"If I had more time, I would have written a shorter letter." -- M.Twain

ONE NIGHT DAD

Back when Sun Su was still a somewhat immobile baby, I spent a day hanging out with this little kid from church.

“They call him 7-Eleven,” my Corean-Brazilian cousin told me at Corean church one morning, “Because his mouth is open 24 hours a day.”

7-Eleven, or Alvin as I’ll call him, was small for his age; somewhere around eleven or twelve. With his hyperactive chatter, diminutive presence, and hi-pitched giggle, he reminded me of the chipmunk of the same name.

I knew enough about Alvin to know he lacked good “male role models” in his life. His mom, my teacher, made it pretty clear in our class that not only was she bitterly divorced, but that his father had abandoned her and the family for a younger piece of ass. “Men lie. Men cheat. All men are bad. Ah, yes, now please open book to lesson five.” She was a funny teacher, I’ve missed her.

MEN LIE

One day my cousin took Alvin to the mall and I went along with them.

Little Alvin wanted to buy his mom a necklace for her birthday, but with the twenty dollars she gave him, he couldn't afford even the cheap ones. I suggested a slightly more expensive but prettier necklace.

“I’ll take care of it. It will be like a teacher’s gift from me and a birthday present from you at the same time. Just don’t tell your mom that I helped you buy it. It’s a surprise from you, okay?”

“Are you sure? Okay. I can buy some candy for myself now. This is great.”

MEN CHEAT

Afterwards we went to the video game arcade, on my suggestion of course. Alvin’s eyes lit up when he saw what twenty dollars in quarters looked like. Instant jackpot. Or as I called it in college, a Friday night date.

My own dad used to take my brother and me to the game arcades and give us a five dollar bill. When you have that many quarters, it seems like they’ll never run out. We’d play all afternoon and when the quarters were all gone, dad would show up to take us home.

Eventually we learned that quarters aren’t the only things that don’t last forever.

“Whoa! Is that all for you?” Alvin goggled at my coin stash.

“I can give you a few. Ask the guy over there for a bag. Your pockets aren’t big enough.”

We hit the shooting games. I showed Alvin how to cover the light sensor in the front of the gun with his finger so he wouldn’t have to waste time or energy “reloading.”

Then we played Star Wars Trilogy.

“Use both hands on both fire buttons, Alvin. It’s the only way to get the rapid fire bonus. It also helps keep your aim steady.”

I showed him how to safe crack the candy machines with the metal dials.

“On these old machines, if you turn the dial really slowly … and stop just before … the click … you get a handful of extra candy.”

Then it was sniper action with Silent Scope EX.

I showed him where all the hot bonus nurses were and gave pointers like shooting to the left of enemies when parachuting in to compensate for wind and velocity.

I couldn’t tell him anything about skeeball though. Except to “not throw the ball while I’m dropping one in the middle ring.”

“Hey, I’m good at this game. I can beat anyone,” Alvin said as I started playing Soul Calibur 2.

“Oh, yeah? Bring it.”

He really couldn’t play very well at all, but by the time I figured that out, I was already deep into my relentless nunchaku combo of death routine.

“Look, block like this. Then counter attack right after,” I explained,

“You gotta be careful. Sometimes people will attack high, high, high, then drop you with a low attack.”

So I let Alvin win a few, but it wasn’t long before some arcade troll interrupted us and challenged me, reminding me that I play against ghosts more than real people these days.

“You almost had him. Wow, I can’t believe he beat you.” Alvin squealed.

“Some people play too much.”

It’s better to leave with a few quarters anyways. That way you can feel like the fun isn't truly over.

Baby Ooseung this weekend with phone cam

(Ooseung defends: "My daddy's not bad. He just draws people that way.")

ALL MEN ARE BAD

Our last stop was the movie theater. We saw Windtalkers by John Woo (this was a while ago). It wasn’t John Woo’s usual slick gun-fu acrobatic action. It was gritty, morally muddled and people ran out of bullets a lot.

Outside the theater, a poster for a 007 movie, The World Never Dies Another Day (or whatever generic title du jour), was posted.

“Being a secret agent would be cool. I want a License to Kill like 007. I want to see that movie,” Alvin said.

“You know who the ‘bad guys’ are in that one? Coreans,” I told him.

“What? What do you mean? We’re the bad guys?”

“Well, just the North Coreans.”

“Ooh, I hate North Coreans,” Alvin growled.

“Not all of them are bad. It’s the government that’s bad. The people are just on the wrong side of the border. They need help too. There are good people and bad people in every country, just like here. There's a lot to be proud of in your Corean heritage,” I anti-propagandized.

Driving home.

“That movie was cool. My father was in the army. He was a war hero. He was the best. Heroes never get shot. Not if you’re the best,” Alvin started exclaiming with pride.

“That’s good. But even the best soldiers die sometimes. War is ugly. People die and people get tortured. It’s not fun like a video game or a movie, okay?”

“Yeah, okay.”

It was the first time he’d ever mentioned his father before, so I asked,

“Do you get to see your father much?”

“…"

“Alvin?”

“… No. He moved,” and for once he stopped talking.

Heroes never get shot. It’s just everyone else that gets wounded and left behind.

“Are you coming over for dinner with us?” Alvin asked.

“No, I can’t. I’ll drop you off with my cousin,” I answered,

“Just don’t forget to give your mom her present. And don’t tell her I helped you get it. Say you saved up all your money just for her.”

Before my cousin and Alvin get out of the car, Alvin said happily,

“I had so much fun today. So much. I can’t believe it. I wish you could be my dad everyday.”

His comment made me happy but sad for him. I wished I could fix the fragile ego behind his incessant chatter. But there just aren’t enough quarters in the world to fill the empty pockets he's carrying around. I know.

There are so many fathers out there. Good ones and bad ones. Biological and adoptive. Legal custody and illegitimate fathers. Physically, verbally, and/or sexually abusive fathers. Neglectful fathers. Drunk fathers, absent fathers and dead ones.

Any one can be a father. There just aren’t enough dads out there.

Two weeks later, Alvin’s sister thanked me. Alvin kept his promise; he never told his mom. Instead, his sister tortured it out of him.

A couple months later, Alvin and his family stopped showing up at church. Another month later, we heard they moved so their mom could find a better job. Alvin’s sister got engaged to a rich older man.

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RANDOM PICTURES FROM THIS WEEKEND

You can see a picture of Sun Su and my niece in the left corner.

This was a ten minute throw-away drawing I did of one of my nieces (the one in the picture below with baby Ooseung) while at their house awhile ago. Apparently their parents found it and posted it on their fridge. It was not my idea to color her lips red. The niece colored that in by herself unfortunately.

Ooseung is in the background. Sun Su is looking a little bit grunge.

Ooseung is in the background. Sun Su is looking a little bit grunge.

(L to R) :A picture of one of the twins (Anyoung Eun Jeong!!), next to my niece with baby Ooseung, and Sun Su and Amy.

Oh? Was that my racket that just smashed into the table?

Oh? Was that my racket that just smashed into the table?

I love the reactions in this picture. This was taken a split second after Sun Su slammed the (blurry) tennis racket on the table to uh, test its durability I guess. That's KEVIN in the very back, apparently enjoying the anarchic mayhem more than anyone else.

The twins, our niece and sweet Sun Su and Sun Su's umma.

The twins, our niece and sweet Sun Su and Sun Su's umma.

(L to R): One of my nieces, both twins (one of which has a website with a pic of Kevin and Sun Su near the bottom of the page -- ANNYOUNG HYUN JEONG!!), Sun Su and my Amy.

Don't let Sun Su's look of bewildered innocence fool you. Especially when he's got something big in his hand.

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PLAYING SOLITAIRE

(NOT JUST ANOTHER EUPHEMISM FOR JACKING OFF ANYMORE)

I've recently learned how to play old-fashioned solitaire. Being kind of a game snob, I was surprised I took to it so zealousy. I've been playing it almost every night lately. It's like the game has this almost hypnotic effect. Anyways, if you know how to play maybe you should check out THIS LINK. If you don't, then maybe you'll want to learn (like I did).

Oh, by the way - NOT SAFE FOR WORK, unless you plan on leaving work as soon as possible so you can start your new job anyways.

I like playing with the bottom deck. If you know what I mean.