Friday, January 28, 2011

Your Mama, Part 2 and 'The Cutla'


1. I had lunch with my desk mate from high school, a published writer, and an esteemed Chinese scholar. Over Kim Chee and steaming hot pots of Bibambop we hashed over the Amy Chua firestorm, a cluster F, if there ever was one. These are the points she brought up: 'Amy is inferior in the sense, that she is American born, and not born in China. Her children are considered inferior because they are not pure Han Chinese, and the question is could Amy have gotten into Beida or Fudan, the crown jewels of Chinese academia? From the Chinese point of view, who cares about Harvard?' This is a woman who has busted all stereotypical versions of the 'quiet, docile' Asian, and pissed the mothers of the world off...a choke point you don't want to be trapped in. Warhol said it best. Everyone gets their 5 minutes of fame. How you accomplish that establishes your niche in this short life. Controversy is a flash point. Initially, visceral or divisive. But, it can also serve as the catalyst for intellectual dialogue; it makes you think. Over Irish Breakfast this morning, I thought, huh, I wonder how 'the middle Kingdom,' would have dealt with this? Gives you pause, doesn't it?

2. Jay Cutler. I prefer 'Cutla.' Talk about shit storm. 'Cutla' is the Chicago Bears QB who was diagnosed on Monday with a 2nd degree sprain MCL of his plant leg (the leg he needs to stabilize in order to toss a decent football down the field). The trainers and medical staff of the Bears held him out of the 2nd half of the NFC play-off game. Tweets from his peers around the league went viral and many of them questioned Cutla's 'desire and heart.' In other words, if 'Cutla' could walk, he could play. Perception is everything, and on the sidelines, Cutla looked remote and disinterested. Last Sunday, twittering did more damage to Jay Cutler's psyche than a 320 lb line man physically dropping him. The twitter room is a public galaxy; apparently a lot of NFL guys forgot that.

Sunday, January 23, 2011

'Your Mama..'


Once when I was a kid, and in the doghouse, I remember calling my mother 'a tiger' (she was always the bad cop) after she had given me a heaping dose of discipline. My father hearing my remark verbally blasted my sass. That was as close to emoting as it got in my Asian family. Amy Chua's book, 'Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother,' or essay, 'Why Chinese Mothers are Superior,' ventures into the X Games of parenting that no 'white' 'honky' 'haole' rents could possibly understand. Seriously. In a million years. The brouhaha is laughable. Chua's mantra of straight A's and draconian discipline is stunningly familiar; frames of references leapt up like old spooks in the attic. My parents' demands were a little different...um, honor roll, no TV except on the weekends, become a doctor or lawyer (never any other profession), if both were out of reach, than marrying a doctor or a lawyer was the next best thing, college preferably an Eastern school etc. and god help your sorry ass if you didn't get off the island and into a Mainland college. You might as well have been a roach praying for nuclear deliverance. Having chugged through high school populated by girls whose Asian mother's, Chinese, Japanese, Korean, called them 'ugly, or fat, or stupid' for most of their waking lives was not shocking. It was part of the culture. Call it old school. Or conditioning. And yet, in a sinister way, some of these same girls, emotionally battle hardened, were the brilliant mathematicians, and scientists of my class. My mother had six siblings. When one of them transgressed, my grandfather (a tall scary dude) would line up all six of them and hit them with a belt. Whack. Today it might be called child abuse. Whatever. On reflective days, I go back and think about how that affected (or not) my mother. To all the critics whose undies are in a bunch over the Chua book, stuff it.The challenge of academics, rocket fuel, to Asian 'rents supersedes all the western gobbly gook of nurturing. Crying? There is no crying in Asian families except over B's or C's. Park the emotional at the door. As for Chinese mothers being superior? Amy, I want some of what you're smoking. After $20,000. of therapy, I can rear view mirror all of that.

Friday, January 14, 2011

...And Jupiter aligns with Mars...


1. When the moon is in the 7th house...so, there's this guy, an astrologer, in Minnesota who shook up the psychic-mystic world this week by proclaiming that since the firmament is constantly moving, the astrological world, signs, days etc, had grown outdated and needed tinkering. An early Aries, according to this guy's paper, might ditch the ram horns and the life long horoscope clippings of all things Arien and move one slot up or down (depending on your view) to the house of Pisces. Hmmm. Uh, let me get this straight, the world's astrological signs, has suddenly been tweaked by some white guy in Minnesota? The earth wobbles. Hiccup. The sun's path alters slightly. If it ain't broke on the horizon, it might not need a fix.

2. Rooney Mara. Actor. Fincher's Salander. Has great pedigree. The Rooney's and the Mara's, respected families, dynasties, in the sports world, own two of the fabled and oldest NFL franchises: the Pittsburgh Steelers, and the New York Giants. The facts you learn net surfing.

3. Since we're kinda on the subject...the sports website, Deadspin, who published the alleged lewd cell phone photos and text messages from Brett Favre when he was a member of the NY Jets went viral with another priceless Jets expose. In a bizarre video that features Jets, head coach Rex Ryan (we never see his face, only hear his voice and his wife, Michelle)...hard to believe it's not them, uh, though, he does have a twin, but she unfortunately does not... in 5 minutes of a WTF foot fetish re-enactment that is hysterically bad, really really bad...has gleefully become the butt of New England jokes. See sly Wes Welker for confirmation.

4. The Tucson shootings...whither the Age of Aquarius?

Wednesday, January 5, 2011

Fire in the Hole


There's nothing like a little vac to put your tiny world into perspective. Once again in sync with the President and his family, like spawning salmon flapping upstream, I found myself flying into the islands of poi and lomi lomi; ukes, and azuki bean shave ice; long boards and a reincarnated 5-0. Without Lord Jack. Where Santa hangs ten as he hits the big sandy, and refreshes himself at Lappert's with a big scoop of Kauai Pie. But all was not bliss...tropical rain, not for the faint-hearted, dumped and deluged for days creating 'ponding' all over the roadways. However, beneath this slight inconvenience, the real story on the last day of the year was the public agitation over the passing of a law which will prohibit the selling and banning of fireworks ad infinitum. The locals were pissy. Shelves at Long's, Safeway, Times Market etc. were emptied daily. Uh, people were clearly stockpiling for the future. And for the Eve. If you've never been in the islands on Dec 31st, you haven't lived. It is the mother of all fireworks displays. As for the recently passed law...good luck, bro. Fireworks are part of the island heritage. It's like dogs' and beer at a baseball game. You never eva mess with 'luck' and a culture.

Back in the saddle, here are some Best of the Past year shenanigans:

Best Book...'Just Kids' by Patti Smith.
Best Short story...'Ask me if I care' by Jennifer Egan.
Best movies...'Winter's Bone' with Jennifer Lawrence as Ree in a jaw dropping debut; and John Hawkes who is sensational as Teardrop.
'Carlos' the five hour epic by the French director Oliver Assayas.
'True Grit.' The Coen Bros. I've seen the original a handful of times, and this is a great re-make of the movie. This version is the way the book was written. The Coen boys got it right. 13 year old Hallie Steinfeld blows everyone else off the screen.
'The King's Speech.' Colin Firth is da man.
'I am Love' with Tilda. The music, and Milan.

Belatedly: All hail to Tara VanDerveer and Stanford for showing Uconn who is 'boss hog' on the West Coast.