Pudding and Chopsticks

This dudes looking for crawfish, and I can only guess why.

I suppose I am smart in passing up these little bad boys everytime the boss takes me to the “boat” for lunch. Nice clean water.. Can’t you tell?

Night Photograph.

Daytime Photograph.

This was the cute little cow that inhabited the sidewalk and probably the dining area of a local restaurant for two days.

You ready for it…

This is the cow now..

That’s right. They butchered it right in the middle of the sidewalk and then proceeded to sell it. Yes a little odd. But I grew up with these things deer hunting. More in the woods and less on the sidewalk though.

I called a friend and she rolled down and bought some. Apparently it was fairly cheap. Anywho, that’s life.

So I was walking my morning route which involves hitting up my local dumpling place and then around the block when I spotted something. Something that I haven’t ever seen here before. Not that it really surprised me. If anything I was surprised that I hadn’t seen it before. Anyway take a gander and hopefully you find it as funny as I do.

This fine food establishment is called something like, Genuine Cattle Meat Restaurant. Well, at least it’s fresh..

Oh and by the way, that little cardboard sign on that post. Yeah, it states that on the 23 of this month, today, they will kill the cow.. Hot dog. Looks like lunch is going to be cattle steak.

First, credit for the phrase “everyone is a lawyer” goes to a friend of mine. You know who you are. Second, in China, everyone is a lawyer, professionally debater, and self preservationist all in one. 

Let me explain. 

I give my workers work all the time and without fail the fight it all the time. The differences about working in America and working in China and the way that a boss is treated.

Boss in America. You don’t talk back to them, you do what they say, and hey, you are buddy, buddy. 

In China. You debate everything that is told to you, say you can’t do it, and it’s more of a slave type relationship. No buddy buddy, and all work. 

Today for example: We had an issue with a finished widget. This was a big issue because the parts to all the widgets are made. So if we put one together and this widget is wrong, we got issues because that would mean that the parts were wrong and we would have to make them over again. To combat this we had to go re examine some parts. These parts were already looked at and QC’d. But again, we and to look at them again to double check. So, I get my part QC girl and we roll over to the part area. I then tell her that we have to look at a random selection of 5%. 

In America; Ok, boss no problem, I understand that I have to randomly select 5% and reexamine them to make sure that they were correctly made. 30 sec later. Uh, ok, good deal. I’ll make It happen. 

In China; why do I have to do this? I already did this? Why do I have to do this again. I already did this. I don’t have enough time. I can’t do this. I got other widgets to look at. I’m so tired. I can’t do this. 5 minutes later. Uh, ok. I’ll do it. 

This is just the way it is. So you deal with it. I fact I have become a pretty good debater. But you can’t just go willy hilly with humiliating workers. You have to finesse them. For instance, hand out new pens and markers and then ask for whatever you need done. Haha. Classic 

There are other things that happen like you need a new widget designed and it’s the workers first time doing it. They will without fail say no. I can’t do it. They will not tell you that it’s their first time. Basically “I can’t do it” is more like code for, uh, this is my first time and I got no idea what the hell I am doing. You get used to this and learn to work with it and ask the right questions. For instance you start asking why can’t they do it and then offer ways to do it. You give them outs and ways that they can achieve the output that you want. Maybe a little debating and a little, why can’t you make this when yesterday you made one almost identical. That usually works. All without making them lose face.

Such is life.

A couple new photographs.

This is my 91yr old grandfather who recently passed away. I took this photo when I came back from Colorado before coming to China, I think anyway. I haven’t looked at the photo data to be sure.

I see it and I remember him in one word….. Well.

He said it with a long drawn out u-curved sound. He was making his point. If you stated a fact that he didn’t agree with or thought was contradictory to something, weeeelllll would roll out along with his eyes.

He was a quite man, who had a am/fm radio on the dining room table. Ate bananas everyday, and watched the Wheel of Fortune.

Chaqita banana stickers were every where around the table. Stuck on anything and everything.

I would roll over to find him puttering out in the garage. Tinkering on something mechanical.

I can remember one time when I was playing on some concrete play ground items. I slipped and wacked my head on the edge of one, splitting my eye lid open and bleeding all over. He drove the truck to the doctors. It was dusk, he jumped curbs, which lead to the conclusion that he had cataracts. What a way to find out.

The green Dodge prospector. The truck I remember him having. Whatever the car it was always a Dodge or Chrysler.

I was named after him. I am the fourth, he was the second or Jr. As you could say.

The Lincoln. The fender.

The hats. Lots of hats.

The suspenders.

The little mind games in the drawer by the chair.

The garage. The mowers.

Putting me through college.

Newspapers.

The stories the last couple times I saw him.

The way he would meander into the room, stop look, then keep going.

The Homer furnace iron plate in the window of the garage.

The green truck.

Tweetie bird.

Table saw.

The funny faces.

The garden.

The wit.

Looking out the window of the house, watching the birds and squirrels.

The neighbor that got his with the tree.

These are things that remind me of him. I am proud to have the same name as him, I only hope that I can do it justice and make him proud along with the rest of my family.

Thanks for the photo grandpa, peace out.

So here I am. Sitting typing, thinking and doing whatever super smart people do, or at least people who think they are super smart do.

The past week has brought some interesting things in the way of life.

I finally found out why I was sick.

I had a family member pass.

I’m feeling better.

And I just ate an Oreo Blizzard from Dairy Queen.

The reason I was sick was because, I had freaking mold in my apartment. That’s right. It appears that the last resident left some thing in a drawer that left something that then you couldn’t see that then turned into some black mold that nearly put an end to my existence, slowly nonetheless.

Solution, move and take enough antibiotic to kill a bout of syphilis.

The hospitals here are super corrupt. I suppose some more than others. So the first thing the doc does is look at my tonsils and say, cut ‘em out. I laugh. He is just trying to get as much money as he can. Thus the most money he can get is cutting them out. Blood work is fine, fast forward to him giving me penicillin and me booking ass out of there, I’ve been staying at a friends house since. Problem solved. Next hurdle; new apartment.

The place that I am in is neither here or there. Right now I’m not in China, not in America. It’s not a place defined by governments, rules, or regulations. It’s not a place that anyone wants to go but everyone will eventually end up. It’s a place full of memories, laughter, smiles, and tears. A place full of photographs locked away inside our minds that are unleashed into a flood of emotions. A place where it’s hard to concentrate, hard to think and even hard to breath. It’s a place that’s different for everyone but the circumstances are the same. A place where for most only dark clouds loom and there aren’t any umbrellas. Where there is light at the end of the tunnel but you can barely see it. It’s a place that will eventually part to sunshine and blue skies. Its memories will always be a part of our future. Once are go to this place, we never forget it. Some will try their entire lives to understand it, some will devote everything they have to be a part of it, some work in it, some will write books about it. Most will never understand it. For children this place is somewhere that will forever shape their lives. This place will shape all of us after we depart from it. Afterward we may be basted with sunlight, smiles and life. We may have to deal with trivial inconsequential things. We may have to make the hard decisions, the easy ones, or not have to make any at all. But through all of this, this place will be lurking oh so close behind out backs. Perhaps with a photograph, a phrase of spoken words, maybe even the most indistinguishable thing to most will trigger a flood of memories of this place. A place that is in us. A place that isn’t dictated by the rules of race, skin color, governments, or rules. A place that will pass by with time. But nonetheless a place we will never forget. This place is everywhere we are. In war, in love, in each in everyone of us. At any moment we could be there, waiting for it to pass, but not wanting to forget. A place that is neither here or there, but a place that today, I am at.

Goodbye Grandpa P.

It’s 6:30 pm and I’m still drunk. At least for the most part. I’m watching Ktv girls walk into work. Aka, prostitutes. Well, I could be wrong. Some might be just hired guns that can drink.

I’ve been drunk for about 5 hours, maybe 6, I can’t remember. The power was shut off at the factory. In fact it was shut off to the whole area. Traffic lights off, factories shut down, mopeds not being charged, what better else to do but go drink.

We get a call at 11:30am not much past the time we find out that the power went off. The call confirms what we had thought all along. A drinking afternoon. Pretty much a given. The powers off, the factory can’t work, not much else to do but some male bonding. And that I did. The perfect chance to drink with the one person that my future relies on. The one person that controls my fate. The person that is in charge of getting me my next visa. And bond I do. I cheers him like I’m leaving for good tomorrow. Does he know what is going on, maybe, do I, for sure.

We arrive at the new restaurant about noon. A new place in a new development. The boss must know the owner, if not own it. I wouldn’t be surprised. It’s upscale but not too upscale. Of course we go the biggest room this establishment offers, I wouldn’t except anything less.

We are each given our own bottle of the local flavor, 400ml of 15% alcohol and shot glasses. At least this time we are given shot glasses. Beats downing entire regular glasses of this stuff. Now it’s beginning to feel a little like home. All I need is a pile of salt and a lime.

The duck tongues come out, along with veggies, meat, and other Chinese dishes. Nothing new really. I’ve become immune to Chinese food. Hell you could bring out bull nuts and I wouldn’t ink twice about gnawing on one. Just another day in the PRC.

The food is good, the company is good, the second bottle is down, the third has a dent in it and everyone is buddy buddy. We bail.

I get a girls number and start texting. Five texts in and she already wants to learn English. Why am I not surprised. Anyhow I sit typing this in a coffee shop. I could of either passed out, or went to town, I went to town. Not much else to do after your drunk and it’s 3 pm.

A little coffee and some Internet goes a long way to build a man’s self esteem. A rack of dumplings and here I am watching the girls go to work.

There is a singing joint not the third floor of the mall, the girls enter through the door right in front of me. Is this fate, hardly, I chose this seat for a reason.

Whether they sell their bodies is up for debate. Here they might not, it seems upscale, but the dirtier places, they do and for cheap.

Hell it’s almost seven and I’ve got to be getting home. Lots of nothing to be doing there. It’s kind of refreshing to be blasted in the afternoon. As if nothing really matters. Because really, if work can’t work and you -can’t work, why not. The day’s of the scotch in the office are gone. In the States at least. The 1950′s are over. Which is a shame really. Because I must say I enjoy the occasional afternoon binge..