FamiLee Life

It's the End.....

It's been a good three years but now it's time to end. I began this blog at a time in my life when things were changing and the blog was a way to start afresh. Now, my life has taken another wonderful turn and I've decided to shed this skin.

Plus, I have taken up a new hobby, actually from childhood. Dusted off my baseball mitt and plan to shag fly balls with friends in the neighborhood park. Ah....life.

With an End, Comes a New Beginning...

Heewon and Me -- August 2nd, 2008

Updates, New Starts, and Endings

Thanks to everyone who emailed or called with concerns about me after the bike-car accident. I am doing okay with the help of some muscle relaxant and anti-inflammatory meds. Got a check-up with my doctor who said that I have a case of whiplash. Not surprising given the impact of man vs machine. My concussion symptoms seem to have dissipated. I also noticed that I am a bit skittish at times when walking across the street on foot. I tried to ride my bike only once since the accident and noticed that I was a bit skittish on the bike too. I am now sorting through the insurance end of it all and waiting to get the bike estimated/repaired. I also need to purchase a new bike helmet. Once that is all taken care of, I need to just rid myself of neck/back pain before I ride again. Hopefully sooner than later. All in all, I am on the mend.

On to other news....

In less than two weeks, I start a new chapter in my life which is pretty exciting. HW and I have finished most of the final "to do" things before August 2nd. Errrrr...correction: HW has finished most of the "to do" things with my help/support. It should be a blast! We hired the best KJ in town (from Pi Bar) to keep the singing going well into the night. Importantly, we are happy to be on this journey.

Finally, I am seriously thinking of "retiring" this blog once it hits the 3 year mark (on August 9th). It seems like a good time to end it's life (blog-euthanasia) and perhaps to start a new internet endeavor. No, not Facebook and not MySpace. Maybe a non-university blog hidden somewhere deep in the veins of the ethernet. I may drop a hint later to locate me.

That is it for now. It is a nice day outside, so I may grab my mitt and shag fly balls.

CSI: Bike vs Car

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On Monday evening, I was hit by a car as I was riding my B'Stone Eurasia home. It was at the intersection of Riverside Ave and 22nd Ave South just past the West Bank of campus, next to Augsburg College and (conveniently Fairview-Riverside hospital. First off, I am doing okay. Sore, stiff, and mildly concussed but thankfully alive with no broken bones and no internal bleeding.

Here is how it went down (or what I remember of it, as I was concussed). I was riding eastbound on Riverside along the right side of the road. The stoplight at the intersection was green, so I was just cruising along at a reasonable speed (avg. 14 mph) when BAM! Next thing I know, I feel/see myself being hit by a car broadside on my left. My body and I think my bike go up into the air and I land/roll onto the hood of the car and then fall hard to the ground. I realize later that she must have carried me a few feet on the hood of the car before she came to a stop because of where I ended up on the ground. Thank goodness I was wearing my helmet (and correctly at that). I am crumbled under my bike for a second when I realize fully what just happened. I scramble up because I am afraid of getting hit again and am freaking out. I stand and check to make sure I am (a) not dead and (b) not seriously injured. I look up at the driver of the car who is still behind the wheel and I scream at her, "What the f&*#@! I had the right of way. It was green!" or something pleasant to that effect. She gets out of the car, apologizes, admits it was her fault and asks if I am alright.

I sit on the ground in disbelief and starting to freak a bit. Then, I drag myself and my bike over to the curb to get out of the middle of the road. I am dazed but aware enough to call 911. She does nothing. A few bystanders at the bus stop come over to offer any help. I ask if any of them saw what happened and a few said they saw it all. Later, I read the police report to realize that the police did not take down any witness accounts. Maybe because the driver admitted fault. Still, I thought it was standard procedure. Argh.

I am trying to not hyperventilate or go into any sort of shock. Remain calm, I tell myself. Calm.

I try to call HW to tell her what happened but she does not pick up the cell phone. Argh. The ambulance and a security truck from Augsburg pull up. I am attended by the EMT who bring me into the ambulance. They ask for my ID and insurance card and ask if I want to go to the hospital. Yes, I do. Which one? I don't know, I guess Fairview-Riverside. You could walk there or take the ambulance just one block. I don't know (obviously, I am a bit disoriented). Can I have my ID back? We already gave it to you. You did? Yes. Oh, I find it (another sign of disorientation). Then, I am told by the police that they will impound my bike unless someone can pick it up now. Huh? I call my friend Peter who is one block away at his art studio (thankfully). He comes immediately. Then, the police officer seemingly mocking me says that the EMT have better things to do than drive me one block and any "Tom and Jerry" can figure out what to do (i.e, walk over). Geesh. Nice police etiquette. I end up saying, if my friend Peter is here then I will walk over. I mean, seriously, they would want me to walk over on my own? What if I collapsed of internal bleeding 100 yards away after the ambulance drives away. Unbelievable.

After I leave the ambulance, I walk over to the police who are talking to the driver about 30 feet away. I ask the other police officer if I can go to the hospital now. She looks at me with a really annoyed face and barks at me, "No, you stay right here till we tell you." Wow. Ok, so I linger with Peter. I realize it's a good thing because they still have my driver's license. Finally, we get a card with the case control number and walk to the hospital. Peter is toting along my beaten up, beloved Eurasia with bent crank, trashed fenders, and god knows what else.

HW meets us at the hospital and Peter heads back to the studio with my bike. We wait a while before they bring us to the E/R unit where some nurses attend to me and then a resident doctor who asks some questions. She seems more nervous than me. Eventually, the E/R doctor arrives. Super nice guy. My neck is feeling tender, along with the lower back where the most skin abrasions are located. He is concerned enough to order a CT scan for my neck/head. He suspects that I have a concussion and wants to make sure nothing worse.

HW's sister picks us up from the hospital and finally get home around 9:30 pm or so. More than 4.5 hours after I had left work. Tired. I eat some and then sleep. I was exhausted all day yesterday. Groggy, antsy, and with a headache. Plus, my back was sore/stiff and I was uncomfortable most of the day. We stopped by the police station too to get the police report. I read it. The other driver did not get a citation or anything! What!!! Apparently, she claimed that the sun was in her eyes and could not see me. Argh!!! Pisses me off more. What if I had major injuries or had died? Needless, I try to remain calm and thankful. I slept okay last night but I was definitely moving around alot, waking up to reposition myself. Ugh.

Well, that is my CSI episode for the week (and hopefully longer). Ride safe, people.

Commuter Rankings: MSP as #9 and #2

Minneapolis and its vanishing twin, St Paul, have been touting its #2 ranking as a cycling city for the last couple of years. Recent efforts along the well-used Greenway bicycle path seem to support this ranking, such as the opening of the Midtown bike center and the Martin Olav Sabo Pedestrian/Bicycle bridge. We also see the popularity of bicycling, in the midst of rising gas prices, through the increased value of used bicycles for sale on Craigslist.

Well, that all said, MSP residents (and notably their suburban commuters) still love the car. In today's NYTimes online, there is a post about the top ranked cities for "commuter pain." I am not sure why IBM of all organizations completed this survey but so be it. The full press release is available here.

My friend Tom who lives in Los Angeles and used to work for CalTrans (CA DOT) once visited MSP and noted how horrible our highway infrastructure was designed. Of course, much can be said about California's freeways but I think their problems have more to do with the sheer number of drivers than the poor routing/planning of highways (granted, the two are interrelated). In MSP, the highways are a tangled mess and were just not built for the heavy flow of commuters, especially people who have no idea how to use the zipper method of merging. MnDOT is just now starting to address these deficiencies, leading to more construction and traffic, and thus adding to our commuter pain.

Of course, in the end, the best way to ease such pain is to reduce outward migration to the 'burbs, encourage city living, and to promote more sustainable methods of transportation, such as walking, bicycling, and buses and light-rail. Oh, and less cold weather would help too (ha!).

An index of commuter pain:

1. Los Angeles
2. Atlanta
3. Miami/Fort Lauderdale
4. Dallas/Fort Worth
5. Chicago and San Francisco (tied)
6. New York
7. Washington, D.C.
8. Boston
9. Minneapolis/St. Paul

Back Again...with Random Things

It's been a little busy over at FamiLee, so I have been negligent in my blogging. But I am back again, sort of. Mostly, I wanted to give a few random updates and comments.

1. The mullet is making a comeback. A Red Wing boy won a contest for the best mullet. Apparently, the mullet is popular among hockey players, so their manes can be seen from beneath a helmet. Hm...will this become a new trend among cyclists? I have taken up this charge to the chagrin of HW.

2. Three local kids get suspended for not standing up during the pledge of allegiance. Read Strib article. "The school's handbook says all students are required to stand but are not obligated to recite the pledge." Funny to read because I got in trouble for the same thing back in the day. I was enough of a rabble rouser to take the same stance and, in the end, had to stand even if I chose to not recite the pledge.

3. The extracurricular activity for this summer is biking, camping, canoing, and my continued quest to become Minnesota without becoming Minnesotan. Enough said.

MSP to North Dakota

Having lived in Minneapolis since 2000, I have not done very much traveling outside of the city. Heck, St. Paul even seems far and foreign to me at times. Fortunately, the last few weekends have brought me over to St. Paul so I am again feeling the Twin Cities. Now, HW and I have a trip planned to visit her family in North Dakota. I was thinking it was to a small town just bordering Minnesota. Kinda like driving up to the BWCA or something. Well, I just googled the town and it's on the far western side of North Dakota. Holy smokes! That is 660+ miles away and venturing into the western frontier, folks.

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Sick Again

Not much to say today except that I have been fighting another cold. ARGH! No rising temperature or hacking cough. Just have a stuffy nose and feeling a tad achy and tired. No fun. I've been taking it easy the last week so I can recover enough to enjoy the upcoming trip to Chicago for three conferences in one weekend!

14 More Minutes...

of daylight each day. Since the passing of the Winter Solstice, the days are back to getting longer. There is one week left of Winter break before the Spring semester begins. It's also good to stay positive right now with temperatures dipping below zero this week (and the wind chill makes it even worse) and, more tragic, the recent death of a fellow cyclist. I did not know Rachel Dow but she was a UMN student and avid biker. She was a dear friend of many people whom I know and used to work briefly at my favorite coffeeshop in town (CRC). So take 14 minutes to remember loved ones who have passed on and to show your love for those in our lives right now. And then take the next 14 minutes to enjoy the extra bits of sunshine and the last week of quiet on campus.

Growing Up Dangerously (and Loving It!)

Having parents who worked all day (and night) and not being over-scheduled to death with after-school activities left me with lots of time to wander, explore, find things, take things a part, build things, and all the other glories of childhood play. But at some point between childhood and adulthood (actually, more like late adolescence), I stopped doing as many "dangerous" things. As I aged, I became more caught up in consumerism (buying instead of making), lazy with my time and efforts (TV was intoxicating), and eventually I lost a sense of self-efficacy in tinkering. Gevert Tulley's mini-lecture at the recent TED conference reminds me why doing dangerous things are good for a child's development.

Nowadays, I feel the urge to get back to those tinkering days. I think getting back into bicycling has been a good first step. Initially, I was taking the easy way out and just bringing things to the bike shop to get fixed or replaced. Now, I am re-learning what I used to know how to do as a kid. Taking a part a bike and fixing it up. The upcoming Art Shanty Projects is another good opportunity to live more dangerously with power tools. Despite being a homeowner for 5 years or so, I still have a dearth of tools (manual and power). But helping my friends put up their shanties will give me a chance to get back in the groove.

Hm...I don't usually do New Year's Resolutions but maybe this can be sort of one. Hold me to it now!

Word of the Day

SWELL. As in, I feel swell.

I am starting a mini-movement to bring this word back into fashion. I know, it might bring some of you back to those Happy Days (a la Richie Cunningham), but who cares. It's a wonderful word, isn't it?

Swell is also an oceanic term and used in bookbinding.

SWELL
Pronunciation:
\ˈswel\
Function:
verb
Inflected Form(s):
swelled; swelled or swol·len Listen to the pronunciation of swollen \ˈswō-lən\; swell·ing
Etymology:
Middle English, from Old English swellan; akin to Old High German swellan to swell
Date:
before 12th century

intransitive verb
1 a: to expand (as in size, volume, or numbers) gradually beyond a normal or original limit b: to become distended or puffed up c: to form a bulge or rounded elevation
2 a: to become filled with pride and arrogance b: to behave or speak in a pompous, blustering, or self-important manner c: to play the swell
3: to become distended with emotion

transitive verb
1: to affect with a powerful or expansive emotion
2: to increase the size, number, or intensity of

Beautiful Day and I Overslept

I think the semester finally caught up with me last night/this morning. I overslept by an hour and had to carpool to work today. Of course, it looks like today is the most beautiful of days and I wished I had ridden. But I had a morning appointment and would never had made it, if I rode my bike. Alas. Fortunately, there is tomorrow which will be the nadir of dark days. Plus, it's a nice perk to carpool with HW and not have to personally worry about traffic.

Small Updates on Things

1) It's already dark outside. Ugh. On the bright side, days get longer after Friday (or whatever the exact date for the winter solstice).

2) The pest control guy came to the home today and thinks we have mice in the house. Then, he was doubtful because we could find no mice droppings. Possibly chipmunks (argh!), but unlikely squirrels (phew) or bats (phew). Threw down some poison to solve the problem. Fingers crossed and hopefully no dead mice or chipmunks or whatever in the middle of the living room or elsewhere.

3) Journey (the band) has signed on Arnel Pineda from the Phillipines as their new lead singer (replacing Steve Perry who has left the band or is holding out for some reason). Apparently, they discovered the singer on YouTube!

4) I rode my bike, SS Amnesty, yesterday and today. Ah, felt good to be back on the road with two-wheels. Was a bit scary riding through downtown rush hour traffic. I think I need to invest in some ski goggles because my glasses keep fogging up.

Two+ Years of Peace GONE!

I began this blog at a time when my life was topsy turvy crazy with an infestation of rodents of all kinds -- namely squirrels, bats, and chipmunks. After spending hundreds of dollars on pest control and many hours of labor to evict them all, it seems they have returned. The "they" is still undetermined but my now well-trained ears tell me it is squirrels.

Now some people love squirrels. In fact, there is a squirrel website dedicated to them. But to me, they are simply a destructive critter whose late afternoon and nighttime noises drive me absolutely crazy. HW has yet to fully experience their terror, but I am sure she will find it equally maddening.

So, stayed tuned as the saga continues....and the trapping begins.

Snow Makes Me Sleepy

The weather forecasters called this one correctly. It started to snow early this morning and has steadily continued throughout the day. I think it's snowed about 4 inches thus far and it could accumulate between 6-10 inches by the time it stops. I forgot where I stored the snow shovel, but found it in the garage. Having shoveled twice and having watched BC lose to VT in the 4th quarter, I decided to do the next best thing. Sleep. Here is a photo of Shiloh (aka, the cat blanket) and me. Ah...the weekend.

Snow....

is on it's way. We've had a few flurries but our first major snowfall of the year is expected to land tomorrow. Hm, I better get our Christmas tree early tomorrow morning before the snow really comes down.

Car Flat and Bike Commuting

I drove my car to work yesterday because I needed to give a guest lecture at Bethel University in the middle of the afternoon. I went to the parking ramp to drive to Bethel and noticed my front tire had gotten a flat. Drat. I took out the tools to change the tire, but could not get the lug nuts loose. They were jammed on there. I even used my foot on the bar for additional leverage to no avail. So, I called Audi Emergency Roadside Assistance and they sent out a guy to use a powerdrill with adapter to loosen the nuts and put on the spare. Fortunately, I had enough time to still make the lecture.

It is 29 F degrees this morning, but I elected to ride my bike. I just found myself frustrated with the car problems from yesterday and liked the freedom of the bike. Then, as a pleasant reward, I ended up riding alongside a colleague of mine who also commutes to work along the Greenway. Matt asked me how long into the Winter will I ride. I said probably when it hits 20 F degrees. He said he rides until it is 10 F degrees outside! Impressive. I must say, it was quite enjoyable to ride in conversation with someone in the early morning.

3-8-6 Generation

I had lunch today with two Korean American academic colleagues. HTC is a Korean language/linguistics instructor at the University and EBL is a good friend and also a professor of creative writing at Metro State in St. Paul. I must say that it was really nice to share a meal with Korean American colleagues (i.e., lunch with more than just one other person). I think it was a first for me in all my years teaching! Amazing.

I also learned that I am a part of the 3-8-6 generation. This is a phrase used among Koreans in Korea to describe the cohort of people who are in their 30s, grew up in the 1980s, and were born in the 1960s. It also reflects the era of the Intel 386 processor for PC computers which debuted in 1986. I distinctly remember borrowing my college roommates PC laptop in 1986 to write my term papers using WordPerfect software. Wow, that really dates me!

A Cat and A Box

Over the summer, a cat named Shiloh moved into our home. Shiloh's previous home was a one-bedroom apartment, so moving into a home must seem pretty spacious. He readily adapted, claiming certain spots in the home as his own. For example, he likes the flokati rug in the living room, especially when the sun shines through the window to warm it up. He also enjoys the sitting on my lap when I am working on the computer, sleeping on the couch in the television room, chilling on the small rug by the front door, and hiding out in the 1st floor bathtub. Then, a couple of weeks ago, I was getting ready to move an old box of art exhibit catalogs and other miscellaneous things from the Still Present Pasts show and placed the box by the kitchen steps which lead to the basement and the side door of the house. Immediately, Shiloh jumped atop this box and claimed it as part of his kingdom. He loved to sit on top and watch what we did in the kitchen. He also would lie down and I caught him a few times staring at his reflection in the mirror located at the bottom of the short steps. Theory of mind at work? Then, the day came for me to move the box.

Shiloh was pretty lonesome in the days following. He would sit in the same location and meow. Like a baby's cry, cats have different meows. This meow was the "I miss my box" kind of meow. It was pretty pathetic and adorable all the same. We tried to substitute the box with an upside down plastic bin, but he didn't like the plastic. I found an old shoe box and tried it, but he got freaked out by the holes on the side, thinking something must be inside the box. I taped up the holes, but it did not fool him. Finally, I got a box of bicycle parts from Rivendell in the mail and placed this empty box in the kitchen. Ah, finally, happiness.

A Journey and Do You Remember

HW and I decided to get away from the cities for a night, so we headed down south toward Lake Pepin and stayed at a small, bed and breakfast known as an "eco-retreat" called Journey Inn. It's very green and organic. Just four guest rooms and a rustic shared space. We stayed in the Air Room which was nice. The best part of the b&b experience was the chance to try out these nifty wool pillows and natural latex/wool/cotton mattresses -- all made by Vivetique company. HW had mentioned this company's products a while back but I was not really sold on them until this weekend. It was great to sleep on a firm but supple wool covered mattress with an equally soft wool pillow. Wool is just amazing. I am more and more amazed by this natural fabric. I slept very well.

Greg Norton today and Greg Norton playing with Gang Font

On the drive to the inn, we saw a sign for Norton's Restaurant. My heart did a minor skip and I suggested that we eat there for dinner. Why the heart flutter? Well, Norton's is owned by Greg Norton and his wife. Who is Greg Norton? Why, he was the bassist for one of my favorite bands of all time - Husker Du (which means "Do You Remember" in Dutch and Norwegian). Nowadays, Greg Norton plays occasionally with a jazz-punk-metal band called Gang Font, feat Interloper.

Greg Norton (left) with Bob Mould and Grant Hart

We made reservations for 7:30 pm and arrived slightly later than expected. And when we entered, there was Greg Norton. He looked around and the only available table for two was right next to the front door. We asked if there was another table and he suggested that we wait at the bar. So, we ordered a glass of wine and sake and had a nice conversation with him. On the back wall, I noticed a few signed albums by Talking Heads and Patty Smith, as well as the Suicide Commandos. After perusing the menu, we were seated by the window at the far end of the room. It was quite lovely.

Norton's is known locally because they make an effort to use produce and meats from local organic farmers. I also had heard that game fish was often on the menu. The space itself has an Asian meets Midwest theme, as noted by HW. It's pretty spare and straight forward. Definitely not trying to be anything special. Just casual, comfortable, and relaxing.

We ordered mussels and clams, as well as beefsteak tomatoes, for appetizers. Both were half-orders, but they were larger servings than most restaurants serve as a whole dish. Maybe 12 or so mussels and 6 clams and about 10 slices of tomatoes. Yum! Then, HW ordered some fancy South Pacific grouper fish and I ordered lamb. I had never had lamb before, so it was a mini-adventure. The entrees also were huge! My lamb came on the bone and slid right off. Very tender and clearly well prepared. The fish was also succulent and perfectly cooked. Usually, fish is overcooked but this one was not. I was surprised by the taste of lamb. It's a bit indescribable but it was tasty. I am not sure if it is a taste for me, as I think it is something more acquired than immediate. Still, it was flavorful and filling. We finished the meal with an amazing dark chocolate truffle with a sherry glaze, sea salt and crushed red pepper flakes. Yum. A perfect ending.

The Lake Pepin region is just a beautiful area. A perfect getaway after a hectic week. We definitely will return again and maybe I will bring one of my old Husker Du albums for Greg Norton to sign. That would be totally cheesy but we would be in Wisconsin!

This Makes Me Sad

Mark Loesch

Yesterday, I posted a story about a bicyclist found dying on someone's front yard. Here is the full story. It makes me sad. Real sad. I have ridden this similar route many times. One time, this group of young kids were gathered by the 40th St bridge and made a comment about how nice my bike looked and would I sell it. I said "no thanks" and zipped along over the bridge. I heard a month or so ago, a cyclist was beaten on the greenway late at night by a group of 10-12 year old kids. I've wondered if they ere the same kids. I will think twice of taking this same route again...God bless his soul and my prayers go out to his family.

MBIA :: Missing Blogger in Action

I just noticed how long it has been since I last posted a blog. Things are busy these days and I am feeling the need for more downtime doing nothing (e.g., watching the start of football season) and doing simple things (e.g., household stuff). It's the start of school, so upon quick reflection, I will blame this major seasonal event. However, I do promise to get back at it. I've actually got things to post, I just need to do it. Like so much in life. Nike was right in their ad campaign.

Random Notes

A few observations and thoughts from today....

1) Jetlag stinks. I have been back from Korea for 9 days (including 4 days in San Francisco) but my jetlag is still horrible. I slept 12 hours (from midnight to noon) two nights ago, but slept 0 (ZERO!) hours last night. Ugh.
2) Riding a bicycle to work with 0 hours of sleep is surreal. I am alert but there are moments of zen bliss riding. Must be careful. Caffeine helps.
3) Alton Brown on the Food Network is both annoying and irresistible to watch. I've been watching a lot of Food Network to manage jet lag.
4) I have discovered a new television channel called VS which seems to be a competition only channel that features hours and hours of mixed martial arts. Not as good as UFC but still entertaining.
5) I am jones-ing (sp?) to go camping before summer ends. I think HW and I will go at the end of September. Paul has gotten the ball rolling for planning a BWCA trip for next summer. That will be most excellent.
6) Owning a home means always fixing something. I can see now how my parents' home slowly fell into disrepair. Short on time and short on cash means lots of things get left unfixed or not maintained. I need to do a better job with my lovely home. First on the list -- fix the leaks in the basement. Second on the list -- tuckpoint the chimney and exterior brickwork. Third on the list -- replace the front door.
7) My laptop hard drive died yesterday. Fortunately, I had backed up all my photographs from my recent trip to Korea the day before (phew!). Also, I had 20 days left on the Dell warranty so the hard drive will be replaced for free. Double phew. Downside is that I will be computer-less at home for a week. Hm...this might be an upside.
8) School is almost starting!!!! Egad!

When Fancy Pants Sue and Loses and Other Life Lessons

My parents (and my oldest brother) owned (and still own) dry cleaners. Their odyssey in the dry cleaning business started when I took a part-time job working in the dry cleaners owned by a family who went to the same church as my family. A short time after I began to work there, my parents and brother realized that the corporate world was not for them (or rather, the glass ceiling prevented such a future for my parents and my brother was sorting out what he wanted in life) and they apprenticed at the same cleaners by the time I was in college. They opened FamiLee Dry Cleaners and Tailors (hence my blog name) around 1987. They subsequently opened FamiLee Too and FamiLee Three which were/are drop-off locations. The actual cleaning was done at the main shop. Around 2001 (I forget the exact date), they sold the main business and retained the two drop-off businesses. My mom and dad "officially" retired, but they kept working part-time at one of the smaller shops. As most know, my mom passed away in December 2002 and so she never go to enjoy the fruits of her labor. My brother and dad continue to run the shop, so to speak, though I am unsure for how much longer. Still, it's been 20 years and there are many stories to tell.

In the news today is a story about a lawsuit in which a district judge suited a Korean-owned dry cleaners in Washington, DC for 54 million dollars!!!! Read story here. It's a completely ridiculous lawsuit and fortunately the presiding judge agreed with the defendant. Plus, the judge made the plaintiff pay for all the legal fees and more. It had all started with a missing pair of pants. Apparently, very fancy pants. They were part of a pricey suit that the cleaners had lost. Sometimes it happens in the dry cleaning business. In return, cleaners usually pay the cost of the pants. If they are old pants, you pay their "blue book" value, so to speak. If they are new pants, you pay the retail cost. However, you do not have to pay 54 million dollars. Somehow, this plaintiff/judge thought "satisfaction guaranteed" meant you got this much money. Ridiculous.

MINOR UPDATE - From the AP, [Judge] Bartnoff wrote that Pearson, an administrative law judge, failed to prove that the pants the dry cleaner tried to return were not the pants he took in for alterations. Makes you wonder if the guy was really just feeling vindictive and needed some way to soothe his wounded ego.

My parents had many such encounters at the dry cleaners. They had individuals who requested strange things such as dry cleaning and pressing underwear, laundering cheap, polyester dress shirts purchased from Sears in 1970, and more. On occasion, clothing would get lost. My parents would have to pay for the current value of the sweater or shirt or pants. Most customers were understanding, but some would get enraged. A few customers would leave and some of them actually would return after a time because my parents' business was the best in town. Such was life.

Having previously worked in a dry cleaners as a high schooler and then having had to work every summer and vacation in my parents' cleaner, I learned the value of hard work, patience, monotony and repetition, attention to detail, and customer service. Learning when to just smile and when to stand up for oneself. How to bargain and how to accept a deal. You also learn how to spend lots of time in silence, alone with your thoughts, as you tirelessly press suits as 110+ degree steam hits you in the face for hours upon hours on end. It was a valuable learning experience. At the same time, I realized from these experiences that I did not want to be a small business owner (at least not as a full time occupation).

So, being the son of dry cleaners is a part of the reason why I am in academia. It's completely different but in some respects it is the same. The lessons learned still apply. Plus, on a day like today, you feel good when Judge Fancy Pants loses a lawsuit!

Notes from the Velvet Underground

When I was in high school, suffering through my assortment of identity and family crises, I found lots of solace in music. I listened to mostly punk, hardcore, new wave, and other modern/alternative rock tunes, including early generations of these forms. One of these early vanguard bands was the Velvet Underground. Man, there were so many days where I just listened over and over to this Warhol-managed band, fronted by Lou Reed and for a time led by vocalist Nico.

I am working today at Anodyne Coffeeshop in an adjacent neighborhood to my home and I heard VU playing overhead with their song Femme Fatale. Gosh, I had forgotten about VU but they still hold a special place in my heart. Their music, melodies and lyrics were great. Sparse but full of sound at the same time. Haunting yet soothing. Just lovely music.

For those not in the know or who are curious or who want to enjoy some VU favorites, click HERE or HERE to listen to some songs on YouTube.

Friday Cat Blog (sort of)

People are really into blogging about cats on Fridays. I am not sure how this "trend" began, but it happens. Trust me. I once proposed Friday Haikus but I only published one. Pretty pathetic. From time to time, I get directed to the following site (What Jeff Killed). It is sort of like Friday Cat Blogging but not warm/cute/fuzzy. Still, it's a fascinating site which is like a web-based Animal Planet or Discovery Channel about the wild nature of domestic cats.

Warning - the images on the Jeff site are pretty gruesome, so view with caution.

Mother's Day :: Day After Reflections

Mother's Day has come and gone. I wanted to write a post yesterday but could not get myself to do so. Instead, I spent the beautiful Sunday doing some usual Sunday morning things, such as making coffee, reading the NYTimes, tidying up the home a bit. Then, as the morning sun heated up, I tackled the backyard - digging up my ever expanding collection of hostas, splitting them up, relocating some of them, and trying to give away a lot of them. I was successful in all these efforts. I chatted with my neighbors whose mothers had come to visit. Later, in between random television viewing, I balanced my checkbook, surfed the internet, cleaned inside the home a bit more, ate a late lunch, and eventually heated up a salmon burger on the grill. H-Dub came back from a day with her family and we went for a nice bike ride to Crema Cafe for sorbet (yum). Riding through the swarm of gnats around the lake, we enjoyed the serene water of Lake Harriet and felt refreshed. It was a relaxing day of doing mostly nothing.

Then again, perhaps it was a day of reflecting and appreciating.

Throughout the day, I thought of my mother. I miss her awfully still and yet I have come to peace with her absence. I feel her presence in small ways - when I cook Korean food, when I am organizing and cleaning, when I am bargain shopping, when I am talking with my dad on the telephone, when I am worrying about the family from afar, when I stop to say a prayer, when I am talking to friends about childhood. Our memories are shaped by the stories told to us, stories we have told to others, and invoked by the smells, sounds, sights, and actions of everyday life. So, in doing the little things around the home yesterday, I was thinking of my mother most of the time.

Most days, these memories bring about a warm melancholy that soothes the soul. It's not a sadness at not having but a touching emotion of gratitude and missing. The loss of a loved one, once the grief has subsided and the healing of life resumes, brings a special awareness to what we do have in life. I guess, you could say, it is the last gift my mother gave me before dying.

Happy Mother's Day, mom.

My Surprise (Unveiled)

It started out so innocently. A mere hobby. Something to do for exercise, relaxation, and pure enjoyment (see here). As you may recall from previous posts #1 and #2, I eventually decided to focus my attention on Bridgestone bicycles, as I already owned two of them (XO-3 and MB-3). So, last year, I purchased a RB-1 and I thought my collection was complete.

Then, if you may indulge me, I started to talk with a friend, Paul L, about biking and camping around town. Something called a S24O for a sub-24 hour overnighter. You bike to a local spot, camp for the night, and bike back the next day or two. Well, this got me thinking of which bicycle I would fit with racks, basket, and panniers. The XO-3 was a good option but I wanted to bicycle with more of a road bike-feel. Specifically, a touring bike. I was hopeful to retro-fit the RB-1 for this purpose, but I decided against it because of the frame geometry and the cost to do so.

After browsing ebay for months, I came across the bike (shown above). I waited patiently and then anxiously as the bidding time came near to a close. Then, I started to bid with an upper price point in mind. With luck and (ahem) skill, I won the bicycle. Here are a couple of more photographs.

It is a Bridgestone Eurasia EAD500 and it dates back to 1988 or so. A check of the serial numbers suggest it was built in 1988 and probably sold in 1989. The cool thing about the bicycle is that it was never sold in the United States. I think it's most comparable US-sold bike is the Bridgestone T-700. It was purchased by a woman in Japan (her name was Yuko) who eventually must have moved to the states and then sold to a Japanese American man (his name was Takeuchi). The bike never exactly fit him and so he put it up for sale on ebay. Lucky me! As the new owner, I have named the bike, Yuko Takeuchi.

This is a touring bike which means the wheelbase is a bit longer than on my RB-1, comes equipped with eyelets to attach racks, and can accommodate larger size rims/wheels. I believe it's pretty stock (with Suntour Cyclone 7000 dérailleurs, Nitto technomic stem, Nitto 105 bars) but I did add a Brooks saddle, Berthould steel fenders, and MKS Sylvan pedals. Eventually, I am going to replace the Nitto handlebars which was very narrow (39 cm), but am waiting to decide on what will replace them. Importantly, it rides like a dream.

So, okay, enough bike porn for a Monday morning. Enjoy and see you on the road.

Surprises....

I have a surprise to share with everyone....but I shall keep you waiting to discover what it may be. Actually, I need to do a little more xyz before I unleash the surprise.

Meanwhile, I decided to throw a surprise to someone who has been working her tail off. When stress overwhelms, tank goodness!

Toilet Burps and Other House Lessons

A week ago, the city decided to tear up a part of my home street to repair or replace some water pipes, I think. I am not exactly sure what they were (and still are) doing, except that one day there was a tag on my front door which said they had to shut off the water supply to my house until the mysterious problem was fixed. It was not a big deal to me since I was heading out to work before they had to shut off the water. When I got home, it seems the repairs were made and my water line was back on. For the next day, as I turned on a faucet or flushed the toilet for the first time, there was a hiccup in the system until the air pressure was released. All worked fine except for my troublesome upstairs toilet which has had a variety of minor grumbings over the last couple of years.

Upon flushing the toilet, it would literally burp with air at the start of the flush. Plus, the bowl was not filling up to the previous level. Of course, in my laziness, I really did nothing about it, thinking it would magically go away. A week later, it did not...until today!

Thank goodness for the internet and specifically for google. I simply keyword searched "toilet flush burp" and the second click gave me the answer. Amazing.

Owning a house is filled with these little moments of excitement. My other concern these days is the fear of an ice dam build up on my roof, due to the heavy snow over the last 8 days. I never knew a thing about ice dams until my neighbor rang my doorbell about 3 years ago and asked if I wanted to borrow his roof rake. I had no idea what he was talking about until he explained its purpose. Since then, I have used it twice. In fact, I used another neighbor's roof rake the other day. Then, I noticed that there was a yellow-ish icicle hanging from the corner of my house on the eave. Argh! I think there is moisture somehow getting under the shingles at this spot and leaking a bit into my roof. It does not seem bad but I think it is caused by a minor ice dam buildup. I will probably have to fix this "leak" in the Spring.

Given that the home was built in 1923, I am sure there are plenty of little things that need repair. Were I a handy man, it might be "fun" or "purposeful," but instead it's just a pain to me. I have to get my chimney tuckpointed as the cement between the bricks are loose and needing repair. I also need to replace some plumbing in the lower bathroom to remove some rust that builds up otherwise. There are probably a few other things to do to upkeep the home. And then, of course, there are the squirrels and chipmunks that are the bane of my existence.

Yet, I love owning a home. I am fortunate and thankful to be able to afford a lovely home. I love waking up without the nuisance of neighbors walking above me. I love being able to watch tv loudly, host late-night parties, and have a permanent mailing address. It's the little things that add up. Sometimes, they add up in terms of fixing this or that, but mostly they add up in so many good ways.

Frozen Contacts

Here is my Tuesday routine: I get up, I pack my gym bag to play basketball after work, I put my gym bag in the car trunk, I go to work, I leave work to play basketball, I take my gym bag out of the trunk, I enter gym, I change clothes, I put on my contact lens...uh...wrong! My contact lenses were frozen in a block of saline ice! No joke. It was so cold yesterday (around 5-8 degrees) that my contact solution (saline - salt water, people!) froze solid with my contact lenses encapsulated. Frustratingly, I had to play ball with my eyeglasses. By the last game, the contact solution was no longer frozen and I was able to pop in my contacts for one game. Amazingly, the contacts appeared to be unaffected by the freezing. Maybe, in fact, it killed any bacteria that was fermenting in the case. Oh well, such is the life of a Minnesotan.

Happy Birthday Mom

My mother would be 66 years old today....well, at least legally, according to Uncle Sam. My mother claimed to have been born during the Spring and the January 15th birthday was just a typical immigration paper error. So, she actually preferred to celebrate her birthday on July 4th. I think she chose this holiday date (despite it being in the Summer, not Spring) because we always gave her a hard time about having a rotating birthday (based on the lunar calendar) and this was an easier date to remember. In the end, I used to just call her on January 15th to wish her a happy birthday.

She died about six weeks before her 62nd birthday. As she was lying on the hospital bed, she said to me -- Oh, I can't die yet because I am just 6 weeks short of my social security benefits! That's my mom for you. Always a crack up, even up to the end.

Happy birthday, mom. I miss you, love you, and am glad you have whe halmoni beside you now.

Love, your youngest son

Brothers with a Chuckle and a Giggle

left to right (oldest to youngest): King, Martin, and Me

One of the bright moments from my visit home for whe halmoni's funeral was the chance to spend time with my older brothers, Martin and King. King lives in CT, so I see him and his family whenever I visit for the holidays. Martin, on the other hand, lives in Olympia, WA and I had not seen him in over three years. In fact, I last saw Martin when our mother died in December of 2002 and then again that same Christmas. At the time of our mom's funeral, we boys had decided to take a photo altogether to place in her casket, so we would always be beside her. This is the above photo of us in suit/tie.

Sadly, it took another funeral for us to all be together again, but it was not as sad a day for us. Whe halmoni had lived a full life and we all felt peace in her passing on to Heaven. The next day, Martin came up with the idea to recreate the original photo, but in casual clothing this time. It was a funny episode. We kept cracking up throughout the photo taking (kudos to sister-in-law Heide for taking the photos). I think we ended up taking about 12 photographs before we finally got a non-laughing shot that we could all agree upon. This is the other photo above. Notice my t-shirt giving props to the Midwest: It's in the Middle!

My brothers and I, along with my mother, have always had a tendency to laugh at inappropriate, solemn moments. Growing up, during long prayers before meals, we almost always started chuckling, then heaving with laughter. My father would get upset with us, especially when it was the minister praying! We could not help it. It was the silliness in our genes. Even at my whe halmoni's funeral, during the receiving line at the end of the service, we started to laugh when an old family friend (Mrs K) shook our hands and called out each of our names, King....Martin....Chris. I smiled and then I was like, "Huh? Chris?" Martin looked at me and we just started laughing. Nothing is worse than trying to suppress laughter. Oh gosh, it was a good, long chuckle and giggle.

So, of course, it was fitting that we were laughing the whole time during the photo shoot. King and Martin were laughing and arguing over who was taller and I kept standing on my tippy toes to be the same height (such the jokester). Finally, it was getting late (around 11:30 pm) when we decided to take one very last shot. Here it is....

I love getting in the last laugh :) Ah, the joys of being the youngest.

In the Name of a Grandmother

My maternal grandmother (whe halmoni - in Korean) passed away suddenly last Friday (December 29, 2006) at the age of 90, 92, or 94 depending on which birthdate is used and what age counting system is used. Her birth certificate has her birthday as 1916 but apparently she was born in 1914. As was common back then, her parents waited to register her birth until she was older and likely to survive. She was 92 using the western age counting system in which you are one day old at birth, but she was 94 (I believe) using the Korean/lunar system in which you are one years old at birth and two years old with the new year. At any rate, she died at her daughter's home just a few days after Christmas from pneumonia. It was fortunately a peaceful passing.

My whe halmoni was bed ridden for the last seven years of her life and she had very limited mobility and frail health for maybe the last ten years. There were many times when we all thought that she was going to pass, but she seemed to have nine lives. Always rebounding and saying she was going to live till 100 years old. She was just short by 10, 8, or 6 years....

Whe halmoni was present in my immediate family's life, but much less so than my paternal halmoni who lived with my family since shortly after I was born. I usually saw whe halmoni every Sunday at church growing up and on special occasions and holidays. Later after I had moved away, my mother and I would make a point to visit her at my aunt's home when I came home for Christmas. I always loved my whe halmoni because she had the gentlest soul of any person I knew. She also was spunky and funny -- much like my mother. She had lived a powerful and amazing life that included the Japanese occupation, near executions during the Korean war, loss and betrayal by her husband whom she continued to love, extreme poverty, and death - so much death. Yet through it all, she survived with a zest for life and a courage that matched the strength of steel. I wish I had gotten to know her even better.

It's funny because I never knew her full name until sitting there at her funeral, reading her biography in my broken Korean. Her maiden name was Yi (or Lee) but from a different lineage than my father's family tree. Her Korean name was Sug-Nam which I have never heard before and suspect is a name not very commonly used anymore. I also learned my maternal grandfather's name was Chae Duk-Son and that they married in 1935 when she was 19 (or 21) years old. They had at least five children with the oldest a son, followed by four daughters. It is known that there were at least two other children who died as children from illness and disease. Family history is often mysterious in immigrant families. I do know with certainty that my uncle and my mom preceded whe halmoni in death.

In Korean culture, you are known by your role in the family, not by your name. This is the reason that I never knew my whe halmoni's name. She was always just grandmother. And before any of us grandchildren were born, I am sure she was known as just Soon-Du's mother (my uncle) or Young-Hee's mother (my mom). It is a distinguishing feature between individualist culture and collectivistic culture. We are nothing except in the context of our family role. Yet this role means everything. This name that she carried proudly (whe halmoni) meant the world to her and to us. It let her hold her head high; it gave her happiness and satisfaction. It meant she had done all she could for future generations - her children and their children and so on.

In her death, I am reminded again and again that being a part of a collectivistic family carries different weight. Not heavier, not lighter. Its substance is simply different in some intangible ways.

I will always love you and miss you, whe halmoni. Now you can laugh, play, pray, and share with mom and the rest of our family in Heaven. Peace and love be with you.

Happy New Year

It is the morning after my New Years Eve party. Hosting a party can be a lot of work and stressful, but it is something I really enjoy. I guess I take after my mother. Of course, the hardest part is the waiting but once one person arrives, the rest arrive in droves. So it was last night. We had lots of food (including Korean kalbi and "Asian-style" baby back ribs) and then spent the night talking, singing (thanks, Hapa9), and playing guitar hero (thanks, KO). People filed out around 4, HW and I cleaned till 5, then hit the bed. I am one of those people who just can't sleep in all morning, no matter how hard I try and how bad the need. So I popped out of bed around 10 and cleaned some more. I know, it's crajee.

My resolutions for this year include...

1) To save more money on a monthly basis. Need to be slightly less the consumer and more the frugal saver.
2) To visit all my relatives when I visit my family in CT, rather than just spend time with my immediate family.
3) To ride my bicycle(s) more often
4) To read more books and less In Touch magazines (especially when flying)
5) To attend to my spiritual, religious life more

UPDATE: I remembered the last two resolutions (#4 and #5).

Believing and Then There is BELIEVING

I hope everyone has had a nice holiday season thus far. I went home to Connecticut for 4 days and spent lots of quality time with my family, particularly my brother K's family, as I was a guest in their home. My niece (soon to be 15) and nephews (13 and 10) are just adorable kids and I love spending time with them. As usual, Christmas was a big production at my brother's house. My brother and sister-in-law have always reveled in Christmas, as they have generous hearts, big purses, and childhood memories of growing up with less.

In addition to lots of gifts, they have really gone out of their way to impress upon their kids that Santa is real. That he is someone to believe in. That Santa delivers the goods to the good. To reinforce this belief, they wrap Santa's gifts in a different set of wrapping paper, use a different handwriting to sign the cards, and don't place any presents under the tree until after the kids are in bed on Christmas Eve. Plus, they put out the cookies, carrots, and milk for Santa and the reindeer. My job is to help with wrapping and to eat the carrots to look like reindeer nibbled on them (even tho' it would be quite absurd to imagine reindeer actually inside the house - oh well). In the end, it really is quite elaborate planning. And for a long time (and perhaps still for the youngest), their kids believed. As continuing proof, my youngest nephew asked just before going to bed that we needed to put out the milk, cookies, and carrots for Santa and reindeer. It was adorable.

Even as late as last year, there was some evidence to suggest my niece who was just shy of 14 years old still believed in Santa. Apparently, my brother overheard her talking with a friend X about another friend Y who didn't believe in Santa. My niece retorted to her friend X that clearly Santa exists because there is no way her parents would buy some of the things that arrive on Christmas day. I love that story! The power of childhood reasoning. For additional empirical evidence, read Professor Jaqueline Wooley's op-ed to the NYTimes about childhood reasoning about Santa. For a more humorous set of accounts, read Walter Kirn's story and Sandra Tsing-Loh's story.

Well, all this talk about Santa reminded me of my own childhood Christmas memory. I must have been 8 or so and I am not sure if I still believed in Santa. All I remember is that I caught my mom pulling out of the closet a big wrapped box that she dragged over to the Christmas tree. It was a huge present and it was marked for my brother M (not me!). I was crushed. What kind of present could my parents have gotten M but not me! Astutely sensing my worries, my mom reasurred me that it was a joke gift and it was actually a box full of rocks. I laughed out loud at the funny joke on my brother. I was pleased to be "in" on the joke. Then on Christmas morning as we opened gifts, my brother unwrapped the big box of rocks, except there were no rocks in it. Instead, he had gotten his first stereo system. He was elated and I was momentarily crushed. I felt deceived and envious. Then, it was my turn to open a present and I believe I got a race car track from Santa (or maybe it was my aunt) that Christmas. All was forgiven and my belief in the humanity of Christmas returned.

So this set of shared stories led to an interesting discussion with HW about when parents should tell their kids that Santa does not exist. I said that we should keep up the belief as long as possible. No doubt, my sister-in-law and brother quickly agreed on this point. HW said it depended on when and why the child asks. As a case in point, she shared the story of when her ex-partner's child asked if Santa existed when he was 5 years old. The separation and divorce of his parents was still relatively fresh. Being a little logical boy in need of certainty during uncertain times, he said that he wanted to do a test in which he would put out cookies and milk. He then made it clear to his dad and HW to not eat the cookies and to not drink the milk. If the cookies and milk remained untouched, then he would know that Santa did not exist. They struggled all night on what to do and, in the end, decided to let the boy learn the truth. On Christmas morning, he came downstairs and saw the cookies and milk still there. He knew then Santa did not exist. Of course, Christmas tradition carried forward as a time for family and sharing, but the mystique of Santa was no more.

Christmas is about believing and then there is BELIEVING. It's about learning to embrace the mystery of life, the mystery of goodness, the mystery of love. These things have no logical foundation, although we often try to create the illusion. In the end, it is just a belief in the unknown. We cannot predict the future with 100% certainty. There is no guarantee. Christmas represents a mystery birth. The birth of a baby is a reflection of the mystery of life itself. What or who gives us the breath of life? We can believe in Christmas as simply a noble day to be together as a family and to share love, but I would prefer to BELIEVE in Christmas as a day of the mystery of birth and life. To me, believing in Santa is a scaffolding experience toward learning to believe in the mystery of life. And so, I hope my kids someday will believe in Santa for as long as possible.

A Christmas Tree

Ever since I was a little kid, I always wanted a real tree for Christmas. Instead, like most families of the 70s generation, we had a fake tree every Christmas. Maybe we had a real one when I was really little but I can't recall that far back. Fake wasn't horrible and it was still fun to decorate the tree. Fortunately, we never had one of those all white ones. Yuck.

As an adult and as a homeowner, I can do what I want in my house. I know, not a big revelation but it there are moments when you suddenly realize the significance. My first year in the house, I bought a tree from a nearby lot, went to Target and bought lots of ornaments (as well as a tree stand), and excitedly decorated my 7 foot plus tree while listening to Christmas music. It was great. I even bought the fake candlestick lights to put in the windows to round out the decorations.

Here is the tree for this year. Not the best photograph (my digital is about to die - literally - I am making funeral arrangements). It's a balsam fir, 7 plus feet again. We spent the evening decorating it. What was great this year is we did it on the spur. Unintended. It just felt right, so we did it. One week plus a day till Christmas, so it's a bit late but who cares! It looks gorgeous, smells wonderful, and makes me feel at home.

Squirrel Contraception :: That's Nice!

It's been over a year (knock on wood) since I had squirrel problems in my house. After hundreds of dollars spent on removing them from my attic (and subsequently removing bats and chipmunks too), I should just have gotten some contraception to control the squirrel population in my yard! Hm...I wonder if the same meds work on chipmunks which are basically smaller squirrels (just a smaller dose?).

Here is an actual news article from the UK on efforts to control the gray squirrel population which apparently is overrunning the indigenous red squirrel population. Others, however, believe in just killing them. To quote, "Mr Wales said his group had started killing grey squirrels in 23 priority forests in the south of Scotland by giving them a sharp blow to the head - "cranial dispatch"." OUCH! I guess the gray squirrels are pesky Americans too. "The greys are the more efficient eaters and spread a virulent squirrelpox virus to the reds. The virus does not harm the greys but is often fatal to the reds. This means that the greys, which were imported to the UK from the United States, are taking over the natural habitat of the reds and pushing them further back."

The best lines from this article, written by a comedian, are the following: "The American grey squirrel, like its GI counterparts, is over here, over-cute and over-sexed. It's overrun the native red variety, which has been pushed to the edges of Scotland, like ginger boys in a disco. Am I surprised ? No, frankly, I'm not. Just like everything American, grey squirrels are bigger, tougher and, most importantly, the male grey would appear to have a way with the laydeezz. Scottish reds tend to sit around mumbling about railway timetables and beer mat collections. The threat must be dealt with."

Glory days....well they'll pass you by

It was twenty-one (maybe twenty-two) years ago when this photograph was snapped by a friend. I'm obviously in the middle, flanked by Pete (l) and Steve (r) in a very dramatic fake band pose. We all had gone to public school together and then briefly to catholic high school together (Steve transferred after the first year and I dropped out after the third year). If my memory serves correctly, this photo was taken in between those years. We had swung by a friend's house to hang out and to pick up some new hardcore punk music. Yep, this was my musical styling back in the mid-80s.

As you can see, I also had a flare for fashion too that (if I dare say) oddly mirrors the punk-mod rock stylings of Jeffrey Sebelia (winner of this year's Project Runway). On my Levi jean jacket's sleeve (and back) were about 150-200 safety pins that I had meticulously attached over weeks while working at a dry cleaners for my part-time, after school job. My sunglasses were clearly evoking the spirit of John Lennon who had died five or six years earlier (sidebar - his anniversary death was yesterday). The boots were Timberlands or maybe some local company knockoffs (Hermans). Ah, the glory days.

Today, Pete, Steve, and I are living all across the country (Pete in California, Steve in Connecticut, and me right here in Minnesota). Pete is living large in the corporate world, Steve owns a hair salon, and I am in academia. I have lost touch with Steve, but Pete and I (who were neighbors for most of childhood) are still in touch. In fact, his family was my second family. My "American" family, so to speak. His mom and dad even used to jokingly call me their third son because I was over their house so often. That is what happens when you are a latchkey child and the neighbor is a stay-at-home mom. I am quite thankful to Pete's family because they taught me a lot about the White, middle class way of life that has served me well many years later.

In a few short weeks, I will be going back home to visit my family for Christmas. After my mom passed away, we sold the family home and my dad moved down a few miles to be nearer to my brother. Pete's parents had sold their house a few years earlier and moved south, so Pete and I don't get a chance to see each other during holidays anymore. However, I do see a bunch of my other high school friends still, as we all tend to migrate home for the holidays. Our friend, Dave, has annually hosted a Christmas party that serves as a sort of reunion for all of us. It's always nice to catch up with old friends. We have all changed a lot since those days and I perhaps more than others. Still, it's good to reconnect with the past and move together into the present. Otherwise, the Boss was right - they will pass you by.

Monday Annoyance

I awoke this morning with a sore throat. More precisely, I had a post-nasal drip sore throat that means I am coming down with a cold - the same cold that all my friends have had (or still have) and I foolishly had thought I had escaped. Alas, it's not so. The only good to come of it was as a concrete reminder to get a flu shot.

So -- 7 hours later -- I just returned from getting a flu shot. It was not so bad, but the line was long. There were actually two lines. The first line was to register and the second line was to get the shot.

In both lines, I was standing next to a young man with headphones on. I could barely hear the music but I wish I could have heard more of it. Instead, I was subjected to hearing this man voraciously chew his gum with an open mouth. Loud gum chewing (aka saliva slush sounds) is just down right annoying. Of course, I started to fixate on it because I had nothing else to do. I honestly wished he had his music on louder, so it would have drowned out his loud gum chewing. But alas, I had 25 minutes of gum chewing.

The good news is that I got my flu shot. Fingers crossed, I won't get the flu this year.

Squirrel Attack :: My Greatest Fear

From the Star Tribune comes a truly freakish story. People who know me and my ongoing battle with squirrels and chipmunks in my Southwest Mpls home will appreciate this story. Actually, I have often said that being attacked by a horde of squirrels would be totally hellish. Much worse than Hitchcock's birds. Here is some initial supporting evidence. Click here and here for related, more vicious attacks by squirrels in recent years (hats off to Made in Korea for these links)

Letter carrier attacked by squirrel
Associated Press
Last update: November 02, 2006 – 10:32 AM

OIL CITY, Pa. — Barb Dougherty, a 30-year Postal Service employee, said she was attacked and bitten Monday by a squirrel while delivering mail in Oil City, about 75 miles north of Pittsburgh.

More of the Same :: Sweater Season

As people who know me know well, I am a consumerist at heart (owning 3 Bridgestone bicycles is a case in point). I admit it. Yet I also am a man of simple pleasures, routine, practicality, neatness, and more. I have learned to control the consumerist in me through acceptance and discipline.

So a few years ago, after enduring one cold Minnesota winter after another, I had a winter clothing overhaul. I simply decided to wear v-neck merino wool sweaters for most of the winter. My mornings became easier as I simply perused one of the dozen or so sweaters, like the one pictured above, to don for the day.

Well, the weather over the last couple of days has led to this year's sweater season to begin in mid-September. Simple as that. Cold enough for a sweater, so sweater it is.

Restroom Ratings...

I was searching the web for some new karaoke spots and came across this website -- RestroomRatings.com. How did I come across it exactly? I google keyword searched "Poodle Club Minneapolis" and this was listed #3!

The site features historical articles on restrooms - from its origins, Minnesota public restrooms, Japanese restrooms, fun facts about urine. All sorts of oddities plus reviews of restrooms at local restaurants and bars.

I always wanted to take photographs of graffiti in restrooms and publish a coffee table book. Maybe I will just create a blog for bathroom graffiti.

An Omen?!

Lately, I have gotten more and more into bicycling. The reasons are many, including the wonderful weather, the price of gas, the greenhouse effect, and the need for more exercise. At any rate, it has been a lot of fun dusting off, fixing up, and riding my bicycles (yes, plural -- I used to ride a lot when younger!). My other summer activity has been managing the ground pests that are trying to take over my home. In the past, it has been the squirrels and more lately the chipmunks. But as you may know, chipmunks actually are just small squirrels.

Well, FreeLooseDirt sent me the following story. I think I need to take it as an omen....

Squirrel in spokes floors cycling opera singer
Tue Sep 5, 2006 8:33 AM ET

HELSINKI (Reuters) - A squirrel scampered into the bicycle wheel of an unlucky Finnish opera singer, causing him to fall, knock himself out and break his nose just ahead of the world premiere of a new opera.

Esa Ruuttunen was pedalling his way to the Helsinki Opera House last month when the squirrel ran into his spokes.

The singer ended up concussed and in a local hospital, rather than at his rehearsals for the Finnish opera Kaarmeen hetki (Hour of the Serpent), which opens on September 15.

"He is not yet singing in rehearsals, but thinks he will be able to perform at the world premiere," Finnish National Opera spokeswoman Heidi Almi told Reuters.

The squirrel died in the accident.

p.s., I googled for images of "squirrel and bicycle" and actually came across a number of photos on the web of bicycle/squirrel collisions. However, I chose the wiser path to not post any of these pics. Don't want to anger the squirrel gods.

Alvin Is Still Hanging Around -- RatZapper!

I have not had any chipmunks inside my house since my last posting back in June. But I have had continued chipmunk problems in my garage and eventually had to resort to some rat poison. Alas, it was not pleasant to smell dead chipmunks and then have to search them out in my garage. Gross and sad. Afterwards, I sealed up the holes and hoped no others would show up.

But I still have chipmunks scampering all over my yard, especially my backyard. Lately, they have started to tunnel again near my home's foundation. Argh! So, this time, I broke down and ordered the RatZapper Ultra! I have read good things about this device - clean, efficient, humane, fast.

I have not used it yet but plan to this week. I need to first create a rainproof shelter for it, so it does not short circuit if it rains. Then, I will see if this thing works. Stay tuned....

UPDATE -- I should note that it's not my intention of eliminating all the chipmunks in my yard -- that would be plain mean. I just want them to stop digging burrows next to my foundation which then leads to (a) water seeping into my basement and damaging the foundation wall and (b) access into my basement/house, as chipmunks have a tendency to chew into wood trimming near the house (e.g., windows, doors, etc). Otherwise, I find them quite lovely creatures with their shrilling chip, chip sounds. Land loons, you might call them.

Busy, Busy...CRACK!

Man, it should still be summer and time should be moving slowly, allowing me to appreciate the warm sun, bad tv reruns, and walks along Lake Harriet. Instead, I feel the bustle of the new school year beginning. I find myself overloaded at work but struggling to get organized. Ah. The madness of Fall.

So what do I do all day? I spend my day mainly sitting in front of my computer and (from this position) write and respond to emails, read and research articles, write when there is a moment, and more. Consequently, I have developed the nasty, much talked about, repetitive stress problems in my hands and arm. Not quite carpal tunnel but annoying, achy, numbing, painful.

So, I went to see an internist at my health clinic and she said nothing new. Lots of "yup, yup, yup, you diagnosed the problem already" kind of talk. She said to continue to monitor it for another month. If it does not get better, I should return to the clinic for a hand therapy referral. Well, not much help.

Then, I decided to go to a chiropractor for the first time in my life. I love getting massages and often thought about getting a chiropractic adjustment. I just never got around to it. It is sort of pricey and always seems a bit of a luxury item. But for whatever reason, I finally got enough motivation to schedule an appointment. I went yesterday to a person who was referred by a friend.

Now, I have to confess that I am a bit skeptical about the beneficial claims of chiropractic treatment, but I do believe it has some benefits. It is more the way in which they tend to sell the benefits that bothers me. I am just a rationalist and skeptic at heart and it's best to avoid holistic talk with me.

So, there I am in the office of Dr. S. I am a bit nervous and excited. My arm is feeling a bit numb and tingling with pinched nerve pain. My hands are achy. After a brief medical history, she asks me to sit on the table. The first helpful comment is that I have bad posture. Specifically, I have weak abdominal muscles and need to learn to straighten my back and neck. Then, I am asked to lay down on the table. After feeling my spine and shoulders, she makes an attempt at adjusting my upper back (near the shoulders). No go. Too tight maybe. Then, she moves to my mid-lower back and makes an adjustment. CRACK! Whoa. Feel some pressure relief and my rib (which I sadly had pulled a few months ago from a coughing fit) aches a bit. Then, she moves to my neck. Feels around for a bit and then CRACK! One loud crack. Satisfying. Then, she move my neck the other way and CRACK, CRACK, CRACK. Ah...very satisfying. She ends the session by doing some deep tissue massage and muscular manipulation on my arm.

I left feeling a bit better. My neck motion was better and my arm felt okay from the massage. Later, my rib hurt more which I am not sure is a good or worse thing. As the evening progressed (and into today), I have found my neck cracking quite easily when I turn my head side to side. Dr. S. told me to not force any neck cracks but these just seem to happen more readily. My hand and arm still hurt some when I type but not as much tingling today.

So, it seems like it was helpful. I will go back on Tuesday for a follow-up and hope to see more improvements.

Meanwhile, back to being busy, busy......CRACK!

BWCA -- Here we come!

I won't be blogging for a few days because I left yesterday for the Boundary Waters Canoe Area (BWCA) where I will be canoeing, portaging, camping, fishing, and sitting under (hopefully) a moonlit sky!

Hit and Run

Last night, per every Wednesday, I spent the evening with group of my guy friends but this time it was to celebrate my birthday. Because the weather was so beautiful (after the grey storm clouds passed through), we elected to ride our bicycles in the city. I was excited because I had my new/old bike and we planned to ride to Cedar Lake for a midnight swim. After making a few stops around town and singing some karaoke at the U Otter, we rode out to Cedar Lake and swam under a full moon. It was a perfect end to the evening. Afterwards, some of us grabbed a late night bite to eat and others headed straight home.

Awakening this morning, I checked my email and learned that one of my friends on the ride, Christopher (aka CC), was struck by a car as he was riding back home. It was a hit and run, in which the car turned right and struck CC who was riding on the right shoulder of the street, knocking him hard to the ground. Like an idiot, the driver didn't stop and just drove off. Fortunately, CC was okay, albeit seriously banged up. The ambulance came, the medic checked him out, and he was able to go home to sleep/rest/recover. CC also was very lucky because he was not wearing a bicycle helmet.

It is yet another reminder for us all to wear helmets and use lights/reflective gear when riding our bicycles. I know helmets mess up hair and make us hot/sweaty but they do save lives. I think my generation is more averse than younger generations to wearing helmets because it was just not done when we were kids. No one wore helmets growing up. These days, most children do wear helmets and just grow accustomed to it. Much like wearing seat belts when in a car.

I'm thankful CC is okay and thankful to have a great group of friends to celebrate my birthday. But please everyone, wear your helmets!

Birthday and Bicycle

Today, like one year ago (gasp! shock!), is my birthday. According to the NYTimes On This Day, I was born on the exact day that...

Actress Sharon Tate and four other people were found murdered in Los Angeles; cult leader Charles Manson and a group of his followers were later convicted of the crime.

Hm...not a very happy thought. Let's see, it's also the anniversary of the publication of Walden by Henry David Thoreau, the nuclear bomb being dropped on Nagasaki, Richard Nixon's resignation, and famed developmental psychologist Jean Piaget's birth. So, it's a mixed bag of anniversaries.

On to some more pleasant news!

After my recent trip to Holland, I was even more inspired to buy an upright touring bicycle. My other two bicyles (Bridgestone MB-3 and XO-3) are great retrogrouch bikes but they require me to lean far over the handlebars. Frustratingly, I bruised my ribs about 4 months or so ago and it still hurts to lean over for a prolonged period (note - I'm definitely getting old because I am not healing fast anymore). So the Bridgestones have been quietly sitting in my garage and I had been searching for used bikes on Craigslist.

I came across a Schwinn bicycle for sale on Sunday and Holly and I went out to Plymouth to check it out. The guy who was selling it has a slew of bikes in his garage. He finds/buys old bikes, fixes them up, and sells them. Holly bought the bike as a birthday gift for the reasonable price of $60. Very sweet of her. Best gift for sure.

Here is a photo of my new/old 1966 (made in April based on the serial number) Schwinn Collegiate Tourist bicycle! The Schwinn is sweet. It's a 5-speed and rides smoothly, 40 years later. It has Weinmann cantilever brakes, a Mesinger seat, and a Sprint shifter and derailer. Plus, it's a great sky blue color with white trim. The white handlebar bag is a NOS (new old stock) from the 1970s. It's cute but not super functional because you can't put anything too heavy in it. It seems the bike is from the St Cloud area based on the bike registration decals that date back to 1967 when the bicycle was probably first purchased. I love this sort of history.

Funny enough, I searched online for info on the bicycle and found the original 1966 Schwinn bicycle catalog with photos and pricelist. In 1966, this bicycle cost $59.95! If you want to read the specs (why? who knows!), click here to view the image. Amazingly, it has retained it's exact sticker price.

Can't wait to get off work to ride around the lakes and about the city tonight for a late evening birthday ride.

Blog Anniversary

It was one year ago today that I began FamiLee Life as a blog experiment. Here are my first two posts (here and here). Since its humble beginnings as a means to distract myself from studying for the EPPP psychology licensure exam and as a means to get all the random thoughts out of my head, it's gradually evolved as another way for me to communicate about academic life, psychology research, race and culture in American society, and the art world. Plus, I often just ramble about absolutely nothing. Well, I hope some of you have enjoyed it. Happy Blog Day!

I'm Back!

I am back in town! Just returned from three weeks in hot, hot Europe. Departed on July 8th for London and returned on July 29th from Amsterdam. In between, we spent time in Paris, Norwich and Cromer in northeast England, and Leiden and the Hague in Holland. It was a wonderful trip. But as always, nice to be back home even though we arrived back in the midst of a heat wave with temperature in the 100s. Thankfully, my home has central air conditioning.

Once I catch up at work, I will try to fill in the details of the trip and resume my usual thoughts about nothing and everything. Stay cool.

Were I a Taller Man....

Here is my dream bike. Unfortunately for me, this particular bicycle for sale on ebay is 5 inches to big for me (it's meant for a 6 footer). It is a Bridgestone XO-1 which was the top of line for this style of Bridgestone back in 1993 or so when Bridgestone still sold bikes in the United States. I own a Bridgestone XO-3 from the same year in the same color, but its frame and componentry are not in the same class.

If you want to read more about Bridgestone bicycles, click here. Maybe some day, I will travel to Japan and pick up a new Bridgestone. Here is the current Bridgestone website. It's all in Japanese, but you can click on the left column to see the wide variety of bikes still being produced.

Back Home :: Part II

I returned to Mpls yesterday after a long weekend with my father in Connecticut. It was good to spend time with him and to help him with the exhibit installation. I was surprised by how smoothly it all went. My dad has painted furiously over the past couple of years and, in the end, he had 55 paintings jam packed into the space. It was an impressive feat, although about 10 paintings actually did not fit on the walls and were leaning against the wall or put up on easels. I still think there were too many paintings but he really wanted to show everything. It's his show, so I conceded. The opening reception will be on Thursday evening.

While in CT, it was great to visit with my 93+ year old grandmother who, in fact, did ask me about my romantic life and made sure that I was going to church. She also asked what I did during the summer because school was not in session. Do I still go to the office or do I have the whole summer off? Ha! I wish!

At some point, my grandmother and I - using simple Korean to communicate - moved on to the topic of adoption. It was an interesting conversation because she did not know the korean word for adoptee - ibyang (side bar - My father explained to me that the Korean word for adoptee is based on Chinese characters and this might explain why she didn't know it). I then went on to explain that some Korean people are not raised by Korean parents. Instead, they are raised by "American" (i.e., White) parents. Her response was interesting. She used a Korean word that was not familiar to me. She said, "Oh, bool ssang ha da." I asked my dad what this word meant. He was fairly roundabout in his translation, due largely to his own English vocabulary. He said that bool ssang ha da is said to someone who is an orphan or a child without parents. Rather than a noun that describes the person's status or role, it connotes pity or sympathy for the person because of his/her life situation as an orphan.

I am not 100% on this translation of the word but it got me thinking. Specifically, it gave me another perspective to help understand Koreans when they meet adoptees. Often, I hear from adoptees that they do not want sympathy or pity from native or immigrant Koreans but often are treated in this manner during interactions. I also observe this type of exchange whenever I see adoptees and immigrants/natives getting together. At least for my grandmother and perhaps for others of the older generation, the strong neo-Confucian value on family and a person's role within the family defines a person's identity. In the absence of this lineage, a strong feeling of loss and sadness emerges and is expressed as bool ssang ha da.

Well, let me research this term/concept a bit more before making any stronger commentary.

[UPDATE - My laptop will not convert Korean text for some reason, so I asked Holly to do an online English-Korean translation of the word "pity" and it indeed came back as bool ssang. The translation for orphan was not bool ssang. Instead, it was a longer phrase that literally means "without parents."]

I also had a chance to meet up with some old high school friends of mine who also were in town for the holidays. After dinner with my father, his wife, and old family friends, I went over to Sean's parent's house. Sean (aka OD) and his wife, Jackie (who is 9 months pregnant), were up from NYC to enjoy a quiet weekend away from the city. Chris (aka Spanky) also was coming back through town from a week spent on the Cape. Dave still lives in CT and had an opportunity to join us for the evening because his wife and 4 kids (!) were away for the weekend. It was a great, relaxing time. We caught up on other friends' lives, gave updates on our own situations with work, family, fun, and talked about everything under the stars from genetics to fantasy baseball.

One of the most unusual yet great things about my childhood is that my high school friends have all for the most part stayed in close touch and have remained friends. There are probably around a doxen of us, now living all over the United States (CA, MN, SC, NC, IN, MA, NY, CT). We still attend each other's weddings (tho' fewer and fewer of us are not married) and some even get together for shared vacations. On holidays, we try to see each other at least for a night of revelry.

So, it was the perfect ending to my brief visit home. Although the trip came at a busy time, as I prepare for a three week trip to Europe, it was a good reminder to appreciate all the good people in one's life. Friends and family help to ground us all. Without them, perhaps people would look upon us and say bool ssang ha da.

Back Home

I arrived in Connecticut last night. It was a very humid day, following a week of on-off rain that has drenched the east coast. Feeling immediately sticky when I stepped outside the airport terminal, I was relieved to find my brother waiting for me at curbside. We settled in for the 20 minute drive home and caught up on things. It's always nice to see family.

I come back home about once or twice a year. Usually, it's once at Christmas (that's a given) and maybe once during the summer or for some family event (or emergency). It has worked out fine for me. I was born and raised in Connecticut but I never really yearned to come back home once I left. At seventeen, I was out and never looked back. Since then, I've lived in Great Barrington (MA) in the heart of the Berkshire Mountains, Boston (MA), Richmond (VA) - the Capital of the Confederacy, Davis (CA) - Bicycle Capital of America, Sacramento (CA), Austin (TX) - Life Music Capital of the World, and now Minneapolis - The City of Lakes.

As I mentioned in a previous post, I am here to help my dad with his art exhibit and to celebrate with him. It's exciting. He's already called me first thing in the morning to make sure I am awake, even though we can't start on hanging the frames till noon (3 hours away). He's excited for sure.

I am staying in my brother's house which is literally a skip away from my dad's place. Well, it's about 1/2 a mile down the road. Close. Too close for me but I think my brother handles it well. My dad, fortunately, is an independent guy, so perhaps it would not be so bad.

Here is my real and imagined itinerary for the short weekend trip. I plan to get dressed in a bit and make my way over to Dunkin' Donuts for some coffee and donuts. A true New England experience. I wish Minneapolis would get a DD franchise. It seems a shame. I love donut shops and don't find Krispy Kreme at Mall of America or way out in Maple Grove to cut it. A DD close to campus would be heavenly. There used to be Connor's Bakery near my house but it closed down last year. A real bummer.

After getting my fill, I will make my way over to the cemetary to vist with mom and tend the grounds. Then, I will head over to my dad's place to say Hello to my 93+ year old grandmother who is still alert and healthy. She will probably ask about my romantic life and make sure I am going to church. We will laugh too. She always laughs. At noon, my dad and I will head over to the town library to start with the installation. I expect it will take all afternoon. Afterwards, my dad, his wife, and I will likely go grab some Korean food for dinner. There actually is a very good Korean-Japanese restaurant in Hartford and it's not a dive either. Ichiban is my dad's stable and he probably eats there on a weekly basis. He walks in without waiting for a hostess and almost always will seat himself at a big long table near the back of the restaurant. It's like his Cheers moment or something.

Tomorrow will be a day of rest, I hope. I will check on the exhibit and see what little things need to get done. Otherwise, I hope to visit with a high school friend or two and use the day to relax. We shall see what transpires.

Until I return to Mpls...

A Belated Father's Day

By Ung Lim Lee

Next weekend, the 1st week of July, I will be traveling home to Connecticut to visit my father. Well, that's not very exact. I actually am going home to attend my father's very first public art exhibit at the town library. He is now 73 years old, retired (though he still works a bit at the family business), a widow, remarried, and spends a lot of his days painting. Painting has been his life long passion since his childhood in Korea. I am very proud of him and can't wait to see the exhibit and to see the joy on his face.

My father grew up in Sariwon in northern Korea as best I can discern. I am hesitant with this fact because he has never told me exactly where he grew up. I learned this bit of family geneology from a great uncle who once drew me a family tree of my father's side. I do know that his family was Christian (3+ generations in NK), which is really not too surprising because Christian missionaries were quite successful in this region of Korea. They also at one time had some wealth, owning a pottery factory of some sort. I just recall my mom teasing my dad about having grown up doing nothing but playing Korean chess. My dad would just laugh.

His father (my grandfather) died at a young age from what we now believe to be tuberculosis. He must have only been around my age when he died. It was hard to get medicine back then during the Japanese occupation. As the oldest child and only son, my dad was responsible to care for the family. I am not sure how this all occurred back then because he was still so young. Plus, my father had lost his left arm (just below the elbow) in some mysterious train accident when he was still a boy, around 13 years old. Not surprisingly, my grandmother was a strong presence in the family (and throughout my childhood).

What I do know is that my father studied art in high school and eventually at Hong-Ik University when the family migrated and reunited in Seoul during/after the Korean War. He never graduated from Hong-Dae though. I recently asked him why not and he only replied that he changed his major and didn't have enough credits. I suspect the family also ran out of money. Times were tough back then.

All these years, art has sustained my father. He worked in advertising for over 25 years prior to starting a family business, but he always was doing art from painting to inventing. Growing up, I remember art supplies everywhere. We didn't have lots and lots of toys but I had my pick of charcoals, paints, markers, pens, tape, rulers, sliders, drafting tables, velum paper, etc. He taught me how to write in blocked letters, how to shadow, how to use perspective, how to draw faces. I still remember, if I jar my memory and practice.

Yet my father never had an art exhibit. Instead, he just painted and painted and painted. Changing his techniques and media from time to time. He painted on the cheap. He had old beat up brushes, used scrap wood for a canvas, and always looked for art sales to buy paint at a discount. He would buy cheap, factory produced paintings, cut out the painting, and simply use the frame for his own art.

In 2002, my mother was planning an art exhibit for my father to celebrate his 70th birthday. He was very excited and was painting a lot back then. Unfortunately, my mom died just less than a month before the slated exhibit date. My father also had his share of health problems and the exhibit never materialized. For a couple of years, my father put down the paint brush.

It's a bit delayed but my father's day is now upon us. I am happy, happy for him. He is getting to show his art to the world and he gets to do what he's always dreamed of doing. It may have taken 40 years of life in America but he is getting to finally live his American Dream.

Happy Belated Father's Day.

WikiHow :: The Tech Nerds DIY Guide

I just came across WikiHow and am slowing finding myself trolling the site. It's the Home Depot for tech minded people. But the site is not just about DIY tech-related stuff (such as LifeHacker). Instead, WikiHow is the community based "how to" manual for all sorts of things. For example, it gives insight into How To Have A Great Conversation or How To Tell Jokes Without Laughing At You