is not going to save anybody. And when he does not, we are all going to go into lynch mob mentality demanding that McCain be set free from the Senate prison.

Politics has become one big reality show. Is there really any difference between Project Runway and Politics as Usual? On Project Runway, the designer has two days and $200 to make an evening gown for the new First Lady. On Politics, the senator has two years and $700 billion to create an economic rescue package for America. At the end of the challenge, several contestants will be given the auf wiedersehen. As Heidi Klum says, "One day you're in, the next day you're oblivion."

This country needs to come to its senses. There are very real issues out there but you wouldn't know it. Who cares that Zimbabwe is imploding? That Afghanistan has gone to hell? That Eastern Europeans are freezing to death because of lack of fuel? The media must think people are no longer able to digest real news, which is why they keep giving us baby food crap like 'How well will Obama dance at the Inauguration?' Or maybe it's time to pull the plug of life support from the media.

This Is Me Before (130 pounds)...

2009-01-15T23:38:00.001-08:00

My pet peeve is diet commercials. Diet products. Diet books. Oprah, any time she starts going off about her weight. I would seriously like to see her do a show about people who just can't gain weight. Did it ever occur to her that these people might be suffering problems of image and self-worth as well? That these people are frustrated by the lack of small size clothing? That it's humiliating to be told to go to the boy's department when you are pushing 40? That people don't take you seriously because you are in fact, the size of a growing boy in his teens? Do skinny people have anyone to blame other than themselves for allowing themselves to remain a perpetual chopstick? I suppose not. I just think it's time we had our own show on TV as well called The Biggest Winner. We could weep as we no longer get sand kicked in our face at the beach. We could cry as we no longer get trampled in gay bars during happy hour. We could stand up with pride in our faces as our bony asses sit down and claim ALL of the narrow New York City subway seat that the big-assed mommas next to us are trying to encroach on.

And this is me After... (to be continued)

And Speaking of Indians... Just Let Me Live to 2013

2009-01-13T23:54:00.000-08:00

Every now and then, especially when I feel down, I look at the picture of this man, Dr. Sudhir Paul. A scientist at the University of Texas at Houston, Dr. Paul and his team last summer discovered what he claims is the Achilles Heel of the HIV virus--a part of the virus that does not mutate. Dr. Paul engineered something called an abzyme that binds itself to the non-mutating site of the virus and destroys it. In lab tests with animals, he has met with consistent success. The next step is to start testing in humans, but that's only if funding becomes available. And even were money to become available, he said that it would be at least five years before his research would be able to help humans.

I wonder what I would do if I were free of HIV. Would I live abroad again? Would I stop being afraid of approaching guys? Would I dare to fall in love? I know I am very lucky, lucky to be living in a country that affords access to HIV meds. That allows me to keep hoping for better times. Better times that might arrive in 2013. I'll be waiting Dr. Paul.

Thank God for the Indians...

2009-01-12T18:26:00.001-08:00

...'cause otherwise there wouldn't have been any Asians represented at the Golden Globes last night. Seriously, the producers of the show couldn't have found one Asian-American to at least present an award (since none of them were up for any)? For that matter, last night looked very white, with the exception of one black guy, Eva Mendes and Selma Hayek, if I recall correctly.

Of course, a few of my Asian acquaintances today were sounding off about how Indians are not really Asians. Oh boy, you know there weren't any Indians around when that was being said. I did have this conversation with a couple of Indian doctors at a dinner party recently, and they voiced their disapproval about how they are often not considered to be Asian by other Asians. To be sure, Indians certainly don't look like East Asians. But after I saw last year's The Namesake, I was surprised by how very 'East Asian' Indian home culture was.

Back to the problem of no Asian-Americans at the awards show last night. There just don't seem to be many Asian-American actors working these days. I can think of John Cho. Sandra Oh is a Canadian. There's always Margaret Cho. I am striking a dead zone here... Ah yes, Rick Yune had a couple of movies and I thought he was going to break out, but since Die Another Day, haven't seen his face around. OK, there are the two actors from Lost but I don't follow that show. Too bad the show I did follow last night, up to the very end, didn't showcase any Asian-Americans.

3 Reasons to Love January

2009-01-11T13:24:00.000-08:00

1. Professional golf starts up on TV again! (I am aware that this could be a reason why I can't find a BF... I have never met another gay guy who gets into golf as much as I do.) Anthony Kim is such a cutie pie, too.

2. Professional tennis starts again! The Australian Open is probably my favorite of the Grand Slams. I get to see Australia, one of my favorite places on earth, on TV and it's nice to see that it's summer somewhere on this planet while it's freezing cold here in NY. And I relish staying up until 3am to watch the matches live.

3. The Golden Globes are tonight! I love movie award season for the sheer pageantry of it all. After seeing Slumdog Millionaire yesterday in Chelsea with Ed, I now know why people have been hyping it up and why it will win Best Movie at the Oscars. Revolutionary Road might be more in line with the high-minded tastes of the Academy voters, but hey, if Shakespeare in Love can win Best Picture, Slumdog can as well.

Hangin' With Mom and Dad

2009-01-09T21:43:00.000-08:00

Tonight I finally watched this documentary on the Korean War that I had been meaning to see for some time. Mom, Dad and I made it a night with microwave popcorn, pillows and peaches. (I am not trying to be alliteratively cute here--I really did have some canned peaches to balance the saltiness of the popcorn.) Anyway, I knew what to expect before the DVD went on--Mom was going to tell me all of her war stories, and Dad's too, as if I had never heard them before. Tonight I didn't mind. I let her bask in her storytelling.

About how she as a young teenager escaped from the Communist North under gunfire to reach the safety of the South; how she had been separated from her mother for more than three days and how against all odds they reunited by the train tracks.

How my father had been imprisoned in the South, charged with being a North Korean spy; how a Japanese soldier with the U.N. helped uncover evidence to prove that he was a civilian; how he wrote letters on old newsprint to American schools asking for an academic scholarship.

The documentary wasn't the most stimulating. But that didn't stop me from feeling.

Life is mysterious; life is miraculous.

My Heart is Breaking

2009-01-07T21:40:00.001-08:00

Here I am living far away in New York, and I am weary of the Mideast conflict that never seems to end. But in Gaza it has finally ended for many. In the loss of homes, schools, places of worship. And of course, life. As a human being and a citizen of this world, I feel it is incumbent at the very least to try to understand the conflict. But of course I cannot, much in the way I don't understand all the animosity between the Indians and Pakistanis, and the British and the Irish, and the Spaniards and the Basques. Is there any point in trying to understand when those closest to the conflict say to me, "Oh, just stay out of our business, you'll never understand." Is that what we're supposed to do? Just mind our own business? Watch on helplessly as millions of lives get displaced and destroyed? Is death the only solution to discord?

Embarrassed Again To Be an American

2009-01-06T17:29:00.000-08:00

So we're finally closing Guantanamo. After more than six years. And now we're asking the rest of the world to offer asylum to prisoners we said were so dangerous that they couldn't be released, or tried in a court of law. For six years. I don't know if this amounts to chutzpah, or stupidity, or arrogance. It's certainly unfathomable. There very well may have been dangerous people imprisoned at Guantanamo. On that point I'm in no position to debate. But for America to convey to the world that these people were the worst of the terrorists out there, and then demand of Australia and Europe to take them in, give them housing, jobs, health insurance and citizenship, and then pretend that the last six years never happened is more than criminal. It's illogical. It's immoral.

Questions

2009-01-04T07:10:00.000-08:00

This year I am determined to figure out the answers to some important questions. Namely: who? what? when? where? and why? As in, who am I going to tell about my HIV status? What exactly am I going to divulge? When, where and why is this information being shared?

Though I often tell myself that I really don't need another person in my life, the truth is I have been wanting to get married since I was 25. I have had two boyfriends, but this was before I was HIV+. Since becoming poz, not a single guy has been brave enough (or honest enough) to take me on as I am. In the five years I've been in NYC, I have found myself usually telling someone I like about my status on the second date. I can honestly say I have never had a third date with a guy in over five years. This year, I am determined to get to a third date. So perhaps the most important question, the one I omitted above, is HOW?

I have been given a dazzling array of advice over the years, everything from "Tell him right away" to "tell him after sex the first time" to "tell him only after you are officially dating". Most people say the timing should be somewhere between "right away" and "before sex". But frankly, it's terrible advice. I can't remember the last guy I told about my status who wanted to have sex with me, and I intend to have sex again before I die. I am leaning toward "after sex the first time" (but taking care to have safe sex). Of course, I'm not sure if that's quite honorable either.

Of the guys I have told about my status before there was any sex, they all invariably exude gratitude. Which is nothing more than a cheap mask of relief. Whew. Glad I avoided this guy with HIV. For once, it would be nice if a guy could just take my hand and tell me that it's OK. That everything will be all right. That did happen once. Over five years ago. But he lived in Hawaii, and amazingly, we still communicate from time to time and I even went to visit him there once for 10 days during which time I thought that was the happiest I would ever be in my life. I would like to feel that happiness again. The question is how. And who? And what, and when, and where? What I don't want to ask is "why" anymore.

Answering the Challenge to Write a Happy Post

2009-01-02T15:56:00.000-08:00

Psh... one of my readers Luuworld challenged me to write a happy post, as if I couldn't write a happy post. Well, here it is. First off, today Dad was discharged from the hospital. But not before waiting 9 hours for all the insurance paper work to clear. In the meantime, I was wanting to eat a little more than the hospital food. So I crossed the street and went to the corner diner that I had been wanting to see for some time. I absolutely love, love, love diners. They are cozy, warm and unpretentious. The waitresses call you "honey". The cooks look like they learned how to cook in the military. The customers have tired, but honest, faces.

I fell in love with diners back in my college days in Los Angeles. I didn't go to many diners when I was in California; I learned to appreciate them on the many road trips I took, especially the ones where I would drive cross country from California to New York. They all look different. They all feel the same. They make me feel happy. Like I'm really welcome and will always have a place to stay. Walking into the diner across the street from the hospital, all those old feelings of happiness came back. I took my time looking at the menu. I took in my surroundings and breathed a sigh of relief. It felt good to be out of the hospital. It felt like I was on a road trip. Maybe I even felt a bit young again. Wait a minute, I am young, damn it. I'm only 39, and I'm sure I don't look older than 30.

OK, so this post isn't exactly brimming with heart-pounding happiness. Actually, I had a dream last night that DID make me supremely happy. I almost forgot about it, the day was so hectic. I was with two Asian guys that I had never seen before. From the way we were interacting, I knew that one of them was a very good friend. The other was a guy that I was totally infatuated with. We were all getting on a train. Going somewere, I don't know where. But it felt so real. So fresh. So exciting. I wish I could have that dream again tonight to see where we ended up.

Five Years Gone By

2009-01-01T06:31:00.000-08:00

Today I celebrate five years since my return to New York. To think, five years ago to the day I was sitting in a holding cell in police headquarters in Seoul, having been informed the day before that I was HIV+; then handcuffed; then driven to the airport; then begging the immigration official to remove my handcuffs before he escorted me onto the airplane. What an endless New Year's Day that was. I was put on the plane early in the morning and then I crossed the International Date Line, so it was still the morning of January 1, 2004 when my plane touched down in New York. What memories.

Last night, New Year's Eve, I sat in a chair in a hospital with Dad. Old episodes of Law and Order were on. The really old ones. My favorite ones. The ones starring Sam Waterston as the District Attorney. I loved his character. New Year's came and went very quietly. Literally.

This morning my mind reflexively started to contemplate the possibilities of new beginnings. Clean beginnings. Such is the extent to which Western minds have been brainwashed into thinking certain things on certain dates. Well, this year started with no clean beginnings. This year started with me collecting my father's feces sample for the nurse. Normally she would have done it, but since I was there, would I mind so terribly doing it for her? As I sat there in the bathroom doing what I needed to do with the sample specimens, I burst out laughing. Thinking about all the times my parents said they changed my smelly diapers. How they didn't mind since it was their own child, their own flesh and blood. I can't say I felt the same exact emotions (I don't think children love their parents in the way that parents love their children), but it was not such a terrible ordeal. Just the realization that on certain days, we all literally deal with shit.

And contemplate assisted suicide. I never really understood what that was all about. Why the infamous Dr. Kevorkian went to jail to defend his practice of assisting terminally ill patients end their lives. After two weeks of visiting the geriatric ward, I got a very unpleasant glimpse into the future. I think growing old is not a pleasant prospect. I think the physical pains do not compare to growing irrelevant. The humiliation. The degradation. I know that the nurses on the floor are tired and overworked, but I did not see a whole lot of love or sympathy for these old people in their care, some of whom never had visitors. As I get older, I can see myself turning more and more into my mother and father. God willing, I will get to end up old and gray in a hospital bed. I just won't have any son sitting by my side. Watching old episodes of Law and Order. Taking care of me. The greatest problems of this world have no technological solutions. No one will ever patent a machine that can mend a broken heart.

You Can Only Go Back in Your Dreams

2008-12-29T19:48:00.000-08:00

They say you can never go home again, that once you've left for any extended period of time, home will be an essentially different place when you return. Last night I discovered: in your dreams you can go back again.

I was in Korea. It was winter. I was with my friends and we were planning a trip to Sokcho. An adventurous trek through the icy, imposing mountains. Ending at a small cozy inn near the ocean. Where we cooked food indoors. Slices of beef and pork. Glasses of soju. Laughter. Warmth. In my dream, the light was strangely muted. Melancholy. Reminding me that I was in a dream. And in fact, the distinct feeling I had throughout was one of contentment. Which is an emotion that rarely manifests itself when you're in the moment. It only comes with hindsight.

Tonight I heard there are two ways to be rich. The first is to make a lot of money. The other way is to learn how to be happy with less. To realize that you've got a lot when you're surrounded by friends and family, good food and drink when the world outside is a cold, bitter place.

Withdrawal Symptoms

2008-12-27T14:11:00.000-08:00

Giving up smoking was probably one of the hardest things I had to do when I found out that I was HIV+. Seriously, and sadly, there are few friends in this world who can do what a cigarette does: provide companionship, pleasure and understanding all in the scope of a few minutes, and then leave without saying a word. No one in their right mind gives up smoking. The only way to account for some people kicking the habit is that we all get a lot crazier as we get older. Crankier. Lonelier.

If I didn't know it before, I know it now: that serious sickness and withdrawal go hand in hand. My father, who had been clamoring to leave the hospital the first two days he was there, no longer wants to leave the hospital. He does not want to watch the Jets game on Sunday, even though their whole season depends on it. He refuses to talk to me about the Australian Open this January. He is perfectly content to lay in his bed with the lights off and the curtains closed. I, of course, am not. So I berated him. And told him to get up and sit in a chair. And then take a walk around the hospital floor. And brush his teeth. And shave. Which he eventually did. I am not ready for my father's Withdrawal.

It was seven months before I was brave enough to face the world after I found out I was HIV+ in 2004. As of late, I find myself wanting to shut out the world again. It's a crappy world to be sure, with flecks of happiness scattered in a mosaic of general miserableness. Why can't it be the other way around? Why can't the evening news be 90% good news and 10% bad news? Why is ours a culture so obsessed with negativity? Would a news channel that reported 90% good news be a financially viable vehicle? Can human beings exist as a primarily happy creature? I wish we all had the courage to find out.

Sitting With Dad

2008-12-24T10:22:00.000-08:00

The good news came early yesterday. Dad does not have cancer. You never know what good news is until you hear the words: he does not have cancer. What he did have was a serious liver infection that required minor, yet still painful, surgery. And further tests on his gall bladder. And weeks of antibiotic treatments that will leave him much weakened. I sat with him for 16 hours in the hospital as he drifted in and out of consciousness, holding his hand, the one that held the wedding band of white gold. The wedding band that he had never removed for over forty years. The one the doctor made him remove while he had the surgery. I was surprised to learn that it could come off. I had always thought it looked rather painful, appearing ingrown onto his finger.

When I was five, I had my first real Christmas. It was Dec. 24. My brother and I were allowed to stay up until midnight. That's when Santa would appear and bring us our presents. But we didn't have a chimney so I wondered where he was going to come from. We soon had our answer: he was coming up the stairs from the basement. The sound of those heavy footsteps coming up the stairs was making my heart burst with anticipation and excitement. And there he was. Santa. When you're five, and going through Christmas for the first time, I guess it's easy to forget that Dad isn't anywhere in the room. And you believe the story your Mom makes up that he's working late.

My brother and I sat on Santa's lap for all the obligatory pictures. Years and years later, my Mom would tell me that I kept feeling Santa's hand. The one with the white gold wedding band. That I kept looking at that damn ring that was going to blow Santa's cover. She couldn't help feeling nervous and upset at the same time. How could Dad have forgotten to take off that wedding band? Was I going to suddenly burst out, "You're not Santa! You're Dad!" Well, not that Christmas. And not the next one either. And then of course, my brother and I grew up and there was no fooling us anymore.

Last night in the hospital, as I held Dad's hand again after 33 years, feeling his wedding band, I no longer wondered who he was. I only wondered how 33 years had gone by so terrifyingly quickly. And how another 33 years would go by equally quickly. If I was lucky enough to be around for another 33 years.

Merry Christmas and great thanks to all who have been readers of this blog. Be happy, be well. Live in the present. My wish this season is that everyone will have a ring to hold on to in 33 years.

Dad

2008-12-19T21:12:00.000-08:00

When I first learned I was HIV+, I visited a clinic once a month for blood work and counseling. Having just been deported from Korea, having lost my friends, job and relatives, those monthly visits provided comfort and security, and most importantly, a schedule. They gave me something to look forward to. And someone to talk to. The clinic has a number of doctors--I only have to go twice a year now--but my favorite was an Indian woman who found a way to talk to me about so many other things besides HIV. Family. Literature. Life in New York City. But on one visit we had a sobering discussion about HIV. But she was still encouraging. Telling me that HIV was manageable (which it really has turned out to be.) Not unpredictable like cancer. That if she had to choose between HIV and cancer, she would choose to be HIV+. I tried to smile.

Today I cried. My dad is in the hospital. The doctors think he may have stomach cancer. My aunt died of stomach cancer this past fall. It was a slow, painful death. Her final days were marked by dosages of morphine. Life is just so full of sadness. And unpredictability. Dad's birthday is in a few days, and this is really not how we had planned to celebrate.

Before I left him at the hospital tonight, I leaned down to give him a hug. He couldn't lift his arms. So he reached up his lips and kissed me. I love you Dad.

All I Want for Christmas...

2008-12-10T14:24:00.000-08:00

How are we supposed to go about living in such a bankrupt world? Why do I want to join the kids in Greece who are rioting their brains out because the world is such a pile of shit? If anyone is reading this, here's my list of Top 10 Things I Want for Christmas:

1. Someone to burn down the house of Merrill Lynch's CEO John Thain who asked for (and was turned down by the Board) a $10 million bonus for safely leading his company into financial oblivion.

2. Someone to bash in Illinois governor Blagojevich's head, effectively removing his genes from the gene pool of humanity.

3. Someone to buy Jesse Jackson, Jr. a billion clues when it comes to buying Senate seats on the black market from sociopathic Illinois governors, and then bust his ass into prison.

4. Someone to blow up Bank of America's headquarters, specifically the billions of dollars that they got in bailout money that is just sitting in their vaults and not helping Joe Factory Worker.

5. Someone to obliterate Zimbabwe's Robert Mugabe and save him the cost of a trip to hell where 99% of his citizens are now living.

6. Someone to banish AIG to a black hole in a galaxy far, far away, but not before forcing it to cough up the $200 billion in loan money it got from the federal government so their top executives could have facials at a California spa.

7. A lawyer in California to befriend that Korean man in San Diego whose wife, mother and two daughters were killed when a US military plane crashed into his house, and get him a billion dollar settlement from the money we'd get back from AIG.

8 and 9. I can do without if I could just have 10!

10. Have the world agree that January 20, 2009 can be tomorrow, the same day that Texas is thrown out of the United States for producing the worst leader in the history of the universe.

I Am a Vampire

2008-11-22T18:04:00.000-08:00

With all the fuss over Twilight this weekend, the new teen vampire movie, a lot of people are going to miss the other vampire movie playing, Let the Right One In. Of course not many people were going to see this second movie anyway seeing as it's an import from Sweden and only playing in the city at the Angelika (which was packed with people lining up to see Slumdog Millionaire.)

I can't say I'm the biggest fan of vampire movies. In fact, I can't think of a single one I've seen. Maybe I felt possessed to see one today because I've been feeling a lot like a living dead person--just going through the motions, unable to find death. An end. Resolution. Something. I called up a couple of people to see it, but no one was answering their phones. Maybe they're all dead, too.

Let the Right One In is about two 12 year-old kids, a boy and a girl, both desperately lonely, and in desperate situations. It was amazing that two such young kids could wring out such powerful performances, something I will have to remember when writing future screenplays. Watching this movie, one learns that a vampire must be invited into a room before it can enter; otherwise, it dies. I'm not sure if this rule is part of the original vampire lore, but for someone like me, I accepted it at face value. And after I finished watching, I realized what a brilliant metaphor the filmmaker had created.

A lot of us are vampires. We certainly didn't start out that way. But somewhere along the way, we inadvertently invited the wrong people to enter into our lives. People who sucked the blood out of us without managing to kill us. Not because they were necessarily evil but because that was what they had to do in order to survive. And once a vampire has bitten us without killing us, we are destined to be vampires forever. Until we choose to walk into the light. And meet our deaths.

I am a vampire. If you are kind to me, and invite me into your heart, I won't harm you. But if you're one of those who ends up crossing me, pray that I kill you. It's no fun being a vampire. Always alone. In search of the blood that lets you live for another lonely night.

I'm Voting for Barack McCain

2008-10-27T16:20:00.000-07:00

Election Day is some time soon, in the near future, a day that can't arrive soon enough, a dawn that will hit me on the head like a frying pan. Get here for crying out loud already. I am so sick of election coverage, but at the same time I can't do anything to vomit it out of my system. It just stays in my stomach, churning and burning, causing alternate bouts of anger, nausea and bloating. After nearly two years, I can honestly say I don't know much about Barack Obama other than he was born in Hawaii, was raised a Muslim in Indonesia, dropped out of Harvard to join Al Qaeda in Botswana, has three boys, one of whom has Down Syndrome. Let's see... what else do I know? Oh yes, he's black but was married to a white woman who perished in Hurricane Katrina. He is going to raise everyone's taxes by at least 150% and is planning on building a new Presidential retreat in North Korea because the real estate prices there are so cheap. I will not be voting on Election Day anyway because New York's electoral votes automatically go to the Democratic candidate by law.

I really think they should have had a show like Project President, modeled on Project Runway where each week the candidates would have competed in a challenge and we could have seen who they really were. This week's challenge: kill as many people in Pakistan without using a nuclear weapon. Next week? Redecorate the White House with a budget of $100. The final challenge? Fix the economic shit we're in.... NOW!!! The debates told me absolutely nothing about Obama and McCain other than the fact that neither of them could debate effectively.

I am so ready to quit being an American. Let's hope 2009 gives me new hope to be proud of this country again.

I DON'T HAVE HIV!!!!! I WAS JUST FAKING IT AS A JOKE!!!

2008-10-11T07:49:00.001-07:00

Yeah, I don't have HIV. I was just trying to see if people out there would be sympathetic to me if I said that I did. And it turned out that people were not sympathetic at all. The majority of them turned out to be 100% certified assholes who could give classes in how to become producers of the ugliest shit you have ever seen. What a hilarious experiment this has been!!!! LOL.... For the past five years I have been lying to everyone in the whole world, bringing scorn and shame on myself (especially at the pharmacy last week when they couldn't locate my meds and the girl at the front counter basically SHOUTED out to the store, "Why can't I find this man's HIV meds?" and everyone including the pharmacists was giving me the nastiest looks.) But now I think it's time that I ended this charade because five years of taking medicines that I really don't need in the name of a social experiment was probably a bit excessive. I can now go back to having unsafe sex because HIV is shit that happens to other people, not me!!!! LOL!!! Hey world!!! I WAS JUST KIDDING!!! I DON'T REALLY HAVE HIV! I CAN'T WAIT TO PUBLISH THE RESULTS OF THIS EXPERIMENT ON GAY WEBSITES EVERYWHERE! Boy, people were so naive and gullible. Everyone just believed me when I said I was HIV+!!! LOL!! It will be such a relief to join the world of HIV- people again. I hope the entire HIV- world will thank me for having conducted such a worthwhile experiment--proving that HIV- people are pretty much ignorant, uncaring, evil, vile individuals who all deserve to be shot in the groin, or at least be radio talk show hosts in Minneapolis. (And YES!!!, that is ME in the picture! I am Langdon Perry and I have HIV!!! PSYC!!!)

What Am I Angry At?

2008-10-02T09:39:00.000-07:00

When gay people in NYC post an ad on craigslist or chat on gay.com and say they are "just looking for friends" that is the biggest lie in the world. I should know because I tell this lie all the time. What gay people really mean by "just looking for friends" is "I am looking to start out as friends with someone who I think could potentially be a long-term relationship guy." That is the truth. Let's face it, if we were just "looking for friends" that person could be ugly, or fat, or ultra-conservative, or someone who does not speak English that well, or smelly, or hairy or a drug addict. "Looking for friends" means you'd better be attractive, have a good job, be well-educated, have sparkling conversation. The list goes on and on.

I recently met two HIV- guys who said they wanted to be "friends". But looking at the way they dressed up for our first dates, it was obvious that no one wanted to be "just friends". I'm sorry, but no one gets that dressed up for just their "friends". And then of course, I mentioned that I was HIV+ and I never got a phone call from either again. I don't know whether to continue accepting this rejection and being disappointed or going on a rampage of revenge, infecting every HIV- guy out there that I can. I've blogged before about how this virus inside me makes me feel like the Incredible Hulk--it turns me into a different person when I get angry. Very angry. And both of these guys made me feel just that.

Of course, I would never intentionally infect anyone. But I wouldn't be surprised if there were other HIV+ guys out there that would. Anger can unleash itself very unexpectedly sometimes. So, to the HIV- community out there, if you're going to reject us, at least have the courtesy to tell us explicitly instead of not taking our calls and deleting our e-mails. And be caring in your rejection. Say that HIV is something that you cannot come to terms with because it scares the hell out of you. (It's not that scary anymore after living with it for five years.) The point is: keep the communication flowing. It's when people stop talking that fear and ignorance have room to grow, and before you know it, they are larger than life itself. I won't deny that I get angry at myself for having gotten infected in the first place. But I only get this way when provoked.

Last Time Phil Lifted His Leg Up Like That Was When...

2008-09-20T01:35:00.000-07:00

The world is in a financial meltdown, but you'd never have known it from the way these two kids were playing golf this afternoon. I've always loved my baby Anthony, but today he made me love Phil who has always seemed lifeless to me. I think the problem with Phil is that he has made too much money to enjoy golf as a game anymore. But today he high-fived like there was no tomorrow. Fortunate for us golf fans, there is a tomorrow.

Hang In There, Friend

2008-09-18T20:09:00.000-07:00

An e-mail buddy of mine wrote me today and told me that he was HIV+. It was very unexpected and completely deflating. I wrote him back and told him that as time goes on, you don't fixate on the virus all the time. There are days when you just forget about it. But these are lessons that you learn on your own, and in your own time. Looking back on my most recent entries, I realized that I have not been writing much about HIV. I think it gets too exhausting to rehash the topic over and over. You force yourself to forget even though you know the virus will always remind you of its presence: because of the virus I always have to be home by midnight to take my meds; I don't allow myself to get close to anyone in a romantic way because I always end up being rejected; I think about death a lot more than I used to.

I am working on a third screenplay these days. It is a sad story about a father who kills his son. Who feels he has no choice to kill his son. Who has been dreaming of killing his son for the past fifteen years. I can't wait for days of happiness to return.

Obama Is Not Getting It

2008-09-12T07:35:00.000-07:00

Well, maybe he is, but isn't letting on. The inconvenient truth here is that the American people do not pick their presidents based on the issues. They pick their leaders based on appearance and personality. Sound like a high school class president election? Perhaps. But that would be looking at things in too "negative" a light. My take on this is that Americans are by and large a very trusting people. The Japanese-American political economist Francis Fukuyama touched on this in his book called Trust in 1995. We elect our leaders and trust them to do the right thing. And why do you trust anyone to begin with? Because you connect with them on a certain, intrinsic level. No one has the time to make two lists of the myriad of issues that plague this country and then compare them side by side on an Excel spreadsheet. We trust that Obama will do the right thing. We trust that McCain will do what's best for the country. And yet, politicians know that they have to pay lip service to the issues because what they are really doing is revealing the politician's deeper instincts and values. I haven't heard much from Obama on the issues these days, and that's where he's going wrong.

Palin may not have experience, but lots of people are trusting that she will not do anything inherently wrong. And Obama's campaign knows this. The government is run by tons of leaders and advisors who will make sure that Palin will not do anything too seriously wrong once she is elected. Her role is to get McCain in the White House, and she is doing that job just perfectly at the moment.

She's no Ferraro

2008-08-29T07:55:00.000-07:00

Wow. If McCain goes with Sarah Palin, governor of Alaska, he may have played a wild, trump card that no one could have seen coming. At 44, she's earned a well-deserved reputation as a maverick, she's younger than Obama, she's actually governed something and she's going to attract all those women voters who wanted it to be Hilary. Hell, she's going to attract a lot of men who wanted it to be Hilary. Let's be honest, she is very easy on the eyes. Obama's pick of a Washington insider like Biden was two sides of the same coin--inspired and uninspired. But above all, it freed McCain's hand to go with a running mate who did not need to deliver a huge bunch of electoral votes in the election. Delaware gets 3, as does Alaska. This allows the election to focus on personalities and issues. Now, how hard does Biden the Attack Dog go after Palin without appearing misogynistic? One false move here could send all the Hilary mice scurrying over to McCain and four more years of McSame. What an election this has been.

Here We Go Again...

2008-08-25T18:59:00.000-07:00

After two glorious weeks of watching the Olympics, we are now back to the real, ugly world. (Not that there weren't ugly incidents at the Olympics--the Cuban taekwondo jin kicking the ref in the face comes right to mind--but at least there were more good stories than bad.) Bush and Cheney are threatening Russia not to recognize the breakaway provinces of South Ossetia and Abkhazia when it was just last year when the West decided to recognize Kosovo's independence from Serbia. Bush says, "Georgia's territorial integrity and borders must command the same respect as every other nation's, including Russia's" and conveniently disregards Serbia. I have no love for the Serbian leadership, and neither did the Kosovars. But if we're going to start recognizing that every disgruntled group of people can claim independence, then we're going to have allow for the possibility of Native Americans having their own country within America's borders. We have to allow for Quebec to become their own nation. And the Basques in Spain. And the Taiwanese. There is just no consistency here--the only thing that matters is muscle, and that is exactly what Russia is flexing at the moment. If I were Russian, I would tell America to f*ck off and stop being so hypocritical. Until there is some consistency in America's foreign policy (when is November arriving?), Russia can do whatever it wants.

9-0

2008-08-23T11:18:00.000-07:00

Korea's win over Cuba marks the first time Korean men have ever won a gold medal in a ball sport. And what a win it was, 3-2. The first inning saw the Koreans take two runs to Cuba's one. The seventh inning saw an exchange of runs. And then it was on to the bottom of the ninth where Cuba was able to load the bases with one man out. I know the Korean press is going to be hounding the Puerto Rican plate umpire for favoring the Cubans with some very questionable calls on throws that should have been strikes--even the American broadcasters were claiming that the pitcher Ryu Hyun Jin got squeezed and that the strike zone had disappeared. The catcher got into a heated argument with the plate and got ejected. It really looked like all was lost. No way was Cuba going to leave the bases loaded here. One base hit was all it would take to snatch victory from the Koreans. Of course, one double play was all it would take for the Koreans to clinch gold, and that's what they got. No one thought the Koreans would go 9-0 in this tournament, least of all Japan and Cuba who each got beat twice by Korea. This would prove to be Korea's last gold medal of the games, and am I glad I woke up at 6 in the morning to catch it!

Baseball in Beijing

2008-08-18T22:54:00.001-07:00

I am LMAO watching Korea and Cuba play baseball. The Chinese organizers tried to import a lot of the American stuff like music for the 7th inning stretch, but NO ONE is singing along. They brought over the bugle riff where the spectators should yell CHARGE!, but NO ONE does. More problematic is that the camera work isn't quite up to par, the lens not tracking the appropriate player at the relevant time. A replay that would definitely have been shown here in the States is not always worth a second look in China. It's actually kind of hilarious. This has to be the quietest ball game I have ever heard. There aren't many fans in the seats, but come on... No wonder the Olympic powers that be are removing baseball from the roster for the London Olympics. Now I would have paid anything in the world to see a British baseball team. It couldn't have been much worse than the team the Greeks fielded in 2004.

Anyway, Korea is up 6-3 in the 7th and if they win this one, they will surely beat the lowly Netherlands and end up 7-0. Then they will promptly lose the match to go for the gold medal. I've seen it happen too many times with Korean baseball. They make you believe, until the last minute that is. Go Korea! Win a gold this time!

40, 30, 20, 18, 17...

2008-08-17T18:23:00.000-07:00

My dating life seems to be in this weird regression, backtracking, retrograde, Saturn-is-in-Venus-which-is-in-perihelion-window mode. Five months ago I was dating someone who was in his early 40s, which was quickly followed by someone in his late 30s, which was followed by someone in his 20s and then in his younger 20s, and now I am embarrassed to admit that I have recently gone on dates with kids who are 18 and 17. (Not that anything physical was going to happen with the two kiddies, especially the 17 year-old, I still double checked New York's statutory rape law to make sure I was on the safe side, which I thankfully was.) What have I learned from all these mishaps? First, I am still a curious person, curious to meet new people and hear what they have to say. I found I am physically attracted to all shapes and sizes and yes, ages. Tall and lean, short and squat, short and thin, chubby and tubby, scruffy and squeaky. Is this a good thing or a bad thing? Would it help to be attracted to just one type or would that limit me more in my search for Mr. Right? And then I realized what all these people had in common. Not one of them knew the difference between a run, a touchdown, an ace, a goal and a birdie. Tiger Woods is not a retirement community in south Florida. Nor is Rafa a gangsta rap star. Will someone who knows please let me know where you are?

Sportsmanship

2008-08-15T23:48:00.000-07:00

A handshake here, a hug there. I am seeing some truly touching moments of sportsmanship in these games. As proud as I am of being Korean, I do think that Koreans are not always the most gracious losers. We're wonderful winners, but not always the best at accepting defeat. The bronze medal match in men's badminton doubles was a riveting affair between the 5th ranked Danes and the 13th ranked Koreans. The Danes took the first game easily and looked to be cruising to taking the second game and the medal. Somehow the Koreans turned it around and then stepped on the gas, winning the second and third. I felt for the Danes. It must have been crushing. Yet there they were hugging their counterparts and offering real congratulations. I'm not sure I would have been that magnanimous. But the gesture just filled me with so much respect for the Danish players. More than the hearts of a champion, they showed the hearts of caring human beings.

I Am Loving These Games

2008-08-14T00:26:00.000-07:00

I have really been enjoying these Olympics. For the competition and for the range of emotions they have elicited. I just got done watching Korea play Iceland in men's handball, a match Korea did not deserve to win 22-21, but also one that Iceland richly deserved to lose. It just got so ridiculous at the end when Korea's men had a brain fart and the Icelandic men looked like clowns trying to score the equalizer. The Korean coach threw up his hands when the final buzzer blew, but it was the body language of a survivor, not a victor.

The coaches in weightlifting exude all the innocence and joy of children when their lifters make a successful lift. It is so contagious I want to take up weightlifting and have someone be that excited over me.

Watching the sizzling hot Hiroyuki Tomita fall off the rings was truly terrifying as he landed like a rag doll. Suddenly in that moment, winning and losing seemed irrelevant. Kohei Uchimura fell off the pommel horse twice, but how amazing was it that he came back to win the silver medal! (He is a lock for gold in London.)

The judo judges are just cracking me up. They are bad ass! I mean B-A-D ass with their suit jackets and stern looks. You don't mess with them. In comparison, the officials in charge of the archery matches look like nursery school teachers.

And speaking of bad ass, China is making these Olympics look like a Saturday matinee. Their athletes are performing out of their minds and making it look so easy! Makes me damn proud to be a fellow Asian!

Poster Boy

2008-08-13T10:53:00.001-07:00

Every Olympics for Korea there's always one athlete who kind of comes out of nowhere to grab a gold medal and this year it's this 5'5" 23 year-old kid Sa Jae Hyouk, winner in the 77kg weight class. I don't recall Korea winning a gold medal in weightlifting while I was there for 10 years, so this is bound to be a big deal. And since single fold eyelids are still quite the rage in Korea, expect this kid to get some major endorsements when he gets back home.

I Love NBCOLYMPICS.COM!

2008-08-13T00:04:00.001-07:00

It is 3 am in the morning and I am watching Korea vs. Sweden women's handball match LIVE! Thanks GE for letting me watch this! Korea is up 22-16!

Olympic Music

2008-08-10T20:12:00.000-07:00

Here's my new favorite song that's the background music for the GM commercial that's been running during the Olympics. And if my first screenplay ever gets produced, this is going to be the payoff song toward the end of the movie. Her name is Brandi Carlile. It's called The Story. Hope you like it as much as I do.

All of these lines across my face tell you the story of who I am
So many stories of where I've been and how I got to where I am
But these stories don't mean anything when you've got no one to tell them to
It's true...I was made for you.
I climbed across the mountain tops, swam all across the ocean blue
I crossed all the lines and I broke all the rules, but baby I broke them all for you
Because even when I was flat broke, you made me feel like a million bucks
You do. I was made for you.
You see the smile that's on my mouth, it's hiding the words that don't come out
And all of my friends who think that I'm blessed, hey don't know my head is a mess
No, they don't know who I really am and they don't know what
I've been through like you do, and I was made for you.
All of these lines across my face tell you the story of who I am
So many stories of where I've been and how I got to where I am
But these stories don't mean anything when you've got no one to tell them to
It's true...I was made for you.

Six for Six... and Counting

2008-08-10T13:17:00.000-07:00

You've got to believe there's a deep-rooted correlation between a nation and the sports that it embraces, but what exactly it all means is sometimes hard to say. Few would argue that football epitomizes the American character, with its emphasis on power, analysis and precision. The same can be said, more or less, for baseball and basketball. When it comes to Korea, increasingly one comes to think of its excellence in golf. The way the sport requires hours and hours and hours of patient practice. Rote, mechanical practice. (Not unlike the way many Korean students attack their studies, memorizing fact after fact after fact.) But before there was golf, there was archery. Since 1984, Korean women have won every available gold medal in Olympic competition, sweeping individual and team play. Yesterday saw a continuation of the dynasty when they comfortably defeated the Chinese, unlike four years ago in Athens when they needed to shoot a perfect 10 on their final arrow to clinch gold. (Unsurprisingly it was the same archer from four years ago who shot the final arrow this time around, Park Sung Hyun.) I can't imagine the kind of practice and dedication, not to mention strength, it takes to keep shooting arrows at a target 70 meters away every day for hours at at time. What does this say about the Korean character? Is there any other sport that so accurately represents what Koreans are about?

What the World Needs Now

2008-08-09T22:13:00.000-07:00

In my prayers tonight, I include the Bachmans. As the entire world now knows, Todd Bachman was murdered in Beijing by a mentally deranged man who subsequently committed suicide. I pray that Mr. Bachman is in heaven now, and that his wife makes it out of surgery all right, and that she and her family will heal quickly.

There is so much negativity all around. Today I went to go see The Castle, an off-Broadway production about four ex-cons who tell their stories. And what heart-wrenching stories they are. About abuse. Neglect. Despair. Pain. Redemption.

Please everyone, let's all be good to each other as much as we can.

Good as Gold, Part II

2008-08-09T19:43:00.000-07:00

Hooray for Taehwan Park! Korea's first medal in swimming, and it's gold! Four years ago as a 14 year-old kid in Athens, he false started and was disqualified. How agonizing that must have been--to practice and prepare and travel halfway around the world, and then on international TV, embarrass yourself. Four years later, it's vindication. People were saying that he was going to win gold. And he did. What a great moment in a teenager's life!

On another note, how about those Korean women handballers yesterday! In their first preliminary match against the current world number one Russians, they were down by 9(!) goals and stormed back in a ten-minute period to tie the score and ultimately walk away with a tie. An amazing effort in the sport that brought Korea's first gold medal in a ball sport.

Good as Gold

2008-08-09T09:54:00.001-07:00

Congratulations to Minho Choi for getting the gold he wanted so badly at the Athens games four years ago. You've got to love stories like this that vindicate the adage "If at first you don't succeed..." I will keep this guy in mind as I go forward with my writing.

I am sure the broadcasters in Korea were screaming their heads off when Minho won gold in the final in a little over two minutes, defeating the current world number one, Austria's Ludwig Paischer, by ippon, a "throw". (But Ludwig was so gracious, so sportsmanlike, at the end of the match when he had to lift up an overwrought Minho from the floor, hugged him and held up his hand in the air to signify that he had been beaten by the better judoka.) A successful throw signals the immediate end of the match, much like getting pinned in wrestling does. The semifinal was an even shorter affair, where he took down the world number 2, Dutch Ruben Houkes, in four seconds! Blink, and you would have literally missed it! These are the matches I really miss seeing in Korea. At any rate, the broadcasters can now relax and stop ranting, "When will Korea win its first gold medal?" Usually it's the women archers who provide the first gold, but Korea definitely got a nice surprise here. (Korea's women archers, by the way, set a new world record in the ranking round scoring 2004 points thereby securing the top seed in the team tournament and the top 3 seeds in the individual.

I wish I were in Beijing!

I Wish I Were in Beijing

2008-08-08T18:51:00.000-07:00

Watching the opening ceremony of the Olympics has done nothing for my state of mind and this third script that I am writing. I love the Olympics. It is all about color and festivity and sport and people coming together. One of the biggest regrets in life is that I will never be an Olympian and get to march into a stadium and be a part of a ceremony that celebrates the ideal of one world. (Hmm... maybe that should be my next goal... figuring out how I can come close to doing something that approximates that.) My scripts to date have all been about disconnection and isolation, and I am sure that as I soon as I finish this third one, I will write something much brighter and happier.

So here are some quick thoughts on the opening: 1) It was a show that will never be duplicated ($300 million went into the production!); 2) George Bush looked bored at one moment, checking his watch; 3) The Chinese crowd cheered loudly for Taiwan and Iraq (how very nice, especially since there were only four athletes in their delegation) and gave a jolt of hurrah to North Korea; 4) The announcers made a point of politicizing the games whenever they could, criticizing China for denying Joey Cheek a visa (Joey Cheek, a former gold medalist who has been vocal about China failing to do enough in Darfur), jabbing at Venezuela, slamming Russia; ripping Zimbabwe; 5) Putin looked at the American athletes with positive disdain, LOL (but they didn't show Bush when the Russians came in, so....)

How American Am I?

2008-08-06T19:47:00.002-07:00

Growing up in this country in the 70s, I saw few Asian faces in the media that might have informed how I, an Asian-American, might fit into a predominantly white society. The answer my parents provided was simply to study hard and get a good job. But would that make me a proud American? I always had my doubts. Living in Korea in 1996 forever changed the way I felt about my heritage. The Olympics were in Atlanta that year and it was the first time I was going to get a really good view of what Korean athletes could do. In sports like archery. Badminton. Ping pong. Wrestling. Judo. Hardly what one would call the glamor events of the games. Yet I immediately sensed something afoot when the Korean stations broadcast archery live and all my friends decided that they were going to spend the night at my apartment and watch it with me. Yeah, OK. But there I was cheering the archers as they unleashed arrow after arrow at the bullseye. There I was getting excited by a sport I was seeing for the very first time in my life. There I was hollering when Korea won the gold medal. In archery. Then I knew I was a Korean. A little bit of research later I discovered that the bow and arrow were the traditional weapons of the famed warriors of Goguryeo, the ancient Korean kingdom whose boundaries stretched all the way into present day Manchuria and Russia. For the first time in my life, I felt proud of the blood that coursed through my veins.

After 1996, there was 1998 when Seri Pak won the US Women's Open at Blackwolf Run in Wisconsin. That was another stay-up-all-through-the-night ordeal as Korean television broadcast live her 20-hole playoff against Jenny Chuasiriporn. Watching Seri make her final birdie in the early hours of the morning, my friends and I erupted in elation. (That apartment saw a lot of wear and tear.) Fast forward through the Sydney Games to the World Cup in 2002. All I have to say is that I was there when Korea went to the seminfinals. I was there when Korea beat Poland. And then Portugal. And then Italy. And then Spain. It's just impossible to describe each event. The cheering that took place in the streets. The parties that took over the night. I was alive. And I was Korean. Not much more to ask for.

So here we are. 2008. I thought I was going to be watching the games live in Beijing. This was before HIV changed the course of my life. I'll be watching the games here in NYC. Begging for a glimpse of the Korean athletes. I might get to see Park Tae Hwan in the 400 meter freestyle in swimming. And not much else. Will I cheer on the Americans? When they're fighting against the Russians and the Chinese, I will. And I guess that answers my question.

Checking In at the JetBlue Counter

2008-08-04T10:37:00.000-07:00

"Good day sir, where are you going?"
"LA."
"Three bags, I see. It's 100 for the first, 200 for the second and 300 for the third."
"Six hundred dollars to check in my bags?"
"Fuel costs, stupid. Get on the scale please."
"Why?"
"Surcharges for fatsos, of course. The days of light, healthy people paying for the evil choices of Heart-Attacks-Waiting-to-Happen are gone."
"I was meaning to start a diet this week."
"Should have started a month ago, Blubber. My, my, 226 pounds. The first 100 are free, courtesy of the Bluester, but it's an extra dollar for every pound up to 200 and 10 dollars for every pound after that."
"Isn't that discriminating against people who weigh over 200 pounds?"
"No one told you to shove that last Ho Ho down your throat for breakfast. That'll be an extra 360."
"So what am I up to?"
"WTF, you're stupid and fat? Jeez. Lemme calculate this quickly here. 960 in surcharges so far."
"Man."
"We're not done yet, sir. You're of Asian descent, yes?"
"What does my ethnicity have to do with anything?"
"It's an extra 5000 when you're Middle Eastern or look or smell anything like a terrorist. That's the 'terror tax' we tack on to those customers. Federal marshals don't fly free, especially the ones who look like tubs of lard. But since you're Asian, it's only 1000 more."
"So I have to pay $1960 on top of the 600 for the original round trip ticket?"
"Will that be cash or credit? There's a $700 surcharge when you pay by credit card. The electronic transactions take up more gas than you'd think."