Ted And The Paranoia Of Reading Asian American Blogs

Asian American blogs are great. They are wonderful resources that I wish I had when I was growing up. Being raised in the Midwest, I had no clue about the events affecting AA's around the country. There was a distinct feeling of isolation, as if I was the only person going through this Asian American reality. Now there is a whole universe of websites and blogs posted by other AA's who I can relate to and gain insight into my own experience.

However be careful what you wish for. Blogs like Angry Asian Man publicize the wonderful achievements of AA's but they also frequently write about the ugly side of discrimination in America. Whether the discrimination is overt or intentional, this steady torrent of racist acts against AA's soon started making me paranoid. Did somebody just make a racist remark to me at work? Was I passed up for a promotion because I'm Asian? Did somebody just cut me off on the road because I'm not white? Or are all these feelings just in my head and I'm overthinking situations?

I recently saw the movie Ted. I loved that movie. I hadn't laughed so hard in the theater in a long time. There is a scene in the movie though that made me feel uncomfortable. During the party scene, Flash Gordon punches a hole in the apartment wall clear through to the adjacent apartment. Who is on the other side? An Asian dude holding a live duck. He starts screaming at the partiers in thick Chinglish claiming he was about to cook the duck for dinner. Mayhem ensues. Granted Seth MacFarlane's claim to fame is his offensive humor directed at all races, religions, and sexual orientation. See his TV show "Family Guy" for an example. But during "Ted" I couldn't help but laugh self-consciously and uncomfortably at the chaos on screen. Isn't this a little too racist for the 2010's. Would the audience laugh as hard if they showed a black person getting ready to eat fried chicken?

I used to laugh at Asian characters in other movies that are now considered racist. Remember the infamous Long Duk Dong in "Sixteen Candles"? The play on Asian sounding names as well as his foreignness are clearly there to get cheap laughs from a Western audience. Another famous Asian movie person was the Japanese guy Takashi in "Revenge of the Nerds." Again, his obvious foreign accent and cluelessness about Americans is played for laughs.

Funny I never felt funny about laughing at those characters, along with the audience, at that time. I never realized how racist movie parts can be hurtful. It was not until I watched "Dragon: The Bruce Lee Story" that I first saw how racist Hollywood could be. Bruce was sitting in the theater with his white girlfriend watching "Breakfast at Tiffany" when one of the most racist movie roles ever put on screen appeared, Mickey Rooney's Mr. Yunioshi. With his pulled back eyelids, buck teeth, and thick accent, this was the equivalent of wearing blackface in its horrible depiction of another race. While the white movegoers laughed, Bruce Lee sat cold silent. His girlfriend was laughing too until she looked over at him and realized how terrible this Mr. Yunioshi made somebody feel about themselves. That's the first time I can remember understanding racism in popular media.

Now with Asian American blogs documenting racism all over the place, I feel like I'm always on the lookout for racism. Is it better that we are now more sensitive about hurting the sensibilities of other races? Yes. Does it make my life better knowing that racism is all around us and otherwise intelligent people still make racist acts, whether intentional or not? No. I just get inflamed over something that sometimes maybe I should just forget instead of allowing it to mentally fester in my head for hours or days afterwards. Can't somebody write happy Asian blogs?

Yellow Peril In Olympic Uniforms

I'm not sure what to make of the current controversy over the U.S. Olympic uniforms. When it was discovered that the uniforms were made in China, even though they were designed by American Ralph Lauren, the political class went into a frenzy. Trying to emphasize their patriotic credentials during an election year, some members have Congress have even called for burning the uniforms instead of allowing our players to wear them in London.

While I too wished that the uniforms were manufactured in America, I can't help feeling there is more than a bit of xenophobia and racism in this debate. This is an increasingly global economy. We wear clothes made in Vietnam and drive cars from Mexico. Our wine comes from Italy and our fruit ships from Argentina. Would the politicians be in such a furious state if the uniforms were designed by Armani and made in Italy? I don't think so. But as Americans increasingly see themselves as being on the decline and China on the ascendency, these racist attitudes are bound to become more common.

The Olympics is supposed to be a world stage where the entire planet comes to compete in a peaceful and friendly atmosphere. Let's not mar the occasion with these racist feelings.

Eastern Vs. Western Ideas Of Sexy

My wife loves her soap operas. No, not the kind you see in the afternoons on network TV. She loves her Asian soap operas, particularly the ones made in South Korea. She raves about their story lines, the wonderful acting, and particularly their beautiful actors. She'll frequently ask me to come over and ask for my opinion about an actor on the show. Did I agree with her that he's the best looking guy ever? Almost always, my answer is no.

For you see, her idea of beauty frequently is different from mine. Having grown up here in the U.S., I guess my interpretation of a sexy man runs more toward Western standards. We've all been brainwashed by American media to idolize men who are tall, beefy, and hairy chested. I think that's why I had such an inferiority complex in high school. My brother and I once discussed what we thought the optimal height should be for a man. He thought a man should stand 6' 2".  I considered 6' 3" to be the perfect height, since, you know, 6' 4" would be too tall. Needless to say, neither of us ever came close to that. Neither did we ever achieve a thatch of chest hair, or even a wisp.

I still had my preconceptions about masculinity even after marrying my beautiful wife. I asked her once if she wouldn't prefer to sleep with somebody who has lots of body hair. Her surprising answer to me was, "Ew". She couldn't understand the attractiveness of a hirsute body. She said it would be like sleeping with an animal. Her definition of a sexy man is somebody who is boyish and androgynous, lithe, with cute hair. In other words, somebody who would be thought of as gay among Western men. That is precisely what I told her, that all her idealized men look homosexual. She thought I was ridiculous.

It really is amazing how the media sears into our brains what the definition of beauty is. My wife, who grew up in China, only knew of the Chinese men she saw on Chinese TV. The infrequent times she saw a Hollywood movie only reinforced the differences, though not because Hollywood actors were more beautiful. Instead she only noticed their hairy bodies, their big noses, and their sweaty skin. Instead she adored the boyish charms of the Asian boy bands and flirtations of her favorite TV stars. By contrast I grew up with what is perceived to be Western beauty, as conceived by white screenwriters, white directors, and white actors. So I was conditioned to accept that as the consummate male sexuality.

Now as my daughter starts getting older and becoming more aware of others' physicality, I'm torn about how I should approach this. Should I inundate her with Asian videos and have her play with mostly Asian friends so that she will recognize her own Eastern beauty? Or should I let her assimilate with her Western friends and hope for the best that she doesn't look down on Asian boys? It is so hard to grow up in the U.S. as a minority.

My Wife Hates Steve Jobs

My wife hates Steve Jobs. It's true. She hates him with a passion. She thinks the creator of the iconic Macintosh and iPad computers is evil reincarnate. Why, you ask? The reason she harbors such hatred toward the man is because he undermines everything she tries to accomplish as a tiger mom.

You see, our kids are obsessed with my iPhone. They ask to play with it every chance they can. I would love for them to have as much fun with it as I do but when she is around, it stays safely in my pocket. Her idea of free time is to play puzzle games or practice the piano. Playing table tennis is as much recreation as they are allowed. And that is because we are paying for very expensive weekly ping pong lessons and she still has dreams of them making the U.S. Olympics team in 2020.

Apple products is the antithesis of this lifestyle. The computers are made specifically to be so easy to operate that even children can play with them with minimal instructions. But of course every minute they are playing "Temple Run" or "Sonic" is a minute taken from piano practice or Kumon. And that is not allowed to happen, ever. If she could flush my iPhone down the toilet she would. I think that is one reason why she still clings so loyally to her Blackberry. It is nearly impossible to play games or watch videos on her phone. Yet it's easy for her to text her friends. So that makes it her perfect phone.

But Steve (RIP) and his family shouldn't take it personally. She hates the person who invented the internet even more. So I guess Al Gore will never make it onto her friends list.

Mercedes Benz, Declasse. Mass Class Has Reduced My Ardor For The Three Pointed Star

I used to love Mercedes Benz cars. I've never owned one but have always aspired to. I remember as a kid looking through my older brother's Car and Driver magazines where they tested seminal Mercedes classics like the 6.9 or the 560SEL, like the one J.R. Ewing used to drive. I thought someday, I'll be cruising around in one of those babies instead of chugging along, blocking the slow lane, like my dad's VW Bus.

Now that I have successfully finished decades of education and training, I can finally say, yes, it is now my time. I can realistically consider getting one of those three pointed starred cars in my very own garage. I have finally made it. But have I? I look around Southern California, and that is all I see--Mercedes hood ornaments and trunk emblems on every block I drive.

M-B has decided that it wanted to rake in more money by going mass class. While owning a Mercedes used to imprint on the owner an image of wealth and exclusivity, it is now priced so low that almost anyone can have one. Driving through the San Gabriel Valley, and in fact most of Southern California, a Mercedes is as common as a boba milk tea. It's on every block, in every parking lot, parked on almost every driveway on every god-forsaken side street. It just doesn't exude affluence anymore.

It's the same feeling my wife has with Louis Vuitton bags. In its attempt to generate more revenue, LV has also become declasse. Virtually anyone can, and do, have one. I've seen many teenagers carry one, as well as nursing assistants, 7-11 clerks, and just about anybody who thinks it makes them look elegant and chic. Unfotunately this ubiquity has really turned off my wife. She now carries Coach bags. If you're going to carry a mass class bag, why not get one for hundreds less than the wannabes who buy LV?

As a matter of fact, if one truly wants to stand out here in SoCal, the best way to gain attention is to drive an American car. Owning one imparts on the owner that he is an individual, not one of the lemmings. Driving an Oldsmobile Cutlass or a Chevy Malibu here is more fashionable than the BMW 3-Series. While shopping for cars, I've seriously looked at exotic cars (for SoCal) like the Ford Taurus or the Buick LaCrosse. Why spend thousands of dollars for an expensive European brand when you will see another one driving past you every day while you're still paying off your sixty month car loan?

Maybe my dad was pretty smart after all. The VW Bus is probably the most coveted, hippy chic, car that one can own today. I should have bought it from him when I had the chance. Now they have something that Mercedes Benz can't touch, a pop culture image that no billion dollar advertising campaign can duplicate. That is the definition of exclusive.

Learning English With A Five Year Old. Life Imitates Art

Reading bedtimes stories is one of my favorite activities as a Dad. It's amazing to watch him learn new words at such a rapid pace. Seems like just yesterday he was still trying to remember his ABC's. Now he can read many of the Dr. Seuss books that he received from his older sister.

While he has mastered many monosyllabic words, he is facing some frustrations with the intricacies of English language. As anybody who has tried to learn English knows, our language is not the easiest one to comprehend, with all sorts of rules of pronunciation that defy all manners of logic. Like the classic "I Love Lucy" clip above, these illogical practices can drive one to tears.

For instance, while reading one of his books tonight, he came across several words that look like they should be pronounced the same, but are in fact, quite different. The words were "here", "there", and "where." All end in "ere" yet each one is supposed to be said in a distinct way. It got to the point where he hesistated before speaking such seemingly innocent looking words. I won't even go into how the word "ere" itself is supposed to be spoken lest it causes the reader to descend to madness.

Another one where he got stumped was "know" and "now." With one change in letter, the two words are suddenly pronounced entiredly unalike. How is this possible? How can one language not have consistent rules for its words? It's probably due to the melting pot nature of American society that we have so many ways of speaking similar words. Every new immigrant brought with him his native language which eventually got incorporated into our language. Unfortunately this also included the pronunciations of the native language as well. So now we have a polyglot of ways to say similar words.

My son can sympathize with Ricky Ricardo's angst. Ricky notes that Spanish is very easy to learn, with the same rules applying to all words. Unfortunately for American English learners, we don't have the luxury of such a pure uncontaminated language. Ours has been stirred through the melting pot of our wider culture. It is now a test of endurance and brain power to correctly decipher our English. This is a great way to make sure only smart people can migrate to the U.S. and become productive citizens.

Sugar And Spice And Everything Nice, Unless You're Chinese

Chinese Style Cake

Today is my son's birthday. Naturally there will be a party, red envelopes, and a big ole birthday cake. Good times is expected by all. Except the planning and preparation can get a little dicey. You see, my wife is very old school. She prefers the Chinese style cakes that are sold in the local Chinese bakeries. I, on the other hand, much prefer Western style birthday cakes with thick gooey layers of buttercream frosting and cake so moist they cling to your lips and cheeks when you bite into them.

I definitely don't understand the appeal of Chinese cakes. To me they are really unappetizing. The cakes are extremely dry and tasteless. The frosting is just as plain. They taste like whipped cream that somebody forgot to add the sugar. The only flavor in a typical Chinese style cake is derived from the fruit that typically serves as a topping. For my wife, even that is too sweet and she typically scrapes off the frosting and only eat the fruit and the cake. For me and the children, the frosting is just about the only thing we'll eat. We usually leave the cake behind.

She on the other hand find Western birthday cakes sweet to the point of gag-inducing. She can't understand how anybody can eat that much sugar in a single bite. Having been in the U.S. much longer than her, and having come over when I was much younger, when my taste preferences were still developing, I got used to Western cakes, the kinds you find in supermarkets and Costco. My kids are the same way. They would rather have Western style desserts like cakes, cookies, and ice cream than typical Chinese desserts like red bean soup and hot tapioca soup.

For awhile, these arguments over what type of cake to buy for a birthday party got quite heated. I usually let her get what she wants because it was usually she who was in charge of the party. But after awhile, should could see that most of the cake was wasted. The children usually took one bite of the cake and discarded the rest. So that got her realizing that it was just a waste of money to buy Chinese cakes for American children, no matter how much she adored them. Now she will buy a cake from Costco, but only the smallest one she can find. Because it is still horrible for children to eat that much sugar.