Monday, July 2, 2012
Soccer (that's football to the rest of you)
Sunday, July 1, 2012
People are stupid
Monday, April 16, 2012
Neighbors
· We have a good view out of the back of the house. No looking into the neighbor’s house and no neighbors looking into our house.
· Something we should have figured out on our own but we didn’t consider it when purchasing the home. Cows have a certain, how should we say it, odor that isn’t really the most pleasant smell in the world. Now I am sure for the farmer, it is the smell of money but for us….it’s the smell of poo (to steal the word from Mike Rowe).
· The morning cow alarm. I never realized how much noise the cows make but they seem to feel that it is their job to ensure everyone is awake by 7:30am. No rooster….no problem. They decide it’s time for them to “Moo” and do it rather loudly. Oddly enough there is a lot of different ways that this is done.
o There is the cow the sounds like a train coming “MMooooooOOOOOO”
o There is the cow that just stubbed his toe (and for the record, yes I know they don’t have toes) “MMMMMMOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAHHHHHH!”
o There is the small squeaky cow, “mmmOOOOoooo”
o The Barry White cow, “m-m-m-o-o-o(baby)”
o The baby cow, “moo” (short and sweet)
o The hungry cow “MmMmMmOoOoOo”
o The cow alarm, “moo……moo…..moooo”
Don’t get me wrong, we enjoy the house and having our neighbors but there are times when they get on your nerves. Now they do make up for the cons with the baby cows running around and playing together and watching them “run” to the farmer’s truck whenever he drives out to the field to drop something off.
There is one other situation that makes one a little nervous about the bovines in the backyard. In the early morning hours, when it’s a little foggy outside one cannot help but think about Stephen King when you hear the echoes of the cows grazing in the pasture and mooing as they find just the right spot to settle down for breakfast.
They just appear out of the haze and start to do what they do but you just get the feeling on those days that the cows are about to hop the electrified fence and come charging through the home on a murderous rampage. They just stand there, chewing the grass, staring at you but you can envision their eyes turning red as they continue to advance towards the house. Quick kids in the car! Oh No, someone has pulled the distributor cap from the engine (looking out the back window you see a cow chewing on the wires like a patch of nice tall grass). “Cooking steak will ya!?! Eat this t-bone!!!! How about another serving?” I don’t know, maybe it’s just me reading too many Stephen King novels. I am certain there is something that could come from this, Cattle of the Corn, Steak through the Heart, Stampede….
Anyhow, I digressed a little. It’s no different than 100 decisions we make every day in life but when purchasing a home, you’ve got to think much longer term and it’s so much more money there is a lot more pressure to get it right. If you can ensure that the Pros outweigh the Cons, chances are that you’ll get along fine (as long as you know the cons beforehand). We’re happy where we are but we wish the cows would give us another 30-60 minutes to sleep in on the weekends. I’ve put steaks on the grill with them watching to send a message but I don’t think that cows are necessarily the smartest animals on the planet and are able to put together that the sizzle and smell in the air is Maybelle who took a ride yesterday and hasn’t come back yet (she must be on vacation in Florida). Stupid cows!
I guess the bottom line is that I’ll take a bunch of smelly and noisy cows as my backyard neighbors instead of a family of clean and hygienic people. Now what does that say about me?
Sunday, January 22, 2012
Voting
Get out there and make your choice known or shut the heck up! If you don’t vote (and believe me I think there should be some kind of test to keep stupid people from voting but that’s a different post) then don’t complain about the outcome. Don’t tell me my vote doesn’t count because I know when I leave the booth, my guy has one more vote than the other guy.
Sunday, January 8, 2012
New Year's Eve
You’ll need some quick background information to help with the story so here’s the Reader’s Digest version (if this were Star Wars, I would call it a prequel but like Star Wars, the later episodes come first). About 2 weeks ago, my parents went to the local Humane Society and brought home a dog (at least that’s what they say it is). They got a short-haired Chihuahua (you ever hear of a long-haired Chihuahua? There is such a thing but when I think of these dogs like many others I think “Yo Quero Taco Bell”.) that is about 14 months old and looks like a small deer. The people at the HS said it was 5 years old and weighed 9 pounds….it’s actually closer to 14 months old and weighs about the same as a small bag of Doritos (Taco Flavored just to keep the theme working). My parents have gone through multiple dogs (just to be clear, the dogs died of old age…we are not Korean…but they were delicious) and after the death of Missy, it appeared that my parents were going to be “dog free”. However, things changed and it was decided that it was time to get another dog. It was a surprise but at least it wasn’t a poodle, I HATE those curly little rats! (It all started when I was five and I went to my grandparent’s house….sorry, I’ve missed my last several sessions with the shrink.). Jacob and Warren accompanied my parents to the Humane Society to pick up the dog and bring it home. It seemed like a very docile animal with none of that small dog “yip-yip” barking. However, the dog also seemed a little skittish (again, we’re not Korean and on that note, do you think Kim Jong Il is in hell right now with dogs chewing on his fat ass? Just a thought.). Anyhow, that’s the background, on to the story.
So, my sister is the first to arrive to help us setup the buffet table. We’ve got ham, spring rolls, samosas, veggies & dip, chicken fingers, buffalo chicken dip, chips, soft drinks, etc. Plenty of food for everyone…in the neighborhood. I was outside slaving over the deep fryer to get the spring rolls & samosas cooked so they would be fresh for the party, the spring rolls are always better when they are hot out of the fryer. At about 6:15 or so, around the corner comes my mom with the little dog in tow. It was sniffing around just like any other dog but became a little spooked when it saw Tammy and I standing there looking at it. Lilly (that’s the dog’s name) continued to check out the yard at the end of the leash but it would look back often to see what we were doing (pay no attention to the people by the deep fryer….and if you were wondering, yes she would easily fit into the fryer). I went over to take the leash from my mom so she could go inside the house since it was starting to get dark and cold outside. When the dog realized that the person connected to the leash was not my mom, it freaked out. It started to pull away from me and squirm. She had on a harness but somehow the dog was managing to free itself from the harness. I realized that the dog was escaping and tried to pull it in and move closer to grab it when it squirmed free. I almost had her but then she was out of the harness and on the loose. I asked my mom to come get the dog when it bolted for the neighboring town houses that were across the four empty lots by the house (the subdivision we are in is still “under construction”)`. I went inside to grab a flashlight and headed back out in the direction I last saw the dog. Warren headed out with me and everyone began to pour out of the house to find Lilly. I saw it in the distance heading behind a house and told Warren to run down the street and cut across the last house to see if he could cut off the escape route (it’s a classic pincer movement Patton used so I figured it would work on a little dog as well). So we’re all running around trying to find this small dog that could run pretty darned fast when she wanted to. We’ve got the cars out with headlights beaming into fields around the house hoping to see where she might have gone. The neighbors are coming outside their houses and we tell them we’re looking for a lost dog. [Editor’s note: Deep down, most people are pretty good about things like this. If you are just running through their yards, you get shot but if you tell them that you’ve lost your dog…they cut you a lot of slack and let you do whatever you need to do. One of my neighbors gave me one of those “deer spotter” spotlights to help find the dog. I gave it back because I wasn’t trying to prevent a ship from crashing against the rocks or send a beacon into space, I was just trying to find a small dog and it was overkill. Still, it was extremely nice for someone we didn’t know to allow us to use their stuff, even for a short time.]
We spent about 30 minutes running around, checking behind houses, walking through the thorn bushes and trying to avoid the electric fence that separates us from the cows when we finally made the tough decision to call off the search for a little while. With all the noise and a skittish dog, we were just as likely to chase her away as lure her closer so perhaps it was better to hunker down. We compared notes and essentially, no one had any idea where the dog went (I heard rustling this way, there are dogs barking over there…). I thought the dog had headed out to the cow pastures behind the house and was probably long gone (as long as she didn’t touch the electric fence). There was little we could do except to hope that someone found her and when they took her to the vet, the microchip that was implanted in the dog would tell them who she belonged to. Of course, New Year’s Eve was a pretty chilly evening and as you know, a Chihuahua isn’t exactly a small version of a Siberian Husky. We went inside and ate the moderately warm food (it was ready on time but the excitement of the dog’s departure pushed dinnertime back a little and tried to figure out what to do next.
Me: No, but I have seen her around the neighborhood and the food I put out is gone so I think she is eating. The neighbors have seen her as well and think it will just be a matter of time before she’ll be caught.
Mom: Okay, you let me know when you’ve found her.
Me: No problem, don’t worry I am sure she’ll come around eventually. [Hang up the phone] Now kids, you don’t tell your grandmother that we buried the dog next to the electric fence this morning. If she asks, you tell her you almost caught the dog. Warren, you tell her you tripped over your big feet and Jacob, you tell her that you were playing the Xbox Live and heard your brother tell the story that he almost caught the dog. Don’t worry, we’ll only have to tell this story until she either stops asking or they get another dog (after all, it’s not a lie if you believe it right? But deep down I knew that one of them would crack under cross-examination so I had to prepare the next lie to cover for the first lie. No, I didn’t bury the Lilly, it was a small deer.).
So it didn’t take us waiting up until midnight to have the excitement of the ball drop. For us, it was the dog pickup that made News Year’s Eve worth celebrating
Sunday, January 1, 2012
The Dating Game
Now just because I know that you are enthralled by my writing (or you are bored and have nothing better to do), I’ll take this a step further because it seems very strange to me to see a Chinese woman basically throwing out a line for a husband. The female-to-male ratio in China strongly favors the women (and hence it would stand to reason that it should be relatively easy to find a new companion for this woman). I should take a moment to explain that in China a male child, although desired to carry on the family name, is a significant financial burden on the family (I think this is true in all cultures, no such thing as a free kid). Many times I have heard it said that having a daughter means that you can have a better life. Why? It’s because of the traditional expectations for the family of the male child. The family must provide the male child with a place to live after he leaves the house, a car, an education, pay for his wedding and on and on the list goes. In other words, the family of the boy is expected to provide for him whatever the cost. The expectation is that later in life that they will be able to live with him (and his family) when they can no longer take care of themselves (or that is what they hope). The same monetary dynamic is not true for the family with a female child. Since the family of a female child does not have to save cash throughout her life, they can afford to do more things and buy more things. We’ve all heard the stories of the things that are done to ensure a male child in China (stuff that I will not repeat here) but with the number of females in the country, it would appear that attitudes are changing towards having a daughter. This also has major repercussions on dating in the country. The men are in constant competition to find a woman. We watched a show while in China on the dating scene in Shanghai for men and it was not a pretty picture. Not only did men have to compete with other Chinese men for a woman’s attention (and by competing, it was not always about the look, in many cases it was about the size of their…..wallet [what did you think I was going to say pervert]) but they were also in competition with any foreigners living in China. [Editor’s note: This is very similar around Asia; older Western males would go to these countries looking for a younger woman to take as their wife (or nursemaid). It got to the point where the Cambodian government had to issue a law that prevented foreigners over the age of 50 from being married to Cambodian women. There is also a second part to this law that requires the foreigner to have a monthly income of over $2,500 in order to marry a local woman (can you say pre-nup?) I wonder what the local women would get in a divorce settlement…but I digress.] So, problem #1 is the competition. I guess it would be like going to a high school where there were 50 girls and 85 guys and finding a date to the prom. The girls may first want to know who is renting a limo, the size of the limo, where they are going to eat, etc. before making the final decision on whose invitation they would accept. So the “best” guys are taken quickly and the women either choose to accept the 2nd and 3rd tier guys or they don’t go. Either way for the guys, many are going to be left out no matter what they have to offer.
If the guys were really serious about finding someone, they would go on a dating show (I don’t remember the name of it but each Province had their own version of this show). The dating shows on TV would have women judge the man as he was whisked along in front of the audience on a moving sidewalk and given the third degree by the ladies on the panel. It didn’t take much time for these ladies (imagine a panel of American Idol judges but they are a Chinese female version of Simon Cowell with PMS) to be picking the bones from the carcass as the man was given the thumbs down and off he went into oblivion (and typically it came down to the prospects for the man. What did he do for work? How much did he earn? Did he own an apartment? Did he have a car? Did he have a future? The show is called “If you are the one”. One Beijing woman (Ma Nuo) became famous in China for the phrase “I would rather be crying inside a BMW than laughing on your bicycle”. Some hated this woman because she was nothing but a greedy bi-atch but her remarks seemed to reflect the thoughts of many women in these larger cities in China). Combine this with a “one child policy” where each daughter is treated like a princess and you are in for a generation of women with high expectations that no man can meet (except “the Donald”). Not all Chinese women are like this but in the big cities where the money is, that’s where the problem is especially big for the men.
So how did I get here from QQ, I guess for me it’s easy to draw a line between what I see on QQ and what I saw when I was in China. In the US, we call people with 1 car, and only 1 big screen TV below the poverty level but in China (and other Asian countries), when they say “poor”, they mean P-O-O-R. Some will do just about anything to escape the poverty or to try and make their children’s lives better than their own. This is why there is such a competition for schools, jobs, husbands, etc. Helen is just following a path blazed for her by others; find someone who can meet your financial needs and roll the dice.
Sunday, December 25, 2011
Merry Christmas (there, I said it)
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSKhKwRoqmyC2w8R53fXALizLCha3RJadEIeA9ZIshBT3JYnOBzLy5S4qTLENl5H9xM8Ra41yO-FhL4wFvNSt8Dq2Aqc5x0My2uYcehrH-_ZABl7iwxoAvvFTpuK3rAWrnxKrGKurvIGxQ/s400/Untitled.jpg)
What is most interesting to us is that in China, people say “Merry Christmas” (and they are not arrested on the spot, no beating with rubber hoses, no stonings, no one correcting them and indicating it’s the winter holiday.). Consider that for a moment. In a country where there is a very small number of Christians (and the Chinese Christians in China go to State-approved churches that are monitored very closely to ensure there is no risk to the State from those attending the services), the stores put up decorations for the Christmas holiday and you see images of Santa all over (in some cases, the Christmas decorations are up for the entire year but that’s a different post). When they see a Westerner this time of year, they will say “Merry Christmas”, not with a sneer, not with a laugh but with a smile…“Merry Christmas”. Just to be sure the point is crystal clear, in a communist nation where the government rules with an iron fist, it’s “Merry Christmas”. In Thailand, where the majority of people are Buddhist, they say “Merry Christmas” (and we know this because we were in Thailand on the beach this time last year….best vacation ever!). So, once again, even where the religious beliefs do not follow the Christian doctrine, they respect the belief enough to say “Merry Christmas”. In the land of the “free and the brave”, we say “Happy Holidays” and hold out hope that we haven’t offended anyone.
Now I am not the most religious person, my faith is a personal thing and I don’t tend to openly discuss it just because I can. People can choose to believe as they see fit, that’s why people are given free choice. It just makes me wonder where Christmas will be by the end of my lifetime. I will continue to say “Merry Christmas” and if you are offended….tough luck (and to all a good night).