as if it was a hummer

The longest winter in my life started on October 28th, 2002. It lasted for 6 months.

Coming from a city where snow is not possible, I was surprised by the first glance of my first snow storm. Pennsylvanians told me that I was lucky to meet an early snow fall. Six months later, they told me that I was unlucky to be in a white world for so long.

On February 17th, 2003, as if clouds had all fallen onto the ground, everything was covered, and the sky was so blue and clear. Nothing could be recognized easily. Curbs and roads were not differentiable. Cars all looked the same.
An original 5-minute walk took me 30 minutes. My whole leg was drowned in the snow. I was sweating badly in my jacket even though my mouth was smoking. I was in a high spirit. I forgot to have home-sickness. I could have hot chocolate day and night with this great excuse. I realized that I was a tiny tiny unimportant element, soon could be the same as the rest of the world - white. Nothing had been so overwhelming. I felt like a new person.

Friends are for building memories together. Old friends are for sharing experience in the same situation. Where were you during the earthquake? What were you doing before the blackout? How did you get your car out on Feb 17 of 03? My old friends in hometown can never answer the last question. My life has separated from theirs. I took a different route, no turning back.
They would not understand how water crystallized on my eyelashes. Some crystals were tears of excitement of growing up and being independent.

The above paragraphs were originally posted on Helium.com with a pen name.
Now the reason I dug them out and posted here is because exactly 6 years later on the same day -- Oct 28 -- I experienced the first snow storm of the year.
Damn.
I was seriously cursing as driving through the storm and stuck in the storm. You may have already learned my stories of driving in snow and understood how much I hate it.

Fall is the best season for driving in Chester. Classy colors such as golden, red, yellow are so pure and so proudly display everywhere.
Today they were everywhere including snow, which made the driving even trickier than simply (which is so not simple) driving in snow. Fallen leaves mixed with dirty wet snow created a horrible condition on the road. Even though the view was unbelievably full of oil-painting colors, being a bug driver suddenly could not appreciate the nature more than worry about my own safety.

Bungbung has been through a lot. As if he was a hummer rather than a beetle.
Just after he mysteriously recovered from lock dysfunction, he was playing snow yet again. No one was prepared to meet snow before they left their houses. Beautiful maple trees were still holding their colorful leaves. Snow suddenly came. The roads were covered with thick white dirt, scaring some drivers off road. Trees couldn't endure the burden and fell, blocking the already heavily messy traffic.
Bungbung's smile went cold.

So I made a decision that I should've done before Paola and I called for help, which did help us spiritually but not practically. We safely got out of the storm in three hours and went back to south (several towns away) to work at our desks (doesn't sound more fun than being stuck in snow).
I was a bit grumpy but not too grumpy. All I did was taking today's experience as a good chance to meet Ms. Solo who has a severe neglect disorder and frontal symptoms. Talking to her challenged my English because she somehow appeared understanding but could not follow any command as simple as "draw a vertical line" while she was totally cooperative and energetic and never frustrated failing almost all paper/pencil tasks. An amazing case.

Then I remembered what Paola had asked me just last week.
"Does it snow here?"
"Yes."
"Cool. I like snow."
"I like it too. But I am not going to drive to work in snow."
"Really? That bad?"
"Yes."
"So how can I drive to see patients?"
"You can't."
"We don't see patients in winter?"
"We write papers in winter."
It was Paola's first time driving in snow today. I bet she got a closer interpretation of our previous conversation.

Bungbung will not be a hummer. See how ridiculous they are:

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bench

"It's a nice weather, isn't it?" A stranger said.
I was reading newspapers, not paying attention to him. The weather was not nice. It was windy. Last night, a storm damaged the roof of the Park, making the garden of the Park dripping, making the supposedly-feels-like-outdoor part of the restaurant feel like outdoor. The storm also hit all the leaves in the City down to the earth. The fall was called off over night, and it was not nice.
I was in my fluffy coat with the hood on to protect my head and hairdo, with mittens protecting my fingers.
The stranger got the signal of I-am-not-sorry-that-I-am-not-interested-in-talking-to-you from me and left.
A stranger's boring pick-up line would not kill my day. Even though it looked like I was doing one of the things that are listed on my "least favorite" list, I was actually not waiting on a cold bench for something uncertain to happen.
I was doing my favorite thing out of the museum while Liu was doing his thing inside the Met.
I'm not a big fan of the Met. I especially don't enjoy the weekend crowd fighting for air indoors. I love my Sunday papers. I was reading them with a good mood. Yeah, it was a windy but at least sunny day.

And my phone rang.
Claudia called for help. She was supposed to go back to my neighborhood in New Jersey by train. Her car was there. Javier, a Penn Stater who she and I had just met last night in the Park, was going to take a ride with her.
While she was hurrying to catch the train, she left an important bag in the train station in Manhattan. She called me from New Jersey.
I jumped up and gathered the papers into my weekend luggage and jumped into a cab.
Time was the only important factor now. If I could get to the station before anyone took her bag, I might save her life. I wished I were the spider man.

It was a wrong idea of hopping into a cab on the fifth ave. The traffic was not moving. While there was a credit card machine in the cab, it was broken, so the driver dropped me at an ATM after we finally got out the crammed traffic.
The driver felt secure that he would get cash for his job, and he finally started to behave like a New York taxi driver. I arrived in Penn Station and looked for Claudia's bag. I didn't find it. The cleaning lady had not seen it. The staff sitting in the customer service booth had not received anything from anyone.
I waited.
For Liu to join my waiting.
For Claudia to return.

Two police officers did the lost report for Claudia, asking her what was in the bag.
"Halloween costume." Claudia said. Later, she expressed how upset she was that she had just bought it for a great price. The police spelled the word incorrectly: Holloween.
"Other valuable things?" The officer asked.
"Hm. Tea. Three boxes." Claudia replied. I looked at her and disbelieved that she had not mentioned about her hand bag which held her cards and keys. The police wrote "Tea-3".
"And?" The police asked again.
"And my hand bag." I was relieved and leaving her with the police. Well, I should not have. She left her backpack in the police station without noticing it. She was embarrassed later when retrieving it from the police.

Liu and Javier were waiting. I joined them. Claudia was trying to reach her credit card companies.
We, then, all waited for a subway train to the Chinatown for Claudia and Javier to take a bus back to State College. Well... there was no 5pm bus but a 7pm bus, which meant more waiting. Thus, we decided to get fed. In this unbusy hour, the kitchen was almost closed. So we waited for waitresses to bring food.

The whole incidence must not feel nice on Claudia's end. I am not making jokes out of it. I totally understand her lost, physically and psychologically. However, I wish she did feel lucky that we were there with her, waiting. I wish she didn't feel alone, dealing with everything on her own.

Life does not teach me how to be tough. It has taught me how to soften myself and appreciate help and company from others. It has taught me that living alone does not mean living in isolation. It has taught me that it is great to get warm hugs when I really need them.

Waiting on a bench is boring. Waiting on a bench for a person you care is showing your support. Waiting on a bench with a person who care about you is a blessing.
I realized that there is no such thing as running out of luck. I am lucky that there are people that I care, and that there is a person who care about me.

Be calm. Keep breathing. Things will be better.

bungbung episode

Bungbung is getting weird.
He and I have bad times and good times. Recently he has been doing something weird. Actually this is not the first time he shows his attitude. When it happened for the first time, it lasted for three days. This time is longer than three days.
He randomly responds to electronic commands for locking the door on the driver side, which is my side. There are three electronic commands for the same outcome (door locking): 1) pressing the lock button on the remote key, 2) pressing the lock button on the door, and 3) once the car runs faster than 8 mph, it automatically locks itself. For two or three weeks, Bungbung refused to follow any of those commands--- only on the driver side. I had to manually lock it, which is very annoying and makes me paranoid.
Last weekend, Liu drove it. It locked itself by all the three commands mentioned above. I was not happy about it.

So not fair. I am your master, boy. What's your problem?
Your behavior is not rational and just emphasizes that you're a gay boy, which I've known because that is the sexual identity I assigned to you while naming you.

Kim said it is all because I named him and talk to him.
So? Guys call their cars wives. Why can't I name it? In English, cars should be female. But Bungbung is not English. By all means, he is German.

I should take him back to the dealer and re-set the electronic circuit. That's what the dealer always does: re-set the circuit, and everything is fine. But I am too busy to spend an entire morning just for re-setting the loop. I am going to wait for the next oil change and do them at once.

He responded to me yesterday. He locked to all the three commands.
You're tired of giving me attitude? Or the weather makes you want to lock out all the cold air?
Try me. It's ok. I love you anyway.

When something random happens, people prefer to believe that it happens for a selective reason. Such as miracle. Such as Bungbung actually listens to me.
People prefer to take things personally.

Oh, relax. It is nothing personal. Don't get offended so easily. Bungbung's nerve system is functioning but a bit abnormal. It can be fixed.

Exactly. I not only talk to my car but also talk to myself. I hide this trait pretty well, I believe.
Everyone should learn how to talk to themselves. This is a good exercise for allowing yourself some time to think things over from an outsider's point of view.
I have started talking to myself in my head since 5 years old. At first, I talked to myself when daydreaming. I daydreamed a lot because I had to walk 30 minutes to school, and because I had to tell myself bedtime stories at 9 o'clock every night. When I was 10, I started to use English. Mama spoke in fluent English when she was drunk. So I thought it was cool to speak English like an adult.
Then I found my daydreams and my thoughts getting more and more negative and upset --- all teenagers like to think that they can foresee sad things to happen and pre-experience all the horrible things in life. So I started listening to music distracting my mind from being depressed. See? I was able to monitor the down trend of my psychological life. This is called the logical mind. Sometimes I am pretty amazed by how my mind works. And proud of myself.

Alright. Enough of self-pride. Sweet-talking to him obviously, theoretically, and as-matter-of-fact-ly is not working. Bungbung will eat my money again to get better. Oh well... [shaking my head]

as simple as it can be

Went around the globe.
Found myself sinking into the same kind of simplicity.
As simple as that.

She was worried that I sank into something out of my kind.
She was wrong. Because there actually is one thing shared by all the guys I've fallen for: the opposite of a father figure.
She doesn't know me. It is okay. I don't know her, either. Our friendship is like the relationship between a mailbox and a fruit stand.

He was worried that I would not have a happy marriage. Which was quite a prediction out of his little knowledge about my personal life.
Well, brother, don't you think both of us should be on the marriage-track before exchanging opinions on this issue? And I do wish he will have a happy marriage if he eventually goes into one.
I have to say that I am touched that he was worried. He doesn't know me. It is okay. I don't know him, either. The fact that we are still connected is because we deeply love our mom.

People start worrying about me because of my history, I guess. I am not flowing with expectation, am I? But I never think how I should flow. I just flow with my feelings and roll the way I feel like to, even though over the years, I have tried to use more cortical than subcortical part of my brain. You know, as a woman ages, she tends to think ahead a lot and hesitates a great deal for all possible reasons.

I have liked you since I stood on your bike.
Happy birthday, Liu.

星嫁娘

位在 Chester 的醫院真的很偏遠，遠到收聽不到我愛的爵士頻道，我就會切到CD。

我已經不常聽 CD了，雖然幫幫的 CD player 可以唱 mp3，我養成了聽收音機的習慣，不是爵士台就是美國的全國聯播網。直到最近，我去 Chester 的機會多了，I-80 往西過了 Exit 35，就聽不到我愛的電台，才轉到 CD player。

CD player 裡放著一張國語與英語歌夾雜的 mp3，很多國語歌是我大學時代的歌曲，眼前的景色是台灣看不到的秋天：滿樹的楓紅，一棵樹接著一顆樹，松鼠野鹿奔跑在唦唦撒撒的落葉上。
搭配著彭佳慧的死心眼。

啊！
小星今天要嫁了！

大二大三的時候，我的寢室裡充滿著國語流行音樂，音樂來自小星的電腦。
想當時，我是個很自負的年輕人，拔辣歌絕對賺不到我的錢，王菲、楊乃文、蔡健雅、陶吉吉的音樂才吸引我，但是我不能遮住耳朵不聽寢室裡的拔辣歌，於是彭佳慧、周蕙、梁靜茹的聲音我也不陌生。
我難相處，但是我沒有叫小星換音樂，因為她經常借我電腦上BBS。

我跟著唱死心眼，結果很難跟呢，副歌重複到不知道第幾遍的時候，我完全唱不上去。只有小星辦得到。

小星的在我眼前的轉變是女孩變女人的過程，從全年無休的黑色 T 和運動鞋，到現在粉色系娃娃裝；是鄉鎮變城市的過程，從歌仔戲天后到 KTV 裡搶麥克風。她還是有沒變的地方，湯麵太燙會等不急它涼下來就拼命加冷水，即使在我們這麼熟的朋友面前還一直戒不掉客套的 "謝謝喔" (而且要娃娃音)。

小星對我的重要性不只是讓我深夜裡掛在BBS上跟男生打情罵俏。
胚，是她開始叫的。在她出現以前，我沒有一個人人會記得住的中文名字。我的中文名字只是官方說法，認識我的人只叫我的英文名字。

忽然覺得熱淚盈眶......
啊，小星嫁了，我沒參與到......



康太太，恭喜

www.pbase.com/cckang/wedding

password:1234

十二月底再請一次酒吧 ;p

jazz bear

Tickets were sold out as we arrived at Village Vanguard.
With a disappointed mood, we walked back to West 4th and West 10th. Yes, these two streets do cross each other in Manhattan. It sounds unlikely, but it is true. When you are in the village, no matter the east or west village, the checker-board map of the city is not valid. You will be either surprised at the next corner or felt very lost in the next block.

We walked back to West 4th and West 10th. Back because that was the restaurant we'd just had dinner. We walked back there because Smalls is there.

I was hesitating. Last time when I went to Smalls, I did not quite enjoy the jazz performers that night.
But we did need to kill the time, and I hated to send Nat home after she'd spent 90 minutes on subway from deep down Brooklyn to the West Village. And I didn't feel like doing anything else.
The entrance fee to Smalls was twenty, which was thirteen more than Village Vanguard, which has much a better reputation than Smalls. I was like WTF let's do it because I need jazz tonight.
So we went in.
It was not totally packed, and we got three seats together, very close to the stage.

The 9pm band was horribly unendurable, reminding me of my marching band in high school.
I was a tenor and baritone saxophone player. I was not a musician then, and I am not and will not be one. But at least I learned how to appreciate good saxophone performance or performances of other instruments.
The 9pm band was led by a saxophone player, who did not understand that he was not making any jazz sense at all. No wonder three front vacant seats waited for us.
Besides the saxophone, the drum, guitar, and cello players' performance were like their young appearance: unexperienced. The lady next to Nat were seriously protecting her own ears with her hands.

Somehow I was not very mean, perhaps it was because I just had a good walk with an awfully romantic dance by the lake in the Park. Anyway, I didn't say let's just leave and pretend we had a super expensive meal. Rather, I said let's wait for the next set.
I am glad we waited. Twenty dollars were totally worth it for the following band: Teddy Charles Tentet.

Exactly ten but actually eleven. Perhaps twelve right after we left the club (because I had to get back to South Orange... oh I need to move to the city!). Smalls was so packed, and even more so when the tuba arrived at 11:50pm.

That is, Teddy Charles' tentet, eleventet, and twelvetet.
Ten plus one or two musicians were playing on stage.
The club is pretty small, bearing the name Smalls. I did not believe they could fit ten chairs, music instruments, and musicians in front of us. But they did.
I did not believe ten instruments would not break my ear drums or blow off the roof. But they did not. They did not overload my hearing system like the saxophone at 9pm. By them, I mean one piano, alto saxophone, tenor saxophone, baritone saxophone, baritone, trumpet, drums, cello, guitar, and vibraphone. This is ten. The eleventh was a trombone! The twelfth was a tuba!!
Can you imagine all of them fit in Smalls and deliver the legendary jazz notes?
I could not until I witnessed it with my own eyes and ears.

Teddy Charles is a short round old man. He looked extremely harmless and cute, like a teddy bear. He stood in front of the vibraphone, picked up the sticks slowly, and suddenly his hands went like fire. Fast and smooth and breathtaking. With a seriously focusing look.
I was like wow. His musician heart never ages.

now

then

Look at the picture when he was young, I could not believe that was the same person I saw in Smalls two nights ago. He is 80 years old now. Last time when he performed with ten or more musicians was 1957, according Chris Byars, the alto sax player. Why ten or more? Because that was how the music was written, how the pieces were played, how the spirit of those pieces could be expressed fully. So Teddy Charles came back playing in the old fashion.

Can you believe how many times I have used the word "believe" in this entry?

Trying to find more about his music, I came across to his website: teddy-charles.com
I realized how lucky we were to listen to him and his band last weekend because that was his last scheduled performance in the States this year! If you missed it, go to his MySpace page, and his music will immediately make every cell of your body smile.

I shaked my head a lot recently.
Things have come up unexpectedly. When things come up unexpectedly, I shake my head.
My luck has not been very good for the past one year, and I can't believe things just come up.

Spider, one of the Anansi Boys, said "Things come up. That's what things do."
Well, easy for him to say so. He is a god.
I am a human who does not quite appreciate surprises. But I have to say I am quite happy about my recent luck. Like the encounter with the jazz bear (I hope Teddy Charles doesn't mind this nickname). Like the dance by the lake. Like the messages in the fortune cookies.

a hero

Why do I share this video with you?
Because TED always introduces the contemporary best thinkers, and Philip Zimbardo is one of the greatest thinkers. After serving as an expert witness during the Abu Ghraib trials, he wrote The Lucifer Effect: Understanding How Good People Turn Evil. He showed some disturbing Abu Ghraib pictures in this talk and provided his theory on why American soldiers and any ordinary people would do such things to other human beings.
He also showed some precious clips of his controversial Stanford Prison Experiment (shortened for SPE in his presentation).

This 23-min video is worth watching, and there is a personal highlight at about the 20th minute when the audience broke the depressing air and laughed.
Here is a Chinese saying: do a good thing a day, and the good thing I do today is to spread Dr. Zimbardo's talk on being a hero. He himself is a hero.

If you can't play the video below, try click here: How ordinary people become monsters ... or heroes .