Drama queen

Posted on 27/January/2015 by John McCrarey

Regular readers know how much I despise dart league drama. Which makes it especially distressing to report what a little bitch I was last night.

I finished work and arrived back at Yongsan as per usual at 1600. Grabbed me some dinner at Popeye’s on base then hoofed it into Itaewon. Had a couple of beers at Shenanigans while I awaited the the 6:00 p.m. opening of Dolce Vita. Got in some practice at DV and then made my way over to Dillinger’s where my team (Dartitis Quarantine) was playing the opening match of the season against Gecko’s.

I arrived at 7:10, and the match was scheduled to begin at 7:30. Other than a couple of greetings no one said anything to me. Our regular team Captain was out sick. And then the match started, so I looked at the score sheet and saw I had not been scheduled for the first round of singles. We had five players, and only four can play so someone has to sit. And that was me. I mentioned to another player that I was surprised to not be playing and he said “you were the last one to arrive”. And for whatever reason that set me off, especially since I’d spent the last hour warming up at DV. I’m not the best thrower on the team, but I’m also not the worst. So, it didn’t seem that we were putting our strongest lineup up against a tough opponent.

As I set there stewing on it, I just decided to say “fuck it” and leave. The team didn’t really need me and I was feeling unappreciated. So I walked out on the team. I sent a message to the absent Captain saying I knew it was a dick move, but it didn’t seem like I was a good fit for the team.

He didn’t respond until this morning, and it was a terse “do what you gotta do. A little more notice would have been nice so we could fill the team”. I replied that I wouldn’t have left if the team was short a player, but with four other guys I was not needed. He answered that my saying I was not a good fit for the team implied that I had quit for the season and that is what he had told the team. Which I take to mean I’ve been fired.

Anyway, I was way out of line. Upon *ahem* sober reflection this morning I recognize that my behavior was totally unacceptable. I sent a message to my teammates apologizing and a couple have been gracious in their acceptance of said apology. And that’s where things stand. I’ve not decided on next steps, although if I want to play I’m sure I can find a team that would be happy to have me. Even if I’ve become the stereotypical grumpy old man.

After my premature departure from Dillinger’s I returned to DV and worked on drowning my sorrows with frosty mugs of Cass beer. An acquaintance named Brad came in and joined me at the bar and we spent a delightful couple of hours chatting about politics and the minds and hearts of Korean women. Honestly speaking, I enjoyed that much better than I would have playing darts in my foul mood.

I got on the subway for the ride home and realized I didn’t have my darts. Texted the owner of Dillinger’s who found them where I’d left them upstairs, so they are in safe keeping for now. Although he did threaten to sell them to buy me some diapers. Which of course is the kind of abuse I have so rightfully earned.

And so it goes.

Upward over the mountain

Posted on 18/January/2015 by John McCrarey

(In celebration of ten years of blogging here at LTG, each week for the next 52 51 50 49 48 weeks I will delve deep into the ~~sewer~~ archives of past posts to bring you a tidbit of blog history. I had originally planned to call this series “The best of LTG”, but damn, there just wasn’t much “best” to be found. And mediocre is too hard to spell.)

Four years ago I wrote about my mother’s death in a post called All you need is love.

She did not “go gentle into that goodnight”. She loved life and fought to hold onto it as long as she could. It was a painful and heartbreaking thing to witness her struggle, but I’m thankful I could be there with her to provide what little comfort I could give.

I miss her of course, but I don’t know that I still actively grieve her passing. But I cried yesterday as I re-read the posts about her death, her funeral, and the void she left in the lives of those who loved her.

Still, she lives on in the memory of her children and grandchildren. Her life was not an easy one, but in the end her thoughts were only about the power of love. She urged us to love and to be loved because that was all that really mattered.

I’m trying my best mom.

My mother and I in happier times.

Mother don’t worry, I killed the last snake that lived in the creek bed
Mother don’t worry, I’ve got some money I saved for the weekend
Mother remember being so stern with that girl who was with me
Mother remember the blink of an eye when I breathed through your body

So may the sunrise bring hope where it once was forgotten
Sons are like birds flying upwards over the mountain

A new perspective

Posted on 17/January/2015 by John McCrarey

Or should I say “movin’ on up!”

The view from the 19th floor…

On Thursday we moved into this brand spanking new apartment building…

Still in Gireum, in fact we are across the street from the old joint. We lived on the 5th floor of Building 105 shown in this photo I took from the new apartment. Not directly above the subway anymore, so I have an additional five minute walk added at the beginning of my commute…

I was pretty impressed with the efficiency of the movers. One million won bought 3 men and 1 woman for the day, including a truck and…

…this elevator like device.

So, the movers show up at 0800. The woman does the kitchen (naturally) while the men set about disassembling things that needed disassembled and packing up everything else that didn’t. They had the old place emptied out by noon.
Given our dizzying new heights, they used the elevators to bring our possessions into the apartment.
When I had my shit shipped back to the USA, they just left my house filled with boxes (although they did put the beds and stuff together). Not these Korean movers–everything was unpacked and if something was dirty (like the refrigerator) they cleaned it!
It was all completed by around 1830. They all worked their asses off and it made that one million seem like a pittance.

The new place has three bedrooms and two baths and is much more modern and high tech. I was trying to figure it all out and set off some alarm, so the maintenance guy had to come up and reset it. Jee Yeun admonished me to not touch the control panel again. Fine by me.

Yesterday was my half-day at work (I’m on a 20 hour per week contract, and do 8 hour shifts on Monday and Wednesday) so I got to test out my new commute. I had some things I wanted to take care of on base, so I headed out at 0900. You are welcome to join me for the ride if you want…

Every commute starts with slipping into your shoes, right?

Stepping into the scary elevator for the ride down. I say “scary” because they are all encased in plywood, with tape and graffiti. I guess they’ll stay that way until all the apartments have been occupied.

Down the driveway…

…across the boulevard and past the bus stops…

…Gireum station, line #4, entrance #3…

through the turnstiles…

…and onto the train. I actually had to stand for 3 stops, but seats usually open up at Dongdaemun…

By Seoul station the car was almost empty. Two more stops and I’m at…

…Samgakji! This puts me 25 minutes into my commute.

This guy is always in the station. Never heard him sing, but I assume he does golden oldies. *ahem*

As I leave exit #1 I see it has begun to rain. I have a ten minute walk yet, but I’m too lazy to dig the umbrella out of my backpack…

Through this gate and I’m on the hallowed grounds of US Army Garrison–Yongsan.

Plenty of time to take care of a little banking…

…and grab a quick bite to eat at the food court. Wasn’t feeling like BK or Popeye’s….

…and Subway or Chinese weren’t what I wanted either…

Ah, but some Taco Bell would hit the spot. Three crunchy taco supreme and a large diet Coke took the edge right off those hunger pangs…

So, I work for the Yongsan Army Education Center, which as you may have discerned is upstairs from the Post Office. But I don’t work there, I just drop by to pick up mail…

I’m still facing a one hour bus ride to get to work. Although I do get paid for riding the bus…

My destination is K-16. The ROKs use it as a military airport, the Army has a fleet of helicopters based there…

Crossing the Han…

Better to be riding than driving…

Finally arriving at my duty station. I’m downstairs in the computer lab. Where the work is not quite as intellectually stimulating as my morning commute…

Speaking of being stimulated, one of the purposes of going in early yesterday was to check in with the boss of the unit I use to run. I’m holding out some hope that he may choose to re-employ me. With my friend Dennis’ recent departure, there is a vacancy. Unfortunately, the boss was in a meeting. So, I had a nice visit with some of my old staff and they all expressed the hope I’d be brought on board. Well, Dennis’ job as the supervisor has been filled by an internal promotion, but that still leaves a vacancy. The person I would work for was hired after I left, so she doesn’t really know me (although I did join her and Dennis for dinner last summer). So, I dropped by her office to say hello.

I asked how things were going and she said it was pretty hectic since Dennis left. I casually mentioned that I’d be happy to help her out with that, but she really didn’t respond to that one way or the other. I visited with a couple of other folks and as I was leaving, she asked if she could talk with me for a few minutes. Of course I said of course.

She showed me a policy memo that had been written during my tenure and asked for my interpretation of one of the clauses. Well, I frankly didn’t remember much about the policy or why it was written, but I gave it a quick read and hemmed and hawed my way through my best guess of what it meant. I wasn’t really satisfied with my response and I’m not sure my insights answered her question. She thanked me and I left.

During my long bus ride I got to wondering if that had been an impromptu interview or test or whatever to ascertain if I still had what it takes to be a useful addition to her team. Now, I’ve been out of the game for four years but I don’t think I’ve got that much stupider. And when I was in the game, I didn’t tend to shoot from the hip and make any policy interpretations without much more careful consideration. So, maybe I should have told her that instead of trying to come up with a best guess on-the-spot. Or maybe she was just seeking an opinion and there was no other motive so I should stop stressing about it. I guess I’ll find out in due course.

And finally, after work I hoofed it into Itaewon, grabbed some dinner, drank some beers, and threw some darts. Won the tourney (W30,000) and hit the double out jackpot (W66,000), so there’s that.

The last dance

Posted on 01/January/2015 by John McCrarey

We danced to the song we always do as a duet at the norebang–“It’s the end of the world”….

On Christmas morning Jee Yeun told me she was unhappy in our marriage. I asked her if she was willing to work on making things better. She told me “no, not really”.

For the next few days things seemed fine and I was thinking maybe she had reconsidered. But on Tuesday she said “I’ll help you find an apartment in Itaewon if you want”. I asked her what her plans were and she said she wants to move to the “countryside”.* Apparently, she already has a house in mind there.

It’s all very surreal. She professes to still love me and I believe her. I think she knows how much I truly love her as well. She just wants a different life and in her pragmatic way she has chosen to pursue it without me.

She told me she wanted to be with me for New Year’s Eve last night. And so for the first time in several months she joined me in Itaewon at Dolce Vita Pub. We had spent many happy nights there during our courtship.

The picture in this picture was taking six years ago or so...

The picture in this picture was taken six years ago or so…

It was an enjoyable, but bittersweet, evening. I just can’t imagine what my life is going to be without her in it. And I have a good imagination.

* “countryside” means somewhere some three hours south near where her Aunt lives. Jee Yeun says she’s happy there.

It’s the inevitable let down at the end of a great adventure

Posted on 26/December/2014 by John McCrarey

(In celebration of ten years of blogging here at LTG, each week for the next 52 51 weeks I will delve deep into the ~~sewer~~ archives of past posts to bring you a tidbit of blog history. I had originally planned to call this series “The best of LTG”, but damn, there just wasn’t much “best” to be found. And mediocre is too hard to spell.)

On December 30, 2010 I took note of my final day at work in “That about sums it up”. I ended that post on this hopeful note:

But I’m going to make sure this is merely the transition time between adventures. Or go crazy. One of those.

Maybe I am crazy, but it occurs to me now that life is always just one big transition. I suppose that state of perpetual transition might on occasion include adventure. More often it just hurts.

Now at last I have come to see what life is,
Nothing is ever ended, everything only begun,
And the brave victories that seem so splendid
Are never really won.

Even love that I built my spirit’s house for,
Comes like a brooding and a baffled guest,
And music and men’s praise and even laughter
Are not so good as rest.”
― Sara Teasdale,

Consequences

Posted on 16/December/2014 by John McCrarey

In a world of hurt

So my friend Jeremy is behind bars. He’s being transferred today to a prison in Incheon where he will stay until his trial date, presumably in a month or so. He’s been charged with “violence resulting in death”, which I understand is the Korean equivalent of manslaughter.

Several weeks ago Jeremy was at the Old Town Tavern in Itaewon. He observed a young Korean man verbally and physically harassing a female friend of his. Jeremy intervened, and a shoving match ensued (some accounts say Jeremy punched the guy). The Korean man subsequently fell to the pavement, struck his head, went into a coma, and later died from his injuries. ~~He was 20 years old~~. I’m hearing in his 30’s now, see update below.

I’m not sure how you say “screwed” in Korean, but that most certainly describes what Jeremy is. The altercation has been reported in the Korean media in terms much less favorable than those I’ve described above. An attorney Jeremy has consulted advises that he is facing 7-10 years in prison, although that might be reduced to as little as two years, provided he makes some restitution to the deceased’s family. The victims medical bills alone are fifty million Won.

Like many expat teachers in Korea, Jeremy is basically broke. He was fired immediately after the incident hit the news. He will have difficulty funding a competent lawyer, I see no possibility of him being able to pay off the family. The Go Fund Me campaign started on his behalf had only generated several hundred dollars before it was pulled. Go Fund Me doesn’t allow people to donate to the legal fees for individuals accused of a violent crime. So, like I said, he’s pretty much screwed.

I’ve known Jeremy for several years and I’ve never seen him be violent or aggressive. But I knew he had been in fights before, mostly because he’s a stand-up guy who won’t back down. As another mutual friend put it, Jeremy is a smart man who does some really stupid shit. Now two lives have been destroyed and their ain’t a fucking thing anyone can do to change that. It’s a nightmare for all involved.

So I offer this sad story as a cautionary tale. Just walk away. It’s not worth it.

UPDATE: A friend of Jeremy’s has created a Facebook page in an effort to generate some financial support for legal expenses. I wanted to post the account of the events outlined there for clarification. I wasn’t there and neither was he, but this is probably as close to accurate as we are going to get.

A good friend of mine, Jeremy Frye, was recently arrested on charges that could put him in prison for a long time. Because I wasn’t there at the time of the incident I can only relay the story according to Jeremy and a couple of other friends who were at the scene. I will try to simplify it. Here goes:

On Nov. 30th, Jeremy was at a local bar with his friends in the early morning. A Korean man in his 30’s sexually assaulted one of Jeremy’s Korean female friends by grabbing her inappropriately. The Korean man was removed from the bar by the security later to come back inside. The Korean guy pursued to apologize but instead tried to become physical with one of Jeremy’s mates. The Korean guy then left the building only to harass another one of Jeremy’s female friends and physically trying to harm her. Jeremy stepped in and removed the Korean guy which resulted in a scuffle. When this happened, he was almost immediately pulled away by the bar owner and security guard and went back inside. Several minutes later the paramedics arrived on scene because the Korean guy fell unconscious. When the police came, the Korean guy’s friend pointed at Jeremy. They questioned him and then let him go home. Later in the day, the police arrived at Jeremy’s apartment and arrested him for more questioning. He was held overnight and released again. The police told him the Korean guy was in a coma. About a week later the Korean guy died in the hospital. Jeremy is now in prison and awaiting his trial, which could be in a month.

If you feel like giving Jeremy the proper legal assistance, you can transfer funds to a bank account I have set up for him. I will try my best to keep everyone updated on his situation on this page. It will be difficult to contact individually.

KEB
620-237511-243
Murphy

Ten years after

Posted on 12/December/2014 by John McCrarey

Still crazy after all these years…

One long ago winter’s day in Stafford, Virginia I sat down and crafted the first ever post here at Long Time Gone. Looking back from the perspective of half a score of years, I can’t help but cringe a little at the naivete and cluelessness of the person I was back then.

I’m moving to Seoul, Korea. Although the general consensus among family and friends is that I’ve lost my mind (which I don’t necessarily deny), this is something of a calling for me.

I went on and on about duty and honor and serving those who served, which was perhaps the truth on some level, but as is usually the case with me, my motivations were at their core driven by my own selfishness.

I have lived a very comfortable life. Too comfortable perhaps. The chance to live and work overseas in a totally alien culture seems to be an exciting opportunity to get out of my box and experience a new lifestyle.

Now, what I meant to say here is that I hate my fucking white bread suburban life, I’m bored and miserable, and if I don’t find a way to get out of here I’m going to go batshit crazy. Although I guess maybe you can read that between the lines.

I have made a two-year commitment to the Army, and if I am miserable and lost and lonely, well I will deal with it and learn what I can from the experience. Going in, I have a positive attitude and believe that I have the power to determine what I gain and how I grow as I live this new life.

Oh my, but I was full of myself back then, wasn’t I? That two years became six and carried me right up to retirement. I did in fact find myself more than occasionally “miserable, lost and lonely”, as often as not from the sometimes cruel hearts of Korean women. For example, a Korean woman I dated for almost two years broke up with me via email. While we were living together! Still, the good times outweighed the bad and in my ignorance I came to love Korea, even if I didn’t (and don’t) always understand her. It is pretty funny that I actually believed I had the “power” to determine what I gained from the experience. I still feel the pain of the things I lost by being here over the years. What have I gained? Well, I get to be the person I have become. And I like that better than the person I was.

So, this blog will serve as a diary of my life in Korea. It will be a place where I share my thoughts on what I am seeing, doing, and learning.

I guess I got that part right. Mostly.

I’m going to cut that guy from tens years ago a little slack though. He wasn’t happy with his life and so he changed it. There was a price to be paid for that, but I think it was worth it in the end. And ten years later finds that guy back in Korea still pursuing his happiness. Hope springs eternal.

“Though half a score of years are gone,
Spring comes as sharply now as then—
But if we had it all to do
It would be done the same again.

It was a spring that never came;
But we have lived enough to know
That what we never have, remains;
It is the things we have that go.”

–Sara Teasdale

What a long, strange trip it’s been

Posted on 11/December/2014 by John McCrarey

Back in our humble apartment in Gireum-dong. 33 hours door-to-door.

Began the day at 0400 in order to catch my 0700 flight out of Columbia. Arrived in Atlanta at 0800 with 4 hours to kill before my departure to Seoul via Korean Air. Had a sausage, cheese and egg biscuit from McDonalds, then parked myself in the smoking lounge where I enjoyed free airport WiFi, a rare treat in the USofA.

The appointed departure time came and went, and then came the announcement of some unspecified “mechanical problems” with our A-380 aircraft. They estimated the fix time to be three hours, and gave us all a ten dollar lunch voucher. So, I scored me some Arby’s and headed back to the smoking lounge to wait out the delay.

Three hours go by and the repair is still not complete. Then another hour. Then Korean Air rolled out a couple of carts filled with snacks, soft drinks, and water with the promise the problem would be resolved “soon”. We finally boarded at 6:30 and then sat at the gate for the better part of an hour. I set my watch for Seoul time and resolved to not worry about those things I can’t control.

About halfway into the flight, I hear a woman screaming in Korean. I figured maybe a fight had broken out. Shortly thereafter the flight attendant took to the P.A. to ask if there was a doctor on board. After a few more minutes she came back on to ask if there was anyone with medical skills available to help. I asked the flight attendant what was going on and she said, we have to get a sick passenger to the hospital. I said “A hospital, what is it?” She said “it’s a big building paitents, but that’s not important right now!”. Alright, of course that last part didn’t happen, but I couldn’t resist the “Airplane!” reference.

Anyway, they moved the ill person up front and things quieted down I watched three forgettable movies (2 American, 1 Korean) and in between actually managed to sleep a few hours. Which might explain why I’m still up right now.

We landed at Incheon at 0100 local time. As we deplaned, a Korean Air employee gave us each an envelope with seven W10,000 coupons good for future travel with the airline. An unexpected and nice touch. I sailed through immigration and customs, although one of my bags got destroyed somewhere between Columbia and Korea. It was the last bag to come down the carousel. I had packed that sucker jam full and had a hard time getting it zippered up. I knew if TSA or Korean customs attempted to open it they’d never get it closed again. It arrived back in my possession with a burst zipper and haphazardly held together with packing tape. All the contents seemed to be intact however, so I’m grateful for that.

I was happy to see a currency exchange kiosk still open, so I exchanged $200 for Won as I anticipated an expensive taxi ride from Incheon to Gireum. Instead, another Korean Air employee met me as I exited the airport and directed me to a bus that would take me to Seoul City Hall, paid for by the airline. That suited me just fine. I was the only passenger on said bus, and in broken English the driver asked where I was going. I told him Gireum station. He had a suggestion: He would take me to Gimpo Airport where his car was parked, and then he drive me to Gireum himself. I caught on that the guy was ready to get home, and this plan likely would have shaved a couple of hours off his night. I readily agreed, but alas, another passenger arrived and foiled our plan. Still, there was a cab waiting at the City Hall bus stop and he carried me to my destination for W12,000 including tip.

Jee Yeun greeted me at the door with a smile and a kiss and I knew at long last my journey was over. It’s good to be home.

Roomies

Posted on 30/November/2014 by John McCrarey

So a guy moved into my house last night. I haven’t had a roommate (excluding girlfriends) since my older brother and I shared an apartment back in the 1970s. I honestly don’t know much about the guy who moved in other than he’s a decent dart player and he came here from Alabama a few weeks ago. He’s been staying in a hotel since his arrival which as you might expect is a budget buster. So I offered up my guest room which he gladly accepted.

I have a Korean-style mattress in that bedroom and I warned him it was hard. I remember when I first moved into my Korean apartment it had a similar bed. Those first couple of weeks were uncomfortable but I got to where I prefer a hard mattress. When I went shopping for a bedroom set here in the states it took me awhile to find a mattress anywhere near as hard as to what I’d become accustomed. Finally after visiting several stores and describing what I wanted one place offered up a mattress they called the “back breaker”. Still softer than I’d prefer, but it works. Well, I asked my new roommate Brandon how he slept last night and he just grunted and said “it’s gonna take some getting used to”.

Anyway, I’ve gotten to where I prefer my solitude but hopefully this arrangement will only be for a couple of weeks. I plan to get out of Dodge as quickly as circumstances permit. When I leave Brandon is going to rent my house. He’s basically taking it “as is” which means I don’t have to deal with the hassle and expense of storing my furniture and other worldly possessions. That works for him as well because all he brought with him from Alabama was a couple of suitcases. The rent income will also help defray the expense of finding a place close to the Army base. My goal is to be close enough to walk to work.

Speaking of work, my potential employer advises that things are “looking good”. The hiring package is with USFK awaiting approval. He thinks I’ll have an answer Monday. The last thing I need to provide is my university transcript which should arrive early next week. I’ve got to pay my own way to Korea so I’m guessing I’ll be screwed on airfare with a short notice purchase. Maybe I’ve accumulated enough frequent flier miles to get a free or at least a discounted ticket. We’ll see.

If things go as I hope I’d like to arrive in Korea on or around December 12. A lot to get done between now and then, but I’ve got nothing but time on my hands I suppose. Now that I’ve completed this post I can re-cross my fingers.

What is and never was

Posted on 07/November/2014 by John McCrarey

Thirty-nine years ago this month I married my first wife. Six years and two children later that union ended in divorce. There is no animosity between us and we occasionally interact at family gatherings. Still, I was somewhat taken aback when I received a letter from the Catholic Diocese in Charleston in yesterday’s mail. That correspondence informs that the ex “has petitioned to this Tribunal declaring that her marriage to you should not be recognized by the Catholic Church…” In other words, she wants an annulment.

The letter includes a two-page questionnaire that I have been requested to complete. The questions are all pretty straightforward, basically seeking confirmation that I am not a Catholic and that we were not married in the Catholic church. The last question asks me to explain in my own words why the marriage failed. I’m tempted to channel Hillary Clinton and respond “at this point, what difference does it make?” but what’s the fun in that?

My ex was 17 when I knocked her up. I was 19. I’m not sure now why we didn’t go the abortion route. It was either her Catholicism or maybe she was too far along in the pregnancy when she realized she was with child. Anyway, we mutually decided to have the baby and give it up for adoption. So we moved in together and made the best of those few months, despite being dirt poor. The county adoption bureau paid for the medical care and the government provided food stamps, and we otherwise got by on my meager minimum wage salary.

On September 7, 1975 my daughter was born. On the day the adoption was to take place I was working thirty miles away in Pasadena, CA. And that morning something happened inside of me that I cannot explain, but I somehow knew letting go of my little girl was the wrong thing to do. So, I left work and barreled down the freeway arriving in the hospital room at the exact moment the adoption person was handing the ex the papers to sign giving away our child. I shouted “stop, wait, I want to talk to her about this”. And so I proposed that we get married and keep the baby. She agreed.

It was not a popular decision with her parents (the father threatened to have me arrested for statutory rape). We certainly were not prepared to raise a child (Renee’s first night at home she slept in a dresser drawer as we had no crib). But it was absolutely the right decision. I cannot fathom what my life would have been like if I had abandoned my sweet baby girl.

Two years later my son was born and shortly thereafter we moved to Prescott, AZ to raise our family in a more child friendly environment. I was working as a letter carrier for the Postal Service and the ex was a waitress at a one of Prescott’s finest dining establishments. We bought a small house. We had our struggles, but I recall those years as mostly happy.

So, what happened? I’m sure the ex might have a different perspective, but in looking back I see it as it all just being too much for a young mother to bear. The ex started running with the restaurant crowd and coming home after work at 3 or 4 in the morning. And I think at some point she decided that life in the fast lane was more fun than being stuck at home with the kids. And to be fair, I was feeling neglected and wound up having an affair. So we divorced and she gave me custody of the kids. I subsequently took a job in Arkansas and my mother helped me raise the children. And that’s pretty much where our story ended.

So, if the Catholic church wants to pretend the marriage never happened, I’m okay with that. History is what it is, and I have two fantastic kids (and three wonderful grandchildren) to show from our non-sanctioned union. That is something that can never be annulled.

Nada y nada

Posted on 04/October/2014 by John McCrarey

Not much posting going on here at LTG of late, but the fact of the matter is there just isn’t much happening in my life worthy of note. Of course, that’s never stopped me from writing about nothing before. Truth is, I’m in a bit of a funk. It goes beyond mere boredom. I was often bored in Korea as well, but at least I wasn’t so damn lonely. Yes, I miss my wife.

I’m one of those types who just doesn’t seem to fare well on his own. I tend to sink into an abyss of unmotivated laziness. Jee Yeun would shame me out of my worst behaviors, like sitting around in my underwear all day smoking cigarettes and watching Captain Kangaroo. Well, the television is better quality that the Statler Brothers enjoyed but you get my meaning. I’ve also been playing Civilization marathons which fills the hours but leaves me feeling unsatisfied and a little depressed. I’m just wasting time, however comfortably and well. And at my age, the last thing I should be doing is wasting whatever time I might have left. I reckon I ought to put a boot up my ass and break out of this cycle of despair. Just not sure where to start and I’m feeling trapped. Fuck it. I’ll think of something.

If it weren’t for darts I might not ever leave the house. I’ve taken road trips to play in Charlotte and Aiken, and tomorrow I’m going to head up to Greenville for the afternoon to shoot in a regional qualifier. I’ve been a little disappointed with the degradation of the dart scene here in Columbia. Some personality conflicts have created a situation where darts are no longer played at my favorite pub. I did my best to mend those fences but to no avail. So I’m breaking out on my own and starting a new tournament that I’m calling #TDT (throw darts Thursday). Not sure I can bring people back but I’ll give it a shot.

And that’s about it. I haven’t heard from Jee Yeun for a few days. I’m guessing they don’t have internet in the countryside or something. Last time we talked (messaged) she said she’d be coming home to me as soon as she can get moved out of her apartment. I’m hoping that means sometime this month.

“It’s like I told you, only the lonely can play…”

BACtrack

Posted on 15/September/2014 by John McCrarey

As most of my reader(s) know I enjoy drinking beer in social settings (although rarely at home). While I don’t have much of a social life, I do play darts two or three times per week and I’ve found beer to be a useful tool in that endeavor. In fact, beer is commonly referred to in the sport as “aiming fluid”.

Given the outstanding public transportation system in Korea I never really had to worry about the amount of beer I consumed during a dart match (other than recognizing that after a certain point inebriation will impact on the quality of my game). Here in the USA there is no getting around driving to the various dart venues, so it is imperative to not drink in excess of the legal limit (currently .08 blood alcohol content in South Carolina) when operating a motor vehicle. I’m actually very paranoid about driving after drinking. I never get “drunk-drunk”, but I’m quite certain I could potentially exceed .08 with no outward signs of impairment.

The rule of thumb is to limit yourself to one drink per hour which I find difficult to do. I’m a big guy and based on the online calculators I’ve looked at, I can probably partake in four beers in an hour without crossing the line. What I normally do is drink five beers during a three hour dart match, then switch to diet Coke at the end of the evening. That’s probably a “safe” amount, but other factors come into play (for example, what you have eaten) and the truth of the matter is you can never be certain. Alcohol impairs judgement, and making the judgement that you are okay to drive after drinking is a fool’s bet.

Being arrested for DUI is an expensive and life altering event. And that’s really the best case scenario. God forbid you do something stupid which causes death or injury to yourself or someone else. I’ve learned that two friends were busted for DUI during the six months I was staying in Korea. I’ve also been told that DUI checkpoints are frequently set up along the route I travel home after a night of darting. Despite my intent to be responsible when it comes to drinking and driving, I really fear inadvertently fucking up.

So, this morning I purchased one of these from a company called BACtrack:

My own personal breathalyzer. A bargain at $129.95 considering what a miscalculation would cost me.

Once it arrives it will be interesting to see how accurate my personal rule-of-thumb has been. But one thing is certain, I will never drive my vehicle anytime I am anywhere near the legal limit. In fact, my plan is to not get behind the wheel at over .05. That’s the standard the federal government wants the states to impose. It’s the right thing to do and you can’t put a price tag on the peace of mind that comes with being a responsible driver.

The last supper

Posted on 10/September/2014 by John McCrarey

A final meal with friends Tom and Yuli at Don Valley

I’m fixin’ to head out to Incheon to catch my flight across the wide Pacific. Sad to be making the trip alone, but Jee Yeun needs to stay and care for her mother. I offered to stay and help but Jee Yeun will be taking her mom to the “countryside” for the next couple of weeks. So, faced with being alone either way, I stuck with the plan and will return to the USA as scheduled.

Goodbye to you Korea!

Getting my KIX

Posted on 31/August/2014 by John McCrarey

Yesterday I pulled a DELTA (didn’t ever leave the airport) at Osaka’s Kansai International Airport (KIX). And now through the miracle of the internet you too can share in the adventure!

The day began with an 0600 wake-up call via my trusty Samsung Galaxy. I frittered around for a bit before making it down to the Airport Limo bus stop near my apartment at 0645. Said bus arrived ten minutes later, I paid my W7000 fare, and was off to historic Gimpo International Airport. Note to travelers: I’ve never seen the Airport Limo full up, but this time we left folks standing at the stop after mine. Plan accordingly.

I arrived at Gimpo without incident at 0730 and waited in a long ass line to check in with Korean Air. My flight was at 0905 so I wasn’t too worried. Sure enough, I had my boarding pass and was through security/immigration by eight. Jee Yeun had directed that I purchase her favorite perfume at the duty free store. My last trip to Kansai I wasn’t able to find it, so with time to kill I went shopping in the Lotte duty free store and found what I (she) was looking for. I was $78 poorer and also burdened with carrying (and not losing) a shopping bag for the entirety of my trip, but hey, the things we do for love!

I paid a little extra to fly Korean Air as opposed to the low-cost carrier Peach Air which I used on my previous trip to Osaka. I figured Korean Air would be a little more comfortable in coach but it was every bit as cramped as Peach. Still, I did have the convenience of flying out of Gimpo (much closer to home than Incheon) and Korean Air served a breakfast snack (cinnamon roll, yogurt, pineapple) and free beverages, all of which I would have paid extra for on Peach. Anyway, we left on time and arrived on time with the wheels down, so no complaints.

They say no main is an island. But when you arrive at KIX you are on an island made by man.

They say that no man is an island. But when you arrive at KIX you are on an island made by man.

Another benefit to Korean Air is that you arrive at the main terminal, avoiding a longish bus ride from the wasteland that is terminal 2. After deplaning I made my way to see the immigration man. Apparently coming to Japan for less than a day raises some red flags. On the arrival form I had listed my destination as my return flight to Korea. Immigration man asked me what I would be doing in the land of the rising sun. I told him I’d be taking the train into downtown Osaka and doing a brief tour of the city. He looked at some flight schedules posted on his desk, so I helpfully showed him my return flight info. “That’s eight hours from now” he said incredulously. “Yes it is” I agreed. He shook his head, stamped my passport, and I was off to customs.

Apparently coming to Japan for less than a day without luggage raises some red flags. I recounted my tale of doing a brief tour of Osaka before returning to Korea. He then checked the stamps in my passport and noticed that I had almost exhausted my second 90 day tourist visa in Korea. He asked when I was going back to the US and I showed him my flight info for September 10. He then wanted to know why I was going back to Korea. I told him I have a Korean wife who wants me to return (hard as that may be to believe). He kinda of laughed and said “oh, a Korean wife”. Then he wanted to know what was in the shopping bag, and I told him it was perfume. Apparently buying shit duty free in one country only to carry it back to that same country raises some red flags. “Who’s the perfume for?” he asked. “My wife” I responded. He gave me a look and asked to see the shopping bag. Finding only the perfume and my spare pack of smokes I figured I was good to go. Nope. He decided to search me. Well, it was more of a pat-down than a search. Not sure if he thought I was a terrorist or a drug mule. But finding no weapons or contraband he finally sent me on way.

Having successfully managed a legal entry into Japan, the only thing I had to kill was time. I wandered around the four floors of the terminal to reacquaint myself with the lay of the land. Then I walked over to the train station to see what was going on there. I guess they were having some kind of festival. There was a line of tents with merchants selling various goods and foods. And some loud ass music and dancing. I saw some wild haired Japanese girl band members posing for photos with their fans, but when Gangnam Style started blaring through the speakers it became all too surreal for this oldster, so I headed back to the airport.

I spent three days in downtown Osaka a couple of years ago and despite my protestations to the immigration and custom authorities I was never seriously planning on making the journey this trip. The only real temptation was the chance to ride on this baby:

Maybe next time.

Back in the airport I decided to find me some lunch. Lots of places to choose from, almost all of them catering to the Japanese palate. And truth be told, I’m not real keen on the cuisine of Nippon. I’m almost embarrassed to admit that after quite a bit of indecisive meandering through restaurant row, I finally settled on…McDonald’s. Yeah, I’m that guy. At least I was yesterday. I ordered me the Big Mac set and whipped out the plastic only to be told they only take cash. So, I had a yen to eat but no Yen to eat with. I was kind of astounded because everyone uses plastic money (or e-money from the smart phone) in Korea. So, it was off to find an ATM.

I found one in short order, but it wouldn’t accept foreign cards (in an international airport for crissakes!). I had a brief moment of panic as I contemplated spending the day without the basic necessities of life (beer). Although I did have W50,000 or so I could have exchanged if I got desperate. I walked around until I found another ATM and this one worked, so I filled my wallet with one Y10,000 note ($96). Flush with cash it was back to McD’s. After dining I checked my watch and saw that I had managed to whittle a whopping 1.5 hours off my 8 hour layover. The day was proving to be almost as long as this post!

I went upstairs to the Korean Air counter to see if I could score an earlier flight home. No dice. They said I couldn’t even check in for my flight until 3:30. What to do? With Yen to spend and nowhere else to go, I opted for the KIX Airport Lounge. They charge Y410 for 30 minutes, and Y120 every 10 minutes thereafter. But I bought the 6 hour package for Y3090 ($30) which provided me a cozy booth equipped with a computer, reclining chair, and free soft drinks (beers were Y210 each, and I had several).

My home away from home. Although the chair here is much more comfortable than anything at home. Considering the alternative, it was the best $30 I’ve spent in awhile.

The “booth” is basically a small cubicle, with walls about 4 feet tall. Cozy I guess you could call it. But from here I was able to explore the nooks and crannies of the internet in relative comfort. I got sleepy around 1:30 or so and reclined that chair full back and tried to catch a nap. Unfortunately, the folks in the common area were being a bit on the noisy side. So I pulled up YouTube on the computer, found a Neil Young album that I favor, put on the headphones, and enjoyed the soothing rhythms of the 1970s. I fell asleep somewhere during the last song on the album (Words Between the Lines of Age). I haven’t napped in a recliner for many a year and I had forgotten just how pleasant an experience that can be. I awoke at 3:30 feeling relaxed, refreshed, and almost perky. And with four more hours left until my flight.

The lounge came with a largish library. Everything was in Japanese, but it was still quite impressive.

This is but one shelf of several of Japanese books. Comic books!

I didn’t even bother trying to make sense of those. But there was also a large magazine rack. Also all in Japanese. But I figured at least I could look at the pictures.

Yikes! Scantily clad Japanese school girls.

Now, I’ve been around for awhile (shuddup!) but seriously, I was pretty shocked. The girls in the magazine I picked couldn’t have been a day over 16. Now, there was nothing overtly lewd (no more than you’d see at the beach really), but something about it just made me feel icky. I quickly returned the mag to the rack hoping no one would see me and think I’m a pervert. So, it was back to YouTube and mind numbing American television (World’s Dumbest) for me. And soon enough my time in the KIX Airport Lounge reached it’s conclusion and it was time to begin the process of my return journey to Korea.

Check-in, customs, and security went off without incident (I was a little worried I might get hassled over the perfume). Reached my gate with 45 minutes to spare and a pocket full of Japanese coins. Interestingly, the Y1000 note is the smallest unit of paper money in Japan, so the coins multiply like drunken rabbits (I added drunken so as not to be cliche. Regular readers will attest that I avoid trite phrases like the plague). I found a vending machine that sold cans of Asahi beer so I bought me a tall can and enjoyed it with tobacco in the smoking lounge. I noted that I had one 500 denominated coin left so I went to the convenience store and picked up a Coke Zero and a bag of pretzels. Handed the coin to the clerk and she said “that’s Korean money”. D’oh! So, I gave her a Y1000 note and wound up with more change.

The remains of the day.

Flight back was uneventful (the way I like it!). As we approached Gimpo I noticed the highways were jam packed and made a mental note to take the subway instead of the Airport Limo home. Korean immigration didn’t seem to mind my less than a day out of country and awarded me another 90 days (I only needed one). Customs didn’t care about the perfume either. I exchanged my remaining yen (except for the coins of course) for Won and then hoofed it to the subway (a pretty fair piece, especially at the end of a long day).

Only problem was I wasn’t sure about the subway route. I rarely venture out to the Gimpo side of town so none of the stations were familiar. There were two lines (5 and 9) and I didn’t know if either connected with line 4 that takes me home. I went to the information counter and despite lacking a common language was able to convey that I was going to Gireum and learn that line 5 did in fact intersect with line 4 at Dongdaemun History and Culture Park. It was a long haul but I made it safely home by 11:30.

And there you have it. I guess the only question new visitors to LTG may be asking is “why?” The short answer is because I’m stupid. When I did my visa run back in June I miscounted the days. My tourist visa expires on the 9th and my flight to the USA is on the 10th. The events described above were actually the lesser of the pains in the ass available to me to rectify my unfortunate inability to count.

Another milestone

Posted on 27/August/2014 by John McCrarey

White line fever, a sickness born
Down deep within my soul
White line fever, the years keep flyin’ by
Like the highline poles

The wrinkles in my forehead
Show the miles I’ve put behind me
They continue to remind how fast I’m growin’ old
Guess I’ll die with this fever in my soul –Merle Haggard

Today marks the anniversary of the commencement of my first journey around the sun of which I have now completed 59 circuits. Man am I tired!

I’ve gotten older but I can’t say I’m all that much wiser. No great insights as I enter the last year of my fifties. Truth is, I’m feeling a little melancholy. It’s not just that with each passing year mortality looms ever larger, it’s more that what once were limitless possibilities and opportunities have been reduced to an uncomfortable understanding that this is what I’ve become and it is all that I will ever be. It has been said that a dreamer lives forever, but I’ll be damned if I can think of a dream that fits me now. Well, other than dreaming of my lost youth which is a fool’s game for sure.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not feeling sorry for myself. Life has bestowed upon me many blessings, including a wife who loves me against all reason. I have healthy children and grandchildren. I’m living comfortably on a generous pension (thanks Uncle Sam!). And despite living a decidedly unhealthy lifestyle I’m in generally good health. Well, the aches and pains that come with age are a constant companion these days, but I’m still climbing the stairs up to the bars on dart nights (and stumbling back down). I see folks all around me who can’t do the things I still do and enjoy, so yeah, I’ve been lucky. And if that’s all there is, by god, I’m gonna keep on doing it for as long as I can.

Perhaps what makes me feel my age the most is that I’m pretty much the oldest guy I know. Meaning almost all the people I spend time with are young enough to be my kids. Or younger. Of course, in my mind (especially after a few beers) I still think I’m thirty. I fear that when I act that way I must be perceived as the stereotypical “creepy old guy” hanging out with the young crowd. But what are you gonna do? I’ve never wanted to live a vanilla life and I’m not about to go “gentle into that dark goodnight“.

I wonder just what makes a man keep pushing on
What makes me keep on hummin’ this old highway song
I’ve been from coast to coast a hundred times before
I ain’t found one single place where I ain’t been before

White line fever, a sickness born
Down deep within my soul
White line fever, the years keep flyin’ by
Like the highline poles

Anyway, happy birthday to me. I have no idea where the road of life will take me next, but I sure as hell ain’t looking for an exit!

Jee Yeun asked me what I wanted for my birthday. I didn’t have the heart to tell her “to be 30”.

I always preferred Graham Parsons and the Flying Burrito Brothers version of the song:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kU0WcW2k2tc

Regarding religion

Posted on 01/August/2014 by John McCrarey

So, I’ve found myself thinking about religion of late. Not in terms of getting me some, just in general. Which is to say I’m not exactly sure where these thoughts are taking me, but bear with me and we’ll muddle through together, okay?

Now, I was pretty much raised in the protestant tradition, at least to the extent that my grandmother dutifully took us to Sunday school every week. I even played steel guitar in a little church band that toured the western states when I was 12. At around 15 or 16 though I entered my rebellious phase and pretty much came to the conclusion that organized religion was all bullshit. I certainly want no part of the Old Testament vengeful and jealous God, nor do I believe the stories of the virgin birth and resurrection. Which I guess means that I ain’t much of a Christian.

Having said that, I do try very hard to be respectful of the religious beliefs of others. I have a couple of Facebook “friends” (meaning people I’ve never actually met in real life) who constantly mock people of faith (usually Christians since they don’t have the balls to publicly criticize Muslims). They are as strident in their atheist beliefs as any other religious zealot I have encountered. In fact, I find their rants every bit as irritating as a knock on the door from a Jehovah’s Witness.

My second ex-wife was a Baptist (the other two ex’s were Catholic and the current wife is Buddhist) and I didn’t object to her taking my young children to church every Sunday. For awhile I attended with them, but damn, I rarely left church feeling uplifted. The sermons tended to piss me off as much as anything. The final straw for me was the Sunday school session where we talked about “free will”. Which was immediately followed by an entreaty to join in a planned march on the state house in favor of anti-abortion legislation. I asked the Sunday school teacher how it could be that God gave mankind free will, but the Baptist church wanted to pass laws restricting choice? I got the old standard reply that it was “a matter of faith”. Whatever the hell that means. The epilog to that incident came when the leader of the anti-abortion contingent got pregnant and was told the fetus did not a brain stem. Yep, she aborted.

So, if I have a problem with religion it’s with the hypocrisy of the adherents. The stuff people do in the name of God makes me want no part of the God they profess to believe in. Oddly enough though, I don’t think of myself as an atheist. I can accept the concept of some intelligence or power manifested in nature and the universe. It’s just not the God you read about in earthly religious texts. The closest I ever felt to this “God” was the night I had an epiphany after making love to my Mormon girlfriend. “God is love” is what I felt in that blessed moment of understanding. The very next day this woman whom I loved like I’ve loved no other broke up with me. Which proves I guess that my God has a whacky sense of humor. Still, I will confess that in times of crisis throughout my life I have found some comfort in prayer. If that makes me a hypocrite too, so be it.

What prompted me to write about religion now I guess is current events. Jews killing Palestinians in retaliation of Palestinians killing Jews. Muslims killing Christians and everyone else who doesn’t adhere to the dogma of that particular sect. All in the name of the same God of course. But that is where any moral equivalence ends. Israel has the right to defend herself. If Hamas doesn’t like civilian casualties, they should stop trying to kill Israeli civilians. And what ISIS is currently doing in Iraq (and the Taliban in Afghanistan) is an affront to all humanity. So, when my liberal friends lament the “war on women” as evidenced by Hobby Lobby not wanting to pay for birth control on religious grounds, I share this photo:

“We have established the brigade to raise awareness of our religion among women, and to punish women who do not abide by the law” –ISIS commander

Now, I want to accept as fact that of the billion or so Muslims in the world, only a relatively small percentage are of the radical Islamist variety that engages in head chopping, stoning, honor killing, and flying passenger planes into buildings. But here’s the thing–I never see protests or outrage from these “moderates” regarding the atrocities being done in the name of Allah. In fact, what I have witnessed is quite the opposite.

I have a couple of Pakistani Muslim friends in Itaewon. Both are smart, kind, and generous. They own a bar I regularly frequent. Both drink, smoke, and have married outside the faith. I guess it doesn’t get any more moderate than that, right? Except they have gone ballistic (no pun intended) over the current conflict in Gaza. I finally had to block one of them on Facebook because I grew weary of the anti-Israel and anti-American (like it’s our fault!) rants. I could match ten photos of some outrageous act being perpetuated in Pakistan for every Israeli impropriety. And at least Israel is acting in self-defense, not out of some misguided belief in religious justification (what, she was raped? We must stone her for being a whore!).

Anyway, I posted the picture above on my Facebook in the context of American politics (the so-called war on women). And my Muslim friend responded that it was “anti-Muslim propaganda”. One of the commenters asked if he was denying the existence of the Islamic State of Iraq (ISIS) and the murderous acts in which they are currently engaged. He responded:

yes ISIS exist and they have broken Syria and Iraq in to parts. They are trying to create a divide in Sunni’s and Shiites. Rumor has it that the leader of ISIS Abu Bakr Baghdadi was trained by CIA and mosad to create chaos in middle east so that the idea of greater Israel can be achieved. I came across a world map issued by the US think tanks in which they have shown 5 middle eastern countries dividing into 15 smaller countries. If u Google it you can find it and then you search for greater Israel map and you will know a secret.

So much for moderate Islam, eh? Suffice to say, I no longer feel comfortable patronizing their bar these days. I have taken an oath to avoid drama in Itaewon and I fear that drinking there may lead me to say some things that will lead to dramatic consequences. And to what end? Clearly, no minds will be changed.

Of course, America’s feckless foreign policy has played a part in what is taking place in the Middle East. Can’t blame God for that, although I can and do blame Obama.

Sorry for the rant. I’m just thinking things are gonna get a whole lot worse before they get any better.

God help us all.

About last night

Posted on 19/July/2014 by John McCrarey

So, I had my typical Friday night of darts at Dolce Vita although somewhat atypically I managed a first place finish. My nephew Justin came by the bar for a couple of beers and then we headed out to the samgyapsal joint I favor.

As is our normal practice the conversation soon turned to politics. And when I start getting wound up my voice gets somewhat intense. Not shouting really, just kind of aggressive. I was in this mode when the waitress came to our table and shushed me. Now, I was taken aback by this because it was just the two of us at the table surrounded by crowded tables of loud Koreans drinking and laughing and enjoying their grilled pork belly. Which is how it should be. I mean, this was not a fine dining establishment. And to be honest about it, I may have been talking louder than normal if only to be heard above the din of the surrounding crowd. As I looked around the room and noticed just how loud everyone else was being I got pissed off.

At that very moment the waitress who had offended me was serving the largest and loudest table of Koreans in the joint. So I turned around and said (probably shouted) “are you going to tell them to be quiet too, or is it only the miguks who aren’t allowed to make noise?” Of course, I said this in English so I’m sure she didn’t understand most of it, but it did appear from her reaction that she got my point. I turned back to my nephew and said “am I wrong?”. He agreed that we hadn’t been louder than anyone else but he said he was embarrassed by my outburst.

I guess in retrospect I am too. This is not the first time I’ve encountered being singled out for noise when Koreans are notoriously loud when dining (especially when soju is involved) and seem to be ignored. But responding to racism with rudeness is not the solution. I’m sure all I did was perpetuate a negative stereotype when I loudly confronted the waitress. I should have just let it go like I normally do I suppose.

I think it is also true that English voices tend to stand out in the crowd so to speak. I’ve noticed it on the subway myself that foreigners always sound louder when they are speaking together. Upon *ahem* more sober reflection perhaps I sounded louder than I was.

Meanwhile, I was again awakened early this morning by noise from the downstairs park. This time it was two ajummas shouting at each other. And so it goes.

Oh, I also doused my keyboard in diet Coke this morning. I did my best to clean it up quickly, but as I feared some of the keys are now not functioning correctly. Which made typing this post especially challenging. Ain’t life grand?

Little orphan Johnny

Posted on 15/June/2014 by John McCrarey

Well, maybe not so little these days.

Walter Lee McCrarey, aka Dad

Today is the day we celebrate Father’s Day in the USA. All that remains of my father are the memories. To be bluntly honest about it, I spent my childhood mostly in fear of my dad. He had a hot temper and was quick with the hand or belt should I stray from the path of good behavior. In later years we argued loudly about politics and rarely saw eye-to-eye on anything.

But he was a good man. Smart, hardworking, and extremely talented in so many ways. He could do just about anything he set his mind on–woodworking was a special gift of his (sadly, that gene skipped a generation). He also loved gardening, camping, the sea, poetry–and in his own unique way–his children.

It’s strange the things that come to mind unbidden. The other day I recalled how my father served as my personal seatbelt back in those long ago days before vehicles were so equipped. During a hard brake, his arm would reach out to keep me from sliding off the seat and into the cold hard steel of the unpadded dashboard. It looked something like this:

I also remember he’d on occasion sing me a song as we drove along. I remember the lyrics as going something like:

Papa writes to Johnny, but Johnny can’t come home No Johnny can’t home Papa writes to Johnny but Johnny can’t come home ‘Cause he’s been on the chain gang too long

Oddly enough, I have never in my life actually heard this song performed. Until today when I found it on YouTube. Either my dad got the lyrics wrong or I’m thinking of a different tune, but the song was hauntingly beautiful regardless. And somehow fitting for the occasion of this fatherless father’s day.

Inspired

Posted on 04/June/2014 by John McCrarey

Blog buddy Kevin (aka the Big Hominid) posted yesterday about a hamburger he mostly enjoyed at one of the on-campus eateries at the university that employs him. Now, it was not just any hamburger mind you, it was an egg-a-burger!

I’ve been a fan of this particular culinary delight ever since my first purchase from a street vendor one long ago (and drunken) night in Itaewon. And now that I’ve acquired a Korean wife I can enjoy them in the comfort of my own home. Like today for instance. When Jee Yeun asked me if I was hungry I immediately thought of Kevin’s post and responded “egg-a-burger!” Through the miracle of the internet you too can partake in the creation (although sadly not the consumption) of this special treat.

Hamburger patty, melted cheese slice, and a fried egg…

Skillet toasted bread slices fresh from Paris Baguette…

…add some cucumber and onion slices…

…ketchup is my condiment of choice, your mileage may vary…

Top it off with some lettuce…

…and the masterpiece is complete! It tastes even better than it looks!

Thanks for the inspiration Kevin!

Observations regarding a parking lot

Posted on 28/May/2014 by John McCrarey

I occasionally spend time out on the back balcony watching the ~~beautiful women walk past~~ world go by, which may seem like a frivolous waste of time. But you’d be surprised by the cultural insights you can derive when you consider the activities taking place in a small parking lot.

I took the photo above this morning around 0800 which is a quiet time given that most hard working Koreans are already out and about working hard. Throughout the day however, the lot is a beehive of activity as people come and go about their business. And generally there are more cars in the lot than there are available spaces. That this is not a big problem strikes me as little short of remarkable.

Take that small blue car parked in the middle of the lot for instance. Now, by my count he has at least three other cars blocked in their spaces. What you can’t see is that the blue car has been left in the neutral gear. So, when the driver of one of those blocked cars needs to go, he simply rolls the offending car out of the way. And anyone else in the vicinity will give a hand with the push. When the lot is full, I’ve seen several cars repositioned in this fashion. It’s an impressive display of cooperation and no one seems to get angry or annoyed at the inconvenience. I just can’t imagine a similar system working so well in the USA, at least without violence or vandalism.

Another thing I see on a daily basis is young women hiding out in the back corner of the lot to sneak a quick smoke. Women may feel comfortable walking about in micro-miniskirts (bless their hearts!) but a female smoking on the street is just not acceptable in polite Korean society. I’m reminded of the story about a Korean-American woman visiting Seoul who was enjoying a cigarette on a busy street corner. Suddenly a Korean man started yelling at her in a language she could not understand. So she just stood there looking at him. Finally in exasperation, he took the cigarette from her, threw it on the ground, and walked away muttering in disgust.

Less frequently (but twice yesterday) I see young couples seeking out the privacy of the parking lot for a quick little make out session. I’m talking kisses and hugs here, nothing obscene. It’s actually kinda sweet. Although I think I should learn to say “hey, get a room!” in Korean. That would be pretty hilarious and maybe make me feel like less of a voyeur.

The world is an interesting place. Or maybe I’m just easily entertained.

“Though half a score of years are gone, Spring comes as sharply now as then— But if we had it all to do It would be done the same again.

“Though half a score of years are gone,
Spring comes as sharply now as then—
But if we had it all to do
It would be done the same again.