Video Blog Update

12/27/09










12/28/09








12/29/09

Bon Voyage

TAM - Asian edition.  The life of outsider in his own native land.

As many of you have heard (or not depending how closely you keep up with my facebook updates), I'll be in Asia for the next month.  I'll be going with my two partners in crime and my new toy, a flip ultra hd camcorder.  Depending on available internet access, uncensored raw footage of our shenanigans will be broadcasted through this blog with my running commentary.  Warning: This will not be a journey of self-discovery.  TAM does not believe in any of that emo crap.  It will not be a trip to expand my horizons.  TAM has already seen it all on the discovery channel.  This trip is for one thing and one thing only.  For three guys to tear shit up on the other side of the Pacific!

The shit hits the fan tonight at midnight when I board China Airlines Flight #3. Stay tuned for what will surely be an odyssey of epic proportions.

TAM out!

TAP That!

A lot of people often dream about owning a time machine. To be able to go into your past and correct mistakes or make better decisions armed with knowledge from the future is a much sought after ability. After all, they say hindsight is 20/20. But more so than reliving your past, I believe that the draw of owning a time machine is looking to the future and seeing what lies ahead. With the endless possibilities of life, I would love to see what route I take and whether or not I'm happy with the choices I make. In the second entry of the TAMMIE series (Typical Asian Male Mutual Interest Enterprise) we have the opportunity to peek into the not too distant future of TAM. Where will I be a couple years down the line? Well ladies and gentlemen, to answer that question, I give you TAP. Brian is my alum from Beta Alpha Psi and is a couple years my senior. Where I am, he's been. Where he is, I hope to be. He has his own blog (www.xanga.com/chumeister) and graciously offered to write a guest entry for me. The following is a sneak peek into what could be the next step for TAM (maybe).
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I have a sinking feeling that when I someday have kids, I'm going to be a typical Asian parent (a.k.a. a TAP). I'm fighting so hard against it, but somehow I just know that at some point, my Asian parenting gene will kick in and I'll start sending my kids off to violin practice, tennis lessons, and ballet classes. They'll learn to do multiplication by five, algebra by ten, and heaven forbid they be unable to take a first derivative by the time they hit puberty. And all the while, I'll be kicking myself for turning into the kind of dad that I don't want to be. The one that watches his son pick up a Playskool golf club at 10 months, and suddenly sees the next Tiger Woods in front of him. Nevermind the fact that the only thing that was probably going through my son's mind at the time was, "Oh, look at the pretty multicolored stick!" The next thing you know, it's personal training sessions with a golf coach that specializes with two-year olds, hours at golf courses practicing driving and putting, and entries into youth tournaments before they've lost their first baby teeth.

I like to believe that I'm trying to do my kids some good. And that they'll "thank me later". In Malcolm Gladwell's latest book, Outliers, he describes something known as the 10,000 hour rule. Essentially, he states that in order to become an expert at anything, it requires 10,000 hours of deliberate practice. Outside of maybe sleeping, eating, and watching TV, I can't imagine having spent 10,000 hours doing anything. And yet, to truly be world-class at anything, that's exactly what it takes. So maybe it's too late for me to become a world-famous chess player. And maybe my NBA aspirations should be put on hold. But if I want my kids to reach that point, then I have to push them. Right?

Yet a part of me feels conflicted over becoming the type of parent who hires foreign language tutors for their children before they turn three. After all, there's something to be said for the simple pleasure of enjoying childhood. The truly ironic part is that my parents, God bless them, were never the pushy type. Sure they wanted to see all of their kids succeed. But when my sister wanted to stop playing the piano at 12, they never pressed the issue. And when I chose to watch Animaniacs over taking Chinese lessons in the afternoons, they were amenable, if not openly supportive. But there are also times, especially as I struggle to communicate with my relatives in Mandarin, that I wish they had pushed me a bit more. Forced me to drag myself out of bed for Chinese school on Saturday mornings so I could learn to say more than, "The book belongs to Mr. Lee" or "I would like the Chicken Fried Rice, please." Not that I blame my parents for my own laziness. It's not like I was particularly thrilled to study when more entertaining options were available to me. And my argument of “Why would I ever need to learn Chinese? I live in AMERICA!” seemed reasonable at the time. In my defense, who would have expected China to go from Communist home of cheap labor and goods into Economic Superpower in less than two decades?

I think my compromise will be to cultivate talents that my kids show an interest in, rather than forcing them to do things that I think would be “best for them”. Admittedly, that’s not an easy task. Even as a kid, I went from wanting to be an astronaut, to a CEO, to a basketball player to a fireman in a span of roughly 10 minutes. So I can appreciate the difficulties of trying to determine what a child truly shows a passion for and what is just a passing fancy. Yet kids still need assistance to help them develop the talents that they do possess. Their talents and passions won’t simply progress through dumb luck.

But at the same time, I truly appreciate the fact that my parents let me spend my childhood being a kid, rather than a vicarious vessel for them to pour their own hopes and dreams into. So I’ll do my best to be a “good” dad. One that nurtures my child’s predisposed talents and creates opportunities for them to succeed. But if their talents aren’t what I expected, that’s fine. Or if they aren’t particularly “gifted” at anything, that’s okay as well. I don’t need my daughter to be the next Marie Curie. Just as long as she’s not the next Amy Winehouse.

It's all a Con

Ever since I was small, I've had an obsession with 007. I've seen every Bond movie to date. I've looked up to his humor, his cunning, his fighting expertise, his charisma, and his ability to 'get the girl'. 007 is a jack of all trades and a master of infiltration. He can manipulate the situation using his innate knowledge and quick wits to turn the tide on any criminal mastermind. With a bit of luck and ingenuity, he can topple entire evil organizations within the span of a few short hours. This always amazed me as a child. More than his slew of gadgets and exotic cars. More than the harem of broken hearts he left in his wake. It was his skill in controlling others' perception of him that won him my lifelong admiration. But now I realize that it's not all that hard. In fact, we see it happen everywhere, all the time. I'm talking of course about the way women use makeup, accessories, clothes, and 'trickery' to make themselves look hot. The extent of the change varies from girl to girl but whenever I see a girl take off her makeup it always reminds me of that scene from Mission Impossible. The scene where the old guy takes off his face to reveal Tom Cruise underneath. Except in the movie, the mask is uglier than the face...

The average guy is very visual. We're not the brightest creatures on the planet so what we see plays a huge part in how we feel. Knowing this, a multi-billion dollar fashion and cosmetic industry has cropped up and been built around how to get a girl to look more appealing to men. The number of steps involved to achieve this is absolutely ridiculous. It's akin to the Navy Seals suiting up for a black op. The average time it takes me to get ready for a night out? 10 minutes (shower included). The average time it takes most girls? 2 hours. As one of the privileged few (boyfriend status for 5 years), I earned a backstage pass to the rodeo that is "Vegas club prepping" so let me drop some knowledge and expose what I like to call, Operation Gaga.

Girls have 5 major areas where they apply makeup to elicit that 'second look' from a guy. From top down, they are:

The hair. This encompasses the day to day routine on top of the game day prep. The daily regimen includes conditioners ($20 conditioners like Biolage), leave-in conditioners, hair treatments, hair-dyes, anti-frizz, shine serum, and brushing (typically 100 times a night). Game day prep is even more extensive. Girls use all sorts of add-ons in addition to the traditional hairspray, mousse, volumizers, blow-dryers, straighteners, and curling irons. There are Bump-its, hair extensions, hair pieces, and even straight up wigs to top off their look.

The eyes. Personally, I feel like this is where the biggest change occurs. It might be because eyes are my favorite feature on a girl's face, but I feel that having pretty eyes is critical. Subtle changes make a huge difference. There are so many cheats and hacks that I can't name them all but I'll try to cover a few and highlight the ones I think are the most interesting. Besides the typical eyeliner, mascara, eye shadow, and eye lash curlers there's a whole slew of 'advanced' techniques available to make their eyes pop. In what I dubbed 'the war room' (the girl's bathroom in a Vegas hotel), I've seen fake eyelashes, double eyelid tape (some sort of adhesive that gives you double eyelids for the night), color contacts, black lenses (they make your pupils appear larger and supposedly make guys more attracted to you), and stickers. Yes, stickers. To this day, I still don't understand why girls put those damn star stickers at the corners of their eyes. They make you look like a cartoon character. See video. 'Sailor Moon Transformation'.

The skin. This includes the moisturizers, facials, face masks, and billions of other products that are available to clean, cleanse, exfoliate, balance, soften, hydrate, replenish, and revitalize. I'm all for the natural, glossy sheen of healthy skin, but it's when the girls put on foundation, cover-up, powder, blush, concealer, bronzer, and that damn glitter that things turn sour. If I touch your cheek and you can't feel it, that's a deal breaker. I hate it when girls cake that stuff on and end up looking like a Korean mom.

The boobs. This is definitely an area of great importance. And along with its throne at the top of the male visual hierarchy, it comes with the ability to make the most drastic changes. While makeup as a whole typically follows the theme of subtlety (for the most part), bras are on the opposite end of the spectrum. This is where Asian girls shine. With all the wonder bras, push up bras, padded bras, water bras, silicon inserts, gel inserts, and breast reshapers, they can work wonders with their cleavage. There's even a technique where they gather up fat around their chest and back and push it into their bra to achieve a natural addition to their boobage (don't ask how I figured this one out...) Needless to say, the typical Asian male is usually sorely disappointed when it comes time to unhook that clasp.

The poses. Last but not least, we have the way girls carry themselves. They wear high heels to naturally stretch out their calves to make them appear slimmer. They pose with their elbow out and their hand at their waist to make their arms look slimmer as well. And of course, every girl knows exactly which side and how to angle their face in pictures so that they look the hottest. Exhibit A

It's almost unfair how much girls have at their disposal to look hot. And if all else fails, you still have the abnormally large sunglasses. Those huge Old Navy Grandma shades are the modern day equivalent of a paper bag. They cover half your face! Guys on the other hand are an open book. We bare ourselves for the world to see, unimpeded by the least bit of trickery. We don't have any shortcuts or backdoors (don't be dirty). If we want to look better, all we can do is go on a diet and hit the gym. Girls... what you see is what you get. When the sun sets, we're still Shrek. But Princess Fiona on the other hand...

The Greatest Equalizer

There are a great many things in life that have leveled the playing field between men. Public education, golf handicaps, Shaq Vs., and what some have called "The Great Equalizer", Samuel Colt's six round revolver. These things all have one thing in common. They strip men of their strengths and leave them to compete in one area and one area alone. However, in a recent turn of events, I discovered an even greater equalizer. One that strips men of all strength and even saps their very desire to compete. For the last couple days I've been experiencing this equalizer first hand. The common cold. I've been sick at home, miserable. My entire body ached. I had a fever of 103⁰... and my head felt bigger than the size of my ego. Being sick sucked.

It saps all your strength and leaves you whimpering under your covers. It reduces you to a blubbering four year old and you end up curled up in the fetal position all day, crying for help. In my fever-induced hallucinogenic state, I distinctly remember calling out for my mom as I tossed and turned. I called out for her, my step-mom, my roommate, Eliot from Scrubs, and during an especially horrific hot flash, the blessed Virgin Mary. At the very height of my misery, I was begging for someone, anyone... to come rub my back and reassure me that it's physically impossible to cough up a lung.

Being sick is disgusting. Your body starts morphing into the monsters from Aliens. You cough up that toxic green, acid phlegm. You start making weird noises. Grunts, hacking coughs, retching, and your voice turns raspy. Your vision blurs, your body is constantly sweating, and you cringe at direct sunlight. If I'm sick for longer than two weeks, my transformation will be complete and you should send for the Predator to put me out of my misery.

Looking back at these tumultuous 48 hours, I realize that when I get sick, I get really sick. And I don't get sick very often so I feel like when I do, it's the biggest and baddest buggers that get to me. I've read magazine articles saying that women deal with sickness better than men, and that men over exaggerate their symptoms. Wholly untrue! (at least for me). That may be the case for married men or guys in committed relationships who use sickness as an excuse to be pampered and cared for (pansies), but as a man standing alone, unattached and unencumbered by nagging spouses, I have no reason to exaggerate or fake symptoms for empathy. I have no one around to make me soup, buy me medicine, cook for me, feed me, tuck me in.. hug me.. hold me... tell me everything's gonna be alright.... Damn, being sick when your alone really sucks.

It's actually quite a humbling experience. It was the first time I've been sick since my break up a year ago and the first time that I really missed being in a relationship. Not back with the ex mind you, but just having someone around that you can depend on. Being strong and independent all the time gets tiring. I'm sure even Atlas loved it when Hercules stopped by and they passed the ball around. But at the same time I learned something about myself. I learned that I can stand strong in the face of adversity. That at a time when I felt I was down and out for the count, I was able to pull myself up by the bootstraps... and make a damn good chicken soup from scratch. Not to shabby for the typical Asian male. Chicken soup for the jaded and lovelorn soul!