At Robert's sister's graduation luncheon (Korean BBQ, always a winning choice) I was winked at by a baby. And it was totally in the correct context!
Let me back up a moment here...at the table was Robert's mother, his two aunts, one of his younger cousins and his baby cousin, Angelito. Little Angel isn't even two yet, can't speak and sits in a high chair where he was content to wave happily at anyone and everyone he saw. After gorging ourselves countless plates of BBQ (myself, I stuck to massive amounts of kimchi), I got up to go get an ice cream cone with the little girl cousin and brought one back for Angel who lit up like Christmas when he saw it. Gazing rapturously at the cone in silence for a brief moment, the baby lifted his eyes to me and his expression seemed as if the Virgin herself had delivered unto him that double chocolate fudge cone; he watched as I made my way to my seat on the other end of the table before taking the first few bites and gurgling happy baby noises.
The next time I looked his direction, Angel was smiling full force at me, coyly "hiding" behind his ice cream cone and peering around it before diving behind the shelter a waffle cone provides. Aha, I thought, peek-a-boo! I returned the gesture with a smile of my one, noting that kids have always had an affinity for me, when Angel peered out from behind his ice cream again, looked me directly in the eye with a mischievous smile and winked. I'll repeat that in case it didn't quite hit you: a baby, who cannot even say "mama" yet, winked at me. Winked at me after I had brought him an ice cream cone. Winked, flashed a smile, and then lifted his ice cream aloft as if he was toasting me.
You know how in Star Wars much is made of Luke Skywalker's innate connection with the Force? Yeah, this kid is clearly in touch with the Game on a similar level. (And by Game, I am referring to the one that players are always exhorting us to transfer our hate to.) Perhaps Angelito may never be a doctor or a lawyer, but how many of us can remember Casanova's church career? Destiny, little Angel, destiny.
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Saturday, May 8, 2010
I don't have a plan.
Not really. I mean, I have ideas, allusions, inspirations, but despite my love for all things organized and categorized, I personally swirl about in a semi-solid cast of decisions. No map, just taking things as they come, with speculations abound. I don't know anyone who has a plan, or that actually sticks to one step-by-step, maybe those gloriously dutiful people exist somewhere out there in the blogosphere or maybe they too are a myth like the Loch Ness or Lindsay Lohan's comeback.
I'm clever, but not nearly clever enough and I do know that I can toe the line of being cloyingly precocious. The kind you want to punch in the teeth. I like to think of myself as intellectually capable, but I wish I had genius. Genius is sexy. Genius makes money.
(On the other hand, genius can also mean that one minute you are an unbelievable chess champion, the next a bitter, old anti-Semite, like the late Bobby Fischer. I, on the other hand, am a really nice person, is this my trade-off?)
I'm clever, but not nearly clever enough and I do know that I can toe the line of being cloyingly precocious. The kind you want to punch in the teeth. I like to think of myself as intellectually capable, but I wish I had genius. Genius is sexy. Genius makes money.
(On the other hand, genius can also mean that one minute you are an unbelievable chess champion, the next a bitter, old anti-Semite, like the late Bobby Fischer. I, on the other hand, am a really nice person, is this my trade-off?)
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
Not entirely certain why I felt like bringing this up, but I guess I just cannot get this simple, meaningless exchange out of my head. I was at a childhood friend's wedding the other night (which was absolutely beautiful and I am not one to gush about weddings) and I was chatting with another old friend of mine, complimenting each other's sundresses when her new husband pointed at my shawl and asked what was on it.
It is a printed green shawl, with images of Ganesha stamped on it and Sanskrit lettering* and I told him as much, with a smile until he pointed to the lettering and asked, "So, what does that mean?" Here his tone turned mocking as he continued, " 'Cows are God?' " He laughed a bit at that, I cannot remember what his wife did, nor can I picture what my expression was (I have this gift of conveying instant disgust or offense), but I did manage another, sweeter smile and corrected him on its meaning, while adding that Ganesha brings joy and good luck, perfect for a wedding.
And here I have to ask...why did he have to say that? What purpose was he trying to achieve by sounding ignorant at best and extremely rude at worst? After all, he had no idea why I was wearing it, he has no idea what my personal beliefs are. I mean, I shouldn't be surprised at him making assumptions about my religious identity-- everyone there is or was raised in a Protestant Christian household-- but why go the extra mile and sound so narrow-minded and chauvinistic? I would never make an insulting remark about another faith in mixed company, although hopefully I would refrain from being insulting in all occasions, but the glaring cultural insensitivity struck me. This is from a guy who is supposed to be a leader at his church? Yikes. Let me clarify, I wasn't personally offended, just kind of embarressed to be in a converastion with someone who approaches anything "other" with that kind of childish mentality.
I find this attitude running rampant through those tightly-knit communitites where any interest in what may lie outside of the established orthodoxy is viewed with suspicion, shock and disdain. It reminds me of another religiously-themed discussion that took a sudden detour into the judgmental and ignorant: I was talking to a friend's mother when I was 17 about the book I was reading (which happened to be the Dalai Lama's autobiography, "My Land, My People") and had barely noticed her look of discomfort as I was mentioning the architecture of this Buddhist temple that has been across the street from my childhood home from the last 20+ years. I wanted to discuss religious architecture in general and its influences and similarities and had literally said, "The inside of the temple gives off this feeling of..." when she cut me off with a snap response: "Evil!" I was not quite as composed at 17 as I am now (was anyone?) but I did manage to respond with, "Um...no. Not at all." I then quickly mentioned the high ceilings that are so common in religious architecture of all faiths to convey the transcedence and permeating presence of the ineffable before scuttling off to talk to a friend of mine.
So I guess...wtf people? Why the fear and intolerance?
*I was informed by a gentleman in Laguna Beach that the Sanskrit more or less meant "hare Krishna", which in turn is translated, in its full devotional form, to "O energy of God, O God (Krishna), please engage me in Your service". I do not claim to have bought this shawl specifically for the lettering beyond its aesthetics, but I think it's only fair to understand what I'm wearing in a cultural context. Plus, how much smarter do I appear when I can translate the Sanskrit on my wrap?
It is a printed green shawl, with images of Ganesha stamped on it and Sanskrit lettering* and I told him as much, with a smile until he pointed to the lettering and asked, "So, what does that mean?" Here his tone turned mocking as he continued, " 'Cows are God?' " He laughed a bit at that, I cannot remember what his wife did, nor can I picture what my expression was (I have this gift of conveying instant disgust or offense), but I did manage another, sweeter smile and corrected him on its meaning, while adding that Ganesha brings joy and good luck, perfect for a wedding.
And here I have to ask...why did he have to say that? What purpose was he trying to achieve by sounding ignorant at best and extremely rude at worst? After all, he had no idea why I was wearing it, he has no idea what my personal beliefs are. I mean, I shouldn't be surprised at him making assumptions about my religious identity-- everyone there is or was raised in a Protestant Christian household-- but why go the extra mile and sound so narrow-minded and chauvinistic? I would never make an insulting remark about another faith in mixed company, although hopefully I would refrain from being insulting in all occasions, but the glaring cultural insensitivity struck me. This is from a guy who is supposed to be a leader at his church? Yikes. Let me clarify, I wasn't personally offended, just kind of embarressed to be in a converastion with someone who approaches anything "other" with that kind of childish mentality.
I find this attitude running rampant through those tightly-knit communitites where any interest in what may lie outside of the established orthodoxy is viewed with suspicion, shock and disdain. It reminds me of another religiously-themed discussion that took a sudden detour into the judgmental and ignorant: I was talking to a friend's mother when I was 17 about the book I was reading (which happened to be the Dalai Lama's autobiography, "My Land, My People") and had barely noticed her look of discomfort as I was mentioning the architecture of this Buddhist temple that has been across the street from my childhood home from the last 20+ years. I wanted to discuss religious architecture in general and its influences and similarities and had literally said, "The inside of the temple gives off this feeling of..." when she cut me off with a snap response: "Evil!" I was not quite as composed at 17 as I am now (was anyone?) but I did manage to respond with, "Um...no. Not at all." I then quickly mentioned the high ceilings that are so common in religious architecture of all faiths to convey the transcedence and permeating presence of the ineffable before scuttling off to talk to a friend of mine.
So I guess...wtf people? Why the fear and intolerance?
*I was informed by a gentleman in Laguna Beach that the Sanskrit more or less meant "hare Krishna", which in turn is translated, in its full devotional form, to "O energy of God, O God (Krishna), please engage me in Your service". I do not claim to have bought this shawl specifically for the lettering beyond its aesthetics, but I think it's only fair to understand what I'm wearing in a cultural context. Plus, how much smarter do I appear when I can translate the Sanskrit on my wrap?
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