Fat, Lazy, and Stupid

What better way to spend a vacation?American Tour Phase 1 - Florida, May 20-28

I'm back in Hong Kong and still struggling mightily to make sense of both the trip and its aftermath. Some things, though, are self-evident.

Like the re-inflation of my midsection...

I wouldn't say I gained 10-15 pounds. I'd say I smuggled a sh*tload of ice cream, buffalo wings, and other assorted American junk food home with me, wrapped around my abdomen.

Or I  could say I added 10-15 pounds of American citizenship.

Does this vacation make my @ss look big?

F#$% it, that's what vacations are for: eating too much and exercising too little. Or, in my case, not at all.

Besides, the first two days back I went to the gym, so kiss my (freshly fattened) @ss.

I went to Florida to visit family. Otherwise you'd need a court order.

Or Eva Mendes' address, but never mind.

============================================Ugly American Incident # 1: While boarding the flight from Seoul to Chicago, I struck up a conversation with a young American soldier returning home. I was lucky enough to get an exit seat, and since we were some of the first people on the plane, he sat next to me until, as he said, the person who had that seat showed up. When the person did, the young soldier joked with the man that he would sit there instead and the man needed to find other accommodations. I know he was only kidding, but I didn't find it funny in the least. Neither did the man who was the butt of the joke, and not because he didn't speak English. Luckily, the soldier quickly saw that his joke had failed miserably and he went back to his own seat.

I guess what bugged me most was the kid's apparent willingness to assume that his humor (and English) would be understood and appreciated. I also know that South Koreans are becoming increasingly resentful of the American military presence there (though probably not these last couple of weeks...), and part of that resentment springs from the misbehavior/idiocy of off-duty servicemen in Korea.

Like I said, I know he meant well, but I didn't much care for the guilt by association, especially since I had to sit next to the victim for the next 13 hours.

=================================During the flight I watched a lot of movies, including The Wrestler(Mickey Rourke in a role that is eerily autobigraphical by default), Cadillac Records (an incredible film with a ton of great acting, esp. by Jeffrey Wright and Mos Def), and Lawrence of Arabia(because a 3 1/2 hour movie is very doable when you've got 10 more to spare). It was weird watching the ultimate big screen film on a tiny monitor. But I enjoyed it. If I watched anything else, it wasn't worth mentioning or remembering.

The Korean Air service was very good, and I enjoyed my Korean dinner a lot. Which is saying something, since I am generally not a fan of Korean food.

We landed in Chicago without fanfare and I was once again in the Land of the Free and Home of the Big Mac. Luckily, the Immigrations and Customs people were very nice this time. 

It may have helped that I wore a shirt that didn't allow anyone to see the tattoo at the base of my neck.

I also tried to be cheerful and smile, which, while patently facetious and very likely visibly so, may have also helped.

So I didn't get arrested. Which is always nice. Made the transition from O'Hare to Midway airports, which was interesting, given the fact that my jet-lag addled brain kept screaming " WHAT THE F@#$???" in my ear while I tried to concentrate.

But I made it to Midway and got prepared to make the transition from Korean Air to Southworst Airlines, where you, your flight, and your luggage can go f@#$ yourself anywhere in America for less than any other airline.

The plane was late, but that meant that my layover in Tampa was nonexistent, for which I was grateful. I'm not sure what it is about Tampa airport, but every time I land there, it's... interesting. Once we came down so hard the flight attendant across from me got scared.

This time was no different. It was as though the pilot just said "Ahhh, f@#$ this," and dropped us sideways onto the runway. I literally felt the plane bounce, twist, bounce, and land.

Maybe it was the jet lag, or maybe I was just being me when I called out "Welcome to Kandahar forward operations base. Please pardon the evasive action..."

So I had no layover in Tampa, which was good since that landing nearly made me sh*t myself and I didn't want to stink up the terminal.

Then again, it's f@#$ingTampa...

The flight to Snort Liquordale (Fort Lauderdale, to those of you born after the 1980s) was brief enough, and I found myself back in South Florida. 

I was met by my mother at the airport. She  lives in a quiet gated community in Deerfield Beach.

Which is good for her, since she's chronically on house arrest. She babysits, does hair, andsells weed out of the same house; the cops don't know whento kick the door in...If she steps out that door, the home confinement alarm on her ankle goes off.There's a pond behind her house with fish in it that laugh at my feeble attempts to catch them. That's okay with me, because its less work for me.With jet lag, I kept waking up at or before dawn. But I could read and fish in peace, and that's what I was after. I liked that.My presence in my mother's house meant that it was not its usual pristine self:My mother made me promise to say that it's never this messy when I'm not around.My mother alternated between telling me she was glad to see me and yelling at me about how much of a "f@#$ing disaster area" I made her house and how I never cleaned my room when I was little and obviously had yet to learn to do so."Clean this sh*t up, my probation officer is coming!"I got to visit my nephews as well, and they're growing like weeds. I'd show you pictures but my sister never sends me any.

Then again, she doesn't introduce me to her friends either. I mean when I'm standingnext to her . It's either the camouflage shorts or the PhD, near as I can tell.I gave Timmy, my 3rd nephew, the 7-11 guitar.Because I hated my face in this photo, that's why.He really liked it, and I hope he drives my sister insane sideways with it.  Because that's what you're supposedto do with a guitar when you're 12.I didn't take any pictures myself since my sister and my mother seemed to have that covered.I know my mother took pictures of me with my nephews, but she's still working out the vagaries of attaching photos to emails, among other computer mysteries.

She apparently has no problem downloading naked photos of Julio Iglesias, however. Word to the wise: don't goanywhere on your parents' computer that you don't have to. The horror, the horror...

All I really remember about Florida is shopping, eating, reading, and eating. I got to hang out with my nephews singly and in groups, and now that they're older, they're easier for me to deal with.

Oh, the other thing I remember most clearly was watching my mother watch the NHL playoffs. If the Chicago Blackhawks knew that there was a [censored]-year-old woman bellowing at them loudly and repeatedly to "beat those Godd@mn Red Wings," they might have prevailed.

I was just glad my mother survived these viewings, because she'd get pretty agitated, and I had nightmare visions of having to deliver a eulogy that tried vainly to explain why my mother's last words before that fatal heart attack were "That c*cksucker was off sides!!!"Oedipus schmoedipus, love ya, Mom!