Uncle Update

My uncle was discharged today. I had a chance to visit him briefly. He looked good - weak, slightly pale, but still talkative and upbeat. Thanks to all of you who've wished him well - it means a lot.

Thoughts To My Uncle

I just learned tonight that my uncle who recently immigrated from China is in the hospital after coughing up blood. This is unsettling news - in fourth grade, I had a friend pass away after coughing up blood after an asthma attack. I hope today's situation is not nearly as severe.

Suffering from potentially severe gastrointestinal ailments, my uncle is facing an extremely arduous road ahead. Strangers in a strange land, he and his wife are fortunate enough to have landed jobs soon after coming to the States, despite having only the faintest grasp of English. He fell ill the first day on the job. Perhaps most worrisome next to the ailment itself is the specter of medical costs. With insurance kicking in only after three months on the job, it seems entirely possible that he is not covered whatsoever.

• Fact 1: Hospitals in the US charge exorbitant rates.
• Fact 2: He is staying in the hospital at least for several days, not to mention future treatment.
  
• Fact 3: No amount of savings they have from China can fight back the flurry of fees mounting at their door.

While first and foremost concerned about my uncle's immediate health, I am also worried about the financial predicament they are in. I am confident he and my expanded family will rally together to find a way to handle this. - but is this a one-time incident or just the tip of the iceberg?

What happens when you can't afford to get better? Do you just go on your way and pray to never cough again? Do you go to bed with fervent prayers, hoping to see the light of the next morning? Many of us are fortunate - we have good jobs, coddled lifestyles, and are in good health. But those who worry about rent and basic expenses, those who don't have insurance paid for by work ... they walk a very delicate tightrope with nary a net to cushion a fall.

For my uncle, who arrived here only a month ago, the Land of Dreams has become the Black Hole of Uncertainty. At the onset of the Chinese New Year, may health and financial security find their way back to him again.

Oops I Did It Again

I got called a negative bastard today. Or at least, it sort of felt like it. The details are less significant as the message itself. When presented with different ways to interpret a situation, I call out the less sunny side of the tracks. Perhaps it's just a matter of perspective. I like to kick the tires once in a while just to doublecheck. I like to poke and prod to make sure things are solid. And when they aren't, that gets pointed out too. I'm not judging but observing. I'm just a friendly inspector.

But maybe through the eyes of others, my questions and insights are taken at face value, as point blank criticisms drawing my position in the sand. Perhaps I am the new Chinese Mom, quick to point out the innumerable errors of one's ways. Tsk this. Tsk that. Shoulda coulda woulda. Aiya. Goodbye family honor

I'm a fact checker, plain and simple. I like to kick the wheels, doublecheck, and vet out everything and anything under the sun. Maybe it's the engineer in me. Rule #1: Test out critical assumptions. When I ask Why/How/When/Who/Where ... it's not to disprove something but simply to make sure we're on the same page. When confronted by the affronted, I try to calmly explain that if something were defensible, then all lines of questioning should be welcome.

People have suggested that I pursue a JD rather than an MBA. My fierce pursuit of truth (or, apparently, my version of it, at least) coupled with my ability to turn casual conversation into a cross-examination seem to indicate some traces of litigious blood in my veins.

Perhaps it is due to the famed "Frank*" Effect. {not really Frank, but you get the pic} Frank and a friend started a company. Every time I would see Frank, I'd eagerly inquire about the progress of his firm. Particularly interested in evaluating the guts of the operation, I would ask very specific questions about different facets of his endeavor. Much later on, the word on the street was that I had a beef with Frank.

I was floored. Apparently, my casual kicking of the tires seemed more like fierce verbal assault and battery. To the Franks of the world. my polite chit-chat was more suited for Jack Nicholson in A Few Good Men. Ooops.

Here's the rub. I am analytical, not critical. I let the evidence speak for itself - whether the conclusion be favorable or not. When I inquire, I am simply gathering information. I'm not asking for Good, I'm not asking for Evil. I'm just trying to understand.

But the Franks of the world may not understand this - or even care. Perhaps they would much rather me focus on the beautiful weather, remark upon a few pleasantries, and go upon my merry way. Who cares if I don't fully understand something? No one's asking for my advice or opinion anyway.

It's just weird. Should I just clam up and only share the good stuff? The warm fuzzies but not the open questions? And, what about those thoughts that are actually critical? Are they better off locked in the vault in order to preserve my good name? For the sake of proper understanding and good conversation, I sure hope not.

But then again, maybe it's just because I'm a negative bastard.

Punky Rooster's New Year Salutations

Happy Chinese New Year's everyone! May you all win the lotto as I plan to do.

{Enjoy the latest tidbit. Thx WongTon!}

Asian Guy (changing yen for dollars): "Yestoday I get two hunat dollar fo yen - today I get a hunat eighty. Why it change?"

Teller: "Fluctuations."

Asian Guy: "Oh yeah? Well, fluc you white guys too!"

Q: What's wrong with the world?

A: People like this. {thx nabster for the edification}

For INSANE MAN NEWS, Click here.

Oh Boy Alberto

Some of you have inquired about the oblique references I have made to Alberto. {okok, I know I mentioned him by a different name. But I realized during my ride home that it's quite possible for him to search for his name on the web and find this blog. So, clever me has decided to employ the ol' pseudonym approach. So it's Alberto now peeps. *note: You may use air quotes in exaggerated fashion when discussing this with me in person. I will humor you.}

Gather 'round, for here is the tale of Alberto.

Several months ago, I visited our Dallas office for work. It was late and all was quiet, save for the rapid staccato of my furious (read: desperately late) typing and the low hum of the clean up crew's vacuum. A slight, boyish looking janitor stepped into the conference room and started to clean up.

"Hola."

Startled, I looked up from my work.

"Um, hello."

"Se habla espanol?"

The nerd in me couldn't resist passing up this opportunity to prove I had retained some high school Spanish.

"Si. Un poquito."

"Ahhhh... bueno bueno!"

Sweeet! He was understanding what I was saying. My Spanish was being understood by a native speaker! Look, he even seemed to delight in my Spanish skills. I rock!

"Tienes un telefono?"

Hmm. He wants to know if I have a phone? HA! That's an easy question. I was so going to ace this conversation.

"Si, tengo un telefono!" This Chinese nerd liked the questions on this pop quiz. They were so easy! Come on, toss me another.

"Que es tu numero?"

Hmm. All of a sudden, this pop quiz took a turn in the wrong direction. Why the heck would my company's cleaning crew want my phone number? I wasn't even leaving a mess or tracking mud onto the carpet! Odd. So odd.

As I gave it to him, time seemed to pass in slow motion. If this were a movie, someone would yell out, in exagerrated form, Noooooooooooooooooo!

And, like in such movies, it would be too late.

He scribbled it down. (Strange...strange... does not compute.)

"Cuando salieras?" He wanted to know when I was leaving.

"Jueves". For some reason, Thursday suddenly couldn't come too soon.

"Ay!" (Ah! Anguish, a good sign perhaps!) "Si estuvieras aqui en viernes o sabado, podemos bailando!" As I pieced together the final pieces of this Spanish mystery, it dawned on me. Alberto wanted me to go dancing with him on Friday or Saturday.

To emphasize the potential fun of this event, he suddenly did a twirl in the middle of the conference room, hands pointing to the sky.

"Bailando! Ooooo Oooo! *" Twirl. Twirl. Point to the sky. Spin. {* the Ooo Ooo sound is that sound that groups of girls at clubs usually make. Typically to hip hop songs. It's strange, yes. Coming from a slight, boyish janitor in the middle of a conference room is even stranger.}

In psychology, they teach you about the moment when, in an emergency situation, one either takes flight or fights. Not one for confrontation, I powered down and exited stage left. Pronto.

I smiled apologetically and said I had to go. "Lo-siento-Necesito-ir-Hasta-luego-Alberto!" I called as I headed out of the room.

"Hasta manana!" Dayam me and my polite niceties!

Well, no worries. I thought smugly to myself. It's not like he's gonna call me!

Mondaze

Happy Monday everyone. Check these out to make it still feel like Sunday. (Thx DeeReal for the tips)

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Wardrobe Malfunction explained!
http://www.big-boys.com/articles/bannedsuperbowl.html

The full Go Daddy, uncensored clip! (select the full version and enter in the view id)
http://www.godaddy.com/gdshop/superbowl05/landing.asp?isc=bpshdr001&se=%2B

Super Bowl 39

Hmm. How come when real numbers are used, the Super Bowl sounds like an offshoot of Ranch 99?

Anyway. In this new era of appreciation for family, I decided to be the good Chinese son and watch the Super Bowl at home in Danville. I figured, with my impending departure to Evanston, it would be good to catch the game with my little bro and my dad.

The play-by-play:
1:15 pm: Dodger calls Yangstar, leaves vm saying that he won't be able to make the rowdy beer n chips fest in the city. He's gonna go home. It feels good to do the right thing.
1:23 pm: Dodger pulls up into driveway.
1:25 pm: "Where's Dad?" he asks. Mom informs him that Dad is out helping a relative move.
1:30 pm: "Has the game started?" he inquires to his bro. No, but he's leaving soon to his friend's house to watch, Dodger learns.
1:40 pm: Dodger heads out and walks the dog.
World - 1. Dodger - 0.
Happy SB everyone.

Well, y'know what. Watching it by myself can be fun (I tell myself, since there is no one present to perform this duty). Yeah! Let's get psyched! I turn on the TV and regale in being a curmudgeonly critic.

SB39 Highlights:

• The pre-game show emphasizes the military service provided by America's armed forces. They even thank George Sr. on his participation during WWII. Conspicuously absent is comment about Junior. Unscripted TV rocks!
• A little kid performs the coin toss. Apparently, they didn't train him .. the coin flies flat and lands with Tails up. I smile. The Patriots, who called Tails, no doubt think... stupid kid!
• Returning from commercial, there's a shot of a dolphin popping up from a pool with a football in its mouth. It just sits in front of the camera, with the giant ball jammed in its mouth. The shot hangs long enough until everyone - even the non-PETA types -- start feeling a mite uncomfortable. The game comes back on and the announcer wonders aloud, "Is that real?" ... no one answers him. I smile again.
• Bill Belicek runs to the Eagles side of the field after commercial break. Wow. Embarrassing.
• GoDaddy.com commercial best I've seen so far. Who's got tix to the next congressional hearing?

RIIING! my cell rings and I desperately (err, I mean, casually ... actually, offhandedly!, grab it. it's a 214 area code. hmm, weird. hmm human contact or watching the game by myself? I'd ask the coin toss kid to help me, but I know he'd encourage me to go for the gold.

I answer it.

"Rogelio? Como estas? Recuerdeme?"

Ay caramba. It's Alberto (name changed to protect the innocent --namely, myself) my Texan stalker. All of a sudden , watching the game by myself didn't seem so bad after all.