Tell or don’t tell.

So the other day while The Franksabunch™ was in line at Safeway, The Wife™ whispered in my ear, “That woman’s zipper is open, should we tell her?”  So, dear subbers and stalkers, put away the dishes and the Yahtzee, it’s time to play….

TELL OR DON’T TELL!

Open zipper

There’s a reason why God invented underwear…to prevent us from seeing the Netherlands when people walk around with their zippers open.  The nice thing about being a woman is that wahines, for some reason, have a free pass to crossing lines of intimacy usually reserved for family, spouses and proctologists.  Therefore, wahines can walk up to a female stranger and tell her that her fly is open without any fear of retribution.  Unfortunately, I’m not a woman, so I’m not afforded that privilege.  I would not want a woman (or man, heaven forbid), thinking that I was staring at his or her crotch!  You either come across as a pervert or as a, well, pervert and will either get hit or hit on.  DON’T TELL!

Stink breath

The benefit of personal space is that non-intimate acquaintances tend to respect it and stay out.  The downside of personal space is that it is exactly that…space, and not a wall, so things like Dr. Phil’s feigned morality and a coworker’s bad breath can penetrate through it and make you physically ill.  But what to do when the person next to you has breath that stinks more than a reality show starring a former Brady Bunch kid?  Well, in this case not saying anything can be harmful to your health, so tell that person to get some gum or move their bum to another seat!  TELL!

Booger

Nothing can entrance me like seeing a booger trying to emancipate itself from someone’s nostril.  I can’t help but stare at it when the person is talking to me.  But what do you do?  There is no nice way of saying, “booger” in the workplace, is there?  Neither can you motion with subtlety to let them know (unless you consider sticking your own finger up your nose subtle) without embarrassing them to no end.  And, pray tell, what do you expect that person to do if you do say something?  What if said person digs his nose and then offers to shake your hand when saying goodbye?  Luckily, like football players trying to pass you in premed, boogers are usually outside of striking distance and have little risk of reaching you, so keep quiet and take 2 steps back.  DON’T TELL!

Toilet paper stuck to the shoe

Like nerds dating hot wahines and David Hasselhoff looking sexy, the toilet paper stuck to the shoe is something I’ve only seen in movies.  But let us assume that this actually happens to someone you know.  You actually don’t have to say anything.  You could just go ninja and step on the TP when the person walks by you to create separation.  However, remember that for two dry things to stick together there must be something moist in between, which in this case is either urine or feces!  So unless you want your shoe to smell like the Manhattan subway, have that person remove their own TP.  TELL!

Best friend is settling by dating someone that is a bad match

If your best friend was about to get run over by a car, would you push him out of the way and risk bodily injury to yourself, or would you let him get run over and save your own skin?  TELL!

Just remember, folks…as the saying goes, “The truth shall set you free, unless the truth causes body fluids to be spilled on you in which case you should run for cover.”

——–

I had a chance to watch Planet BBoy, a documentary that follows certain crews as they prepare for the Battle of the Year.  I highly recommend it.  It not only shows some insane in the membrane bboying, but also delves into their personal lives.  For those of you from the “Chosun” land (aka Korea), you’ll find it extra touching (well, my wife did).  It is showing in very limited engagements, however!  (Check the website, but also call local theaters because I’m seeing discrepancies online about show dates.)  Here’s the trailer:

And for those of you who want to practice your head spinning at work:

Have a great week!

Deal or no deal.

So last week The Franksabunch™ went to watch a free (woop! woop!) screening of 21 (a fantastic movie) and The Wife™ wanted popcorn, so guess who went to get some?  Anyway, I walked up to the counter and….

F.bunch:  How much is the #3 combo (med drink and med popcorn)?

Girl: $10.50.

F.bunch: [raises eyebrow after a quick math calculation] But if I buy them separately it’s still the same price?

Girl: Yes, $10.50.

F.bunch:

What the frijoles, man?!  I somehow doubt that when most people order one of the 6 snack combos they are unaware that they are not really getting a deal.  At least at McDonalds you save 20 cents or so with an extra value meal!

All of this made me wonder…how often in life do we realize that we are not getting the deal we signed up for?  So, dear subbers and stalkers, here is The Franksabunch’s guide to “deal or no deal” on middle Earth.

Veggie Burgers

Do you really think that you’re eating healthy when you order a veggie burger?  Well, you’re not, unless that veggie burger is made up of sawdust and grass.  To compensate for the forfeited taste, the producers throw in fat and sugar.  (Just like an episode of The View.  Ouch!)  Eating a veggie burger is like walking into a strip club blindfolded…you may think you have no guilt but you still end up in nutritional/spiritual purgatory.  NO DEAL!  (On that note, I’ve never met a vegetarian who was ripped…they always have soft bodies.)

Plastic surgery

Everyone likes a good-looking man or woman, but if God made it small, then God made it small!  Many guys say that they don’t mind dating a girl with a plastic face as long as she looks like pre-Federline Britney, but remember…get in her jeans and your children will get her genes.  Marry for love, not looks, homies.  And to my wonderful wahines out there, remember that confidence grows from the inside out and not the other way around.  Marrying a girl who had plastic surgery is like marrying a druggie…one day you’ll wake up and find that all of your children look like Amy Winehouse.  NO DEAL!

Look, it’s the illegitimate love child of Eminem and the lead singer from Twisted Sister!  (I kid.  I kid.  She needs to go to rehab!)

The Presidential Election

Obama’s associates have been plagued by accusations of racism and invasion of privacy.  McCain used a racial slur targeted at Vietnamese people.  Hillary Clinton is, well, Hillary Clinton.  (Dearest Colin Powell and Elizabeth Dole, where art thou when thou country needest thou!)  Think your vote was for a great candidate?  A vote in this year’s election is like a contest of who can eat the most beans…no matter who wins, we all lose!  NO DEAL!

Tax exemptions

I used to think that claiming a low amount of tax exemptions was a good thing, because it led to a nice check from Uncle Sam in April.  However, when you think about it, it’s better to get more money upfront and, if need be, pay back the IRS later in the spring, is it not?  At least that way the money can collect interest in your bank account instead of languishing in the government’s coffers or used to purchase $40,000 toilet seats in Washington, D.C.  Getting a tax rebate from the IRS is like sending a steak back to the kitchen…you’re going get a meal with someone else’s saliva already on it!  NO DEAL!

Franksabunch™

This guy’s posts have become boring since he got married.  But at least it’s still free to visit!  DEAL!

Have a great week!  Don’t forget to floss daily (especially with those veggie burgers)!

———-

Final thoughts on America’s Best Dance Crew

• Status Quo: I thought it was only appropriate that they did their final act dressed up as circus clowns because, really, that’s what their performances are like.  Did you see the smirks on their faces before the “vote” was revealed?  They knew it was rigged.
• JabbaWockeeZ:  Epic.  That headspin at the end was insane! 
• Kaba Modern:  They killed it as well (amazing what you can do when MTV doesn’t change your music the night before!).  I liked how they finished their routine by turning their backs to the judges, since this competition is a sham.  (Anyone else besides me notice that?)
• This week:  The finale is this Thursday.  (Kaba and maybe some other groups will perform for fun.)  I’m hoping with all the internet uproar about the rigging of ABDC that Randy Jackson and company will let it be a real competition in order to purchase some credibility. 

Edit: Status Quo has been rumored to have stolen many of their routines from the hitting crews that populate and frequent Boston.  And this photo, the authenticity of which I cannot verify (but you can find it on the SQ facebook page), has been floating around of purported SQ members wearing a certain familiar mask.  What the hecka?!  And here’s another article that’s interesting regarding an MTV executive’s comments about SQ (favoritism?), and how MTV has been paying all of SQ’s expenses.

One last look!

Here is what Kaba Modern’s final routine would’ve been (muchos mahalos to Myles aka the Flyin’ Filipino):

And here’s an interesting view from someone who was at the taping.  It seems that all those cheers for SQ when they were made #1 in voting were edited in.

Next Week!

New post next week!  In the meantime, my thoughts on last week’s America’s Best (Rigged) Dance Crew:

• BreakSk8: The Spanish, Chinese, Romans and Greeks all had their turns as the best in the world but eventually had to step down.  BreakSk8, you are not an empire, much less a dancing crew (although nice try impersonating Kaba Modern in the beginning of your routine) so no surprise that you are OUT!
• Jabbawockeez: Nice job.
• Status Quo: I still don’t see much dancing, just more flips than Manila.  They couldn’t even do MC Hammer justice in a prior episode.  But I guess using a rubberband trick on a chair was good, uh, dancing? 
• Kaba Modern: Shafted.  I’ve read in multiple places that MTV changed their music the day before the show and Kaba subsequently had to change their routine.  No wonder they weren’t as sharp as they normally are.  The conspiracy theorist in me says that there is no way the producers—or whoever is calling the shots—is going to let 2 Asian American crews (Jabba has 1 non-Asian) in the finals, and Kaba getting dirtied last week (music switch and being placed in the bottom two) is proof positive.  I’m predicting that they will not let Kaba Modern enter the finals.  My_notes_to_self also heard through the grapevine that SQ got a little extra help as well from a professional. 
• Judges: I guess it doesn’t matter if you have judges who can’t speak English well because the show is more rigged than a WWE wrestling match.  In any case, did you see them all stand up to applaud BreakSk8 when they left?  Shane Sparks is a midget compared to JC!  Haha!

Well, at least Kaba Modern and Jabbawockeez got some good exposure out of this and that the ladies of America learned that Asian men can dance…except for me since I don’t dance, I just pull up my pants and do the rockaway with a cheeseburger in my left hand.

—-

Edit: So Kaba really did get kicked off.  This show is such a joke.  Randy Jackson should be ashamed of himself.  Or as Lil Mama and Shane Sparks would say, “Hisself.”

NCAA Tournament Xanga Challenge!

Edit: RUNNING OUT OF TIME TO ENTER!  REGISTRATION ENDS BY THURSDAY MORNING!

I am sponsoring the first (and best and most charming and most handsome and wittiest and, well, you get the point ) Xanga NCAA bracket challenge!

URL for group:  http://games.espn.go.com/tcmen/group?groupID=20503
Game Front: http://games.espn.go.com/tcmen/frontpage
Group: Franksabunch’s Xanga Pool
Password: franksabunch

This will be a non-betting pool (meaning no cheddar for the winner), but if you really want some cheese I can pull some strings to see if ibizajb will allow the winner to pinch his left buttock.  You can start registering for the pool and start filling out your bracket now.  I think registration ends this Thursday.  Even if you have no idea what a basketball looks like and think that O.J. Mayo is something you put on french fries, I’d encourage you to play anyways.  You’d be surprised how well some people do just choosing based on team colors and mascots (kind of like a presidential election, no?). 

One hint: for you anonymous people, when you set up an ESPN account, type in your xanga name as your first and last name because in the pool the entry will be publicly listed under your name and not the login you chose.

Let the carnage begin!

Xanga Stalkers (and peculiar guests)!

The Franksabunch™ has been on xanga since 12/04 and I have had all kinds of people leave their footprints on my site.  In my first few months I employed the use of a tracker to see who came to my site and from where.  One day, however, I found myself subjected to a case of the uber heebie-jeebies.  I found that one particular IP address was used to visit my site with various xanga names that were associated with my posts.  That freaked me out more than the thought of being doused in honey and forced to run away from a famished Dr. Phil.  I do not know if he actually created these xangas, somehow wrested control of them from the original owners or knew how to mess with the tracker, but it gave me chicken skin. Here are some examples of different xanga names I got from the same IP address those first few months.

You know what they say about coincidence…  If something weird happens once it’s coincidence.  If something weird happens twice it’s a pattern.  And if something weird happens more than twice it probably has something to do with the Church of Scientology.  (Read Dianetics and you, too, can become wacko like Tom Cruise!)  I figured at this point that ignorance is bliss and took the tracker down.  (Now I just glance on occasion at xanga footprints, which gives very little information.)

At my wizened state on xanga I’ve come to notice several patterns/types of xanga stalkers and visitors outside of your usual subscribers.

The blank xanga aka the peeping tom

These are people who come to your site but never write anything on their own.  It’s similar to a peeping tom who knows everything about you, but is completely in the shadows when you glance back. 

The cockroaches aka the non-commenter

You know how cockroaches somehow find their way into your house, run around and then disappear?  Just like the nefarious roaches, these xangans come to your site, scurry through your last 50 entries without commenting, leaving only footprints behind as they exit.  If you’re going to read all my writing in the past 6 months, the least you could do is tell me that it stinks more than a hippopotamus’ belch!

The random googler aka the pervert

There have been some strange google searches that have led people to my site.  Just the other day it was a search for “Alicia Keys Butt Cleavage” (I’m the #4 site, I kid you not).  One recent funny one was a google search for “Korean girls always close me on eharmony” (I’m #3).  Hmmm…me thunketh that someone out there has a fetish for Seoul Sistas.  Be careful of what you wish for, baller, she may ask you to give her your corneas one day.  Bwahaha!  Other searches have been far more salacious, but since this is a family show I won’t write them here.  (For the record, I think that Korean video is stupid…any med student knows you can get cornea transplants from cadavers.  Tssst!  I laughed at my wife when she cried watching it…then spent the night on the couch.)

The specific googler aka the obsessed fan

It’s insane in the membrane how many people google “franksabunch” prior to coming to my site, as if they are trying to figure out who I am.  It’s not that hard if you really try.  But for those of you incapable of doing so, here’s a hint — my last name isn’t “Bunch.” Also, not all franksabunches on the internet are me.  For example, there is someone using my xanga name to gamble online in Europe!  (Probably someone upset at all my jokes about the French.)  One cousin removed from the specific googler is the person who xanga searches my name (it would be easier just to subscribe, no?) or someone else, with the #1 xanga search referrer being a search for akikokim! (Just another thing that woman beats me at!  Drat!)  

The troll aka the person who needs to get a life

An internet troll is someone who goes around leaving incendiary, oh-no-you-didn’t! comments in order to get you to respond.  Potential reasons why he does this are to generate more traffic to his site, feed his boredom, or compensate for his lack of friends outside of the baristas at Starbucks who are paid to talk to him.  You should treat internet trolls like Jehovah’s Witnesses at the front door…ignore them and they’ll eventually go away!

The romeo aka the person who needs a date…now

This is the guy looking for love on the internet, leaving comments at hot wahines’ xangas to garner some love he has been missing since his mom took down his Heather Locklear poster.  These attempts are as obvious as a fart from Shaquille O’Neal, and only slightly less foul.  But be careful, young hustla.  Looking for love on the internet is like visiting a nudist colony or a presidential campaign, where what is promised isn’t necessarily what is delivered.

In the end, however, I really should not–and do not–get upset at who comes to my site.  Anyone choosing to write a blog should realize that they’re posting something available for the whole world to see.  So come one, come all, stalkers and weirdos…just make sure you leave an eprop!

———-

The best part about doing this post was looking back at my old entries.  It’s funny how much my writing has changed over the years (reflecting my own evolution). 

———-

Thoughts on last week’s America’s Best Dance Crew:

• Jabbawockeez — Killed it.  Much better than last week.
• Kaba Modern — I don’t think enough people realize that these kids (youngest out of all the competitors) are constantly creating new stuff, unlike other groups who rely on tricks and standard moves.
• Status Quo — At this point, it is inexcusable for the leader to be lost for a few seconds during a routine.  They mess up something in almost every show…they’re lucky they weren’t in the bottom two or they could’ve been eliminated.  These guys can dance, but rely too much on tricks…sooner or later they’re going to run out of them.  I think the Broadway episode will make the big boy–er, I mean fat lady–sing if they’re in the bottom two this week. 
• Fysh n Chicks — Great job and I think they should’ve stayed.  This is a dancing competition and they shouldn’t have lost to BreakSk8 who relied on athletics and flexibility!
• BreakSk8 — I can’t believe they’re still here.  They often use the same moves over and over.  The novelty of being on skates will wear off sooner or later and then people will realize that they’re just mediocre dancers once the clock strikes midnight and the glass skate falls off.
• The judges — I don’t care how well they can dance or how much money they make, but their bad grammar is making the English major in me cringe.  Everytime they mix up was/were and is/are I feel like sticking bamboo under my fingernails. 

And for the craziest thing I have ever seen, check the moves at 2:09 and the guy at 5:27.  (Here is another clip of 5:27 guy.)  Have a great week!  Don’t forget to vote for Jabba and Kaba this Thursday!

——-

Edit: WHAT IN THE WORLD?!?!?  I guess it takes more than a village for democrat governors and presidents to stay faithful to their wives!

Edit #2: Haha!  This doesn’t apply to you if you’re subscribed to me, silly wabbits!

The model minority to pick on.

Unlike many Asian Americans, I’ve never taken umbrage at being labeled as the “model minority.” In fact, I take it as a compliment.  Yes, I know that outside of Hawaii, Asians in America are more appropriately separated dichotomously, as opposed to a bell-shaped curve, in terms of socioeconomics, with the average Hmong being less educated than someone whose family was rich enough to escape Hong Kong before the Red takeover, but in general we do pretty well.  (I think the Southeast Asian groups as a whole will catch up eventually**.)

Though we comprise probably around 4% of the general population, across the nation we were roughly 20-30% of all the incoming 1^st-year medical students when I was applying for admission.  According to the U.S. Census in the year 2000, compared to Whites, Blacks and Latinos, the ethnic groups of Chinese, Japanese, Korean, Filipino and Vietnamese had higher family incomes and % of college degrees (except Vietnamese, who had a lower % than Caucasians).  Go to California and you’ll see that UCLA, USC, and UCI have been renamed the University of Chinese who Left Asia, the University of Spoiled Chinese (shame, shame on one of the Ting Twins for using steroids!), and the University of Chinese Immigrants.  In the medicine world, I’m starting to see more and more Jewish doctors being replaced in academia by Chinese and Asian Indians.

It’s so good/bad that Asians are being penalized for being Yellow when it comes to applying for school.  (The average Asian American had to score higher on his/her MCAT than any other race to get into medical school, when I got in.) 

The reason why my father moved from Taiwan with just $50 in his pocket was so I could be a model minority: someone who worked hard, did well in school and didn’t cause trouble, and not someone who spent his days collecting welfare, using his government cheese to fund his nights smoking out (something that spans all races).

And yes, I know that there is a lot of heterogeneity within Blacks, Whites, and Latinos, but that is irrelevant to what this post is eventually going to be about.

The only thing about the model minority stereotype that bothers me is that we’re so obedient and nice that we can be picked on with impunity, without any fear of retaliation.

A Golf Channel anchor got suspended for making a comment about other losing golfers wanting to “lynch” Tiger Woods, and yet John McCain once unapologetically said to the media, “I hated the gooks, I will hate them as long as I live,” without much uproar.  Yes, THE John McCain who is the Republican candidate for president and has more than a puncher’s chance at winning.  (John McCain suffered as a prisoner of war in Vietnam, but would it be okay if Giuliani was mugged in Harlem and in response said, “I hated the niggers,” to the Today Show?)  Duane Chapman, star of “Dog: Bounty Hunter,” was vilified nationally and had his show pulled for using the “N” word, and yet I have not heard a single peep (outside of www.angryasianman.com) about the University of Colorado newspaper column that Max Karson wrote, calling for Asian students to be kidnapped and forced to play Dance Dance Revolution and that they need booster seats (among other racist remarks he made).   

Now, obviously…Karson has more issues than Time Magazine.  One can only guess whether it’s possible that his mom didn’t breastfeed him enough, that his body resembles that of a prepubescent female, or that all the pretty Asian girls won’t give him enough cowbell to cure his Yellow Fever, but something decaying in his cranium causes him to produce misogynistic and racist diatribes that have gotten him suspended multiple times and even arrested (for making Virginia Tech comments in class sympathetic with the shooter).  With a misanthrope like Karson, the final solution would be to ignore him and then he’ll fade into obscurity and irrelevancy (probably what he fears the most in life besides women), but what ultimately bothers me is that the editors of his newspaper and one of their faculty advisors defended his column with the ubiquitous “freedom of speech” argument.  The truth is that those editors and faculty advisors are racially biased and cowards.  If Karson had written that African American students should be kidnapped, forced to eat watermelon and go practice dribbling a basketball, or that Hispanic American students should be kidnapped, sprayed with salsa and forced to pick strawberries, there is no way that column would have been published or that they would be defending it.  They are also hypocrites, defending his column with “free speech” and then removing the comments section (which prior to removal was overwhelmingly filled with condemnations of the post).

But the question still remains, why is there such a paucity of hesitancy in regards to attacking Asian Americans?  Is it, perhaps, because we have not lashed back violently as a group?  We do not have the Rodney King, Watts, or Zoot Suit Riots to wear as badges and for the media to bring up everytime there is unrest among the scions of the East.  Is it, perhaps, because we are viewed as the eternal immigrant, never truly American no matter how long we’ve been here or how well we speak English?  We can blame the national media and the ignorance of others all we want, but part of the blame should lie with us (Asian Americans).  Have we become complacent in our prosperity?  Are we unwilling to be cast in the same negative light as militants like Al Sharpton and Maxine Waters?  Have we forgotten that the United States of America was born out of a desire to lash out against tyranny?  Whatever the reason…

We should no longer sit silently as others impugn us. 

We should no longer stifle our rage when a young man like Michael Cho gets gunned down with 10 bullets, though he was not carrying a gun or knife himself.  

We should no longer play deaf when a presidential candidate calls us a derogatory, racist term.

We should no longer turn the other cheek when a Washington, DC, court allows a judge to sue a Korean immigrant couple for $65 million over a single pair of lost pants, causing them to shut their business down.

I’m not saying that we should be like other groups have in the past and commit violence, looting and attacking innocent people.  (I would never condone that or any other illegal activity.)  But within Asian America, we have a tremendous amount of financial resources and some of the best minds in the country.  Perhaps it is time that we start using them so that the rest of the country will learn that the Model Minority must be respected.  If we put aside our own prejudicial views against each other (i.e. Korean vs. Japanese) and rage together, then perhaps the other 96% of this country will know how much strength 4% can truly possess.  Perhaps it is no longer time to let the slumbering lion sleep. 

So stand up, speak up and be heard.  Otherwise your children will inherit a life devoid of respect. 

Can I get an Amen?

———-

**Just to be clear, the Hmong ethnic group is orginally from China (though they are not considered “Chinese”), where many of them still reside, but in a prior era a large number migrated to SE Asia (Laos, Thailand, Vietnam) and it is from this region that many Hmong have come to the USA from.

———-

If you would like to voice your opinions to Max Karson or the Univ. of Colorado newspaper staff, you can contact them at: max.karson@colorado.edu and newstips@thecampuspress.com (these emails are publicly listed on the newspaper website).

———-

My thoughts on America’s Best Dance Crew

• Who would’ve thought that JC Chasez from NSYNC would be the one who gives the best constructive criticism?  Why is Lil Mama there?  She only says one of 4 things in her critiques: That’s hot, I loved it, That’s tight, or You need to pick it up.  (I think Randy Jackson probably gets a cut of her album sales.)
• Can someone please put us out of our misery and kick BreakSk8 off the show?
• In the 1^st two weeks I was a big Kaba Modern fan, but now I think the JabbaWockeeZ are going to murder everyone and take the 100-large home.  (Next year I want to see Victor Kim and Quest enter this competition!) 

Have a great week!!!

Anger.

He doesn’t come around much anymore.

In the beginning he would visit often, finding his way into my dreams as if part of him refused to leave me alone on this earth as the last man of my family.  Perhaps it is because he feels I no longer need him, as I now have a family to call my own, or perhaps it is because the wound left behind after he died has healed…but visits by my father have become few and far between.  A few nights ago, however, I saw him again. 

One of the benefits of being in a dream is that you can exist at any age in your life, but still maintain the memories and wisdom of who you are today.  This one started with me as a married man, walking away from my wife after an argument.  What we were arguing about, I do not know, but does it matter?  Does it ever matter?  I then was transported to the beach as a child, frolicking among the waves without a care in the world, without the burden of responsibilities to shoulder.  A wave came and went, leaving behind sparkles in the sand.  Curious, I looked closely and saw a diamond…and another…and another.  I brushed my hand across the sand, revealing multiple diamond rings.  I picked these up in a hurry and ran home.

“Daddy,” I said, “I found these diamonds at the beach!  We’re going to be rich!”  But instead of echoing my enthusiasm, my father, in his younger, healthier days, sorrowfully looked away and walked into the next room.  I followed him, asked for an explanation and in response he told me that once when he was angry at my mother he threw her whole treasure chest in the ocean, something he has always been ashamed of.  That treasure chest is what I had found.

I went back to the beach and found the now uncovered treasure chest again.  There were diamonds and pearls, bracelets and jade, but in the corner there was a photo album which had gone unnoticed previously.  On the cover was a picture of my mother, young and beautiful, and the inside was full of pictures of my family, but something was wrong.  I didn’t remember having any memories of the moments these pictures captured.

I woke up then, wondering what the dream was supposed to mean.  I don’t pretend to know whether God allows our loved ones to return to speak to us in dreams, or whether He uses the memories of them to teach us a lesson, but this was not just another dream.

I watched my wife as she slept beside me, the sound of her breathing as soothing as the sunrise on a new Sunday morning.  I thought about our last argument and then it hit me…

Any moment spent living in anger is a moment spent living alone.

The reason why I didn’t recognize any of the pictures in the album was because the stories they portrayed never occurred.  When my father threw out the treasure chest in anger, he also threw away memories that would never be formed.  He threw away moments he could have spent loving his family.

Anger, you see, only serves to separate us from the ones we love.  How many times in our lives do we lose out on happiness because of it?  “A moment of anger can lead to years of regret,” my father was telling me.  “Don’t let that happen with you and your family.”

Looking at my wife I thought that no amount of anger is worth increasing the space between her and me.

There are some dreams that are forgotten, but not this one.  Not this one.  I won’t let it be. 

So I laid my head on my wife’s chest and listened to her heart beating, counting them one by one while I closed my eyes hoping that I would see him again soon.

—–

Have a great week!  Don’t forget to eat your vegetables and scrub behind your ears!  And happy Chinese new year!

The Franksabunch’s Guide to Buying an Engagement Ring.

So the other day, after being blinded by the diamond ring my wife was sporting, my friend started talking to me about purchasing one for his wahine.  (This friend shall remain nameless, in case his GF stalks my blog.)  After having a brief conversation with him I realized how little most men (including myself) know about this…  So in the interest of cro-mags everywhere I give you…

The Franksabunch’s Guide to Buying an Engagement Ring

(From a non-metrosexual, Man’s Man point of view.)

Stop!  Thief!

1^st step in buying a diamond ring is acquiescing to the fact that with diamonds, like coffee from Starbucks, you’re paying much more than what it’s worth.  Stop whining like New England Patriots fans and get over it.  (Somewhere in the world Tiki Barber is crying in a corner.)

Size matters.

But not in the way you think it does.  Ask any basketball coach about what he prizes in recruits and each one will tell you that you can’t coach height.  You can’t force players to be bigger.  But bigger also comes with a price.  Some of the tallest NBA players in history have been more uncoordinated than the Iraq war.  Remember Manute Bol?  Gheorge Muresan?  The same goes for diamonds.  The larger your diamond, the more likely you will sacrifice color (obviously you want a colorless diamond if you can afford it) and clarity (not having any inclusions visible to the naked eye) or your wallet.  Finding a colorless and with excellent clarity diamond that’s >1.5 carats will cost you your left kidney or half of Bolivia.  Sometimes it’s better to choose a slightly smaller diamond of better quality than a bigger one that’s unappealing.  Just ask the Portland Trailblazers, who drafted Sam Bowie instead of Michael Jordan. 

Nick Carter vs. the Backstreet Boys. **Oops!  Thanks for the correction, it’s Nick and not Aaron. **

Nick Carter is, arguably, the brightest star on the Backstreet Boys, but his solo career fizzled out like Giuliani’s presidential campaign and he was dumped by Paris Hilton.  The lesson here, boys?  One star burns brighter when surrounded by others.  Knowing that with increasing carat size you’re more likely to sacrifice color and clarity (or your 401K), one way to make your diamond appear bigger is to have diamonds on both sides of it.  (As opposed to solitaire, meaning one diamond on one band.)  The flash from the side diamonds synergistically boost that of the main one, making it look godly without being gaudy.  However, a classy solitaire can be beautiful as well, depending on your girl.  But if you decide to get supplemental diamonds, I would recommend getting channel set diamonds (diamonds set inside the band) instead of ones that would sit on prongs.  Those can make the original diamond look misshapen like Courtney Love before—and after—plastic surgery.  In general, don’t get too cute with the style of the ring.  You want something classy that will last, instead of something flashy that she’ll want to trade in 15 years from now.

Pride (in the name of love).

Most of the attention and adoration that your wahine will get for her ring is not from random strangers seeing the flash from across the room.  Rather, it’ll be from her girlfriends, and, fellas, trust me when I tell you that they will ask her where you bought it from.  Do you really want your wahine to go around telling everyone that you got her ring, the symbol of your undying love for her, from Costco?  Or, even worse, WalMart?  It will reflect poorly, not only on her…but also U2!  It’ll cost you more to get a ring from Tiffanys—as opposed to, say, Sam’s Club—but for a lifetime of being able to hold her head up when she displays the ring to others is worth it.  (Not to mention the free cleanings and better service when purchasing things.)   Every girl’s dream is to get a ring from Tiffanys, and why not make hers come true while making her friends insanely jealous? 

But in the end, just remember that the one jewel your wahine will truly treasure is you, and not some overpriced piece of rock.  So keep doing those crunches and stop farting in front of her!

And, finally, to back up what I say, here’s what I got the Mrs. (I would’ve gotten a bigger carat size but I’m still in fellowship and make less than the nurses!):

We’re going to be eating ramen noodles Monday-Friday for the next 3 years, but I guess it’s worth it!

Have a great week!  And don’t take this post too seriously…buy what you can afford and your wahine, if she truly loves you, will not say yes or no depending on what kind of ring you get her.

Edit:  Don’t forget to get that mammajamma insured!  (It’s cheaper than car insurance.)

———–

We’re going to check out the House of Prime Rib in SF this weekend.  Any steak place with a “King Henry cut” must be bomb diggity, but I’m a little cautious as a lot of the reviews on Yelp state that the workers there are prejudiced against Asians.  Anyone heard anything similar?

Death of a celebrity.

By now you have probably heard about the death of Heath Ledger, an actor known for roles in movies like “Brokeback Mountain” and the upcoming Batman sequel where he is the Dark Knight’s nemesis, the Joker.

I thought it was quite fitting that in his final role before he exited this earth that Ledger chose to portray a character whose permanently and joyfully contorted face belied the emotional maelstrom that churned underneath.

I don’t know all of the facts and some are purporting that perhaps Ledger had overdosed on drugs (prescription or not) and suffered from depression.  But even if these hypotheses are untrue, are they inapplicable to any other young actor’s death in Hollywood?

The life of a celebrity is symbiotic at best and parasitic at its worst.  You are dependent on the adoration of others for your survival, yet that adoration does not give way to love or anything that is remotely sustainable.  The Oscar awards are nothing more than Hollywood patting itself on its collective back, a pageantry that is the quintessential answer to the eternal existential conundrum…if no one watched it, it would not exist. 

Celebrities may have our admiration, but they do not have our respect.  Why else do you think that those at the pinnacle of their career all of a sudden decide to devote their lives to causes of humanity?  Perhaps it is also because they realize that fame and fortune do nothing for the soul.  And so they turn to satiating desires of the highest intensity…drugs, alcohol, sex and—dare I say—mail-order motherhood.

You cannot find redemption in a bottle, nor can you find peace in a pill.  Like is not the same as love, and a heart that tries to find warmth from without will always be cold within.

It is only fitting in this world that worships the celebrity as deity would the death of an attractive young actor ignite the blogosphere and media and cause more uproar than a deranged man throwing 4 children off of a bridge.

Many Hollywood legends have chosen to kill themselves with their own vices, while the Invisible Children in Uganda suffer without choices.  While the former is sad, it is the latter that is truly tragedy.

So where does that leave you and I, dear friends?  There is nothing wrong in mourning the death of Heath Ledger.  But the mourning should not just be for his death, but for the society that produced it.

I would not trade grace and forgiveness for all the gold in the world, neither would I do the same for its unending adoration.  And like I have said before, when it is my turn to go I will go down clutching hope instead of despair, because I have to believe in something.

So believe in yourself, believe in love, believe in redemption and forgiveness.  

But most of all, dear friends, believe in hope.