“In my younger and more vulnerable years” my mother used to read me a book called: Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day. Paraphrasing, it was about some punk kid who was having trouble tying his shoes, got gum in his hair, got yelled at by the teacher, his sister took his favorite lunchbox to school, he didn’t get a toy in the cereal box and perhaps some other little kid problems. At the end, I think he got a hug from his mom, and everything was better because tomorrow is another day is Australia or something. Continue reading
Life
The Sounds of Music
The Sound of Music, a whimsical musical which belies the serious undertones of the Nazi takeover of Austria, features songs by Rodgers and Hammerstein, came out in 1965 at the moment of America escalating the Vietnam War. It is a war movie, despite the happiness of its songs. It is magical, it is fantastic, and it is a classic. And I never saw it until I was 30 years old. Continue reading
Zombies and Nazis
The rash of cannibalistic murders and attacks in the past week has led to much talk of a coming zombie apocalypse (it is 2012 after all). Zombies, the walking dead, that make such great antagonists in silly horror movies, are fascinating to us living humans. There is no doubt of what action to take when confronted with a zombie—kill them. Continue reading
One Year–Two Jobs
Once a year in Korea, the students give presents to their teacher’s in honor of their tireless struggle to enlighten and educate the young minds of the future. In my kindergarten and elementary hagwon, I got a few notes and a few little presents, nothing like Christmas, but still satisfying. Even if the students were forced to give gifts by their parents, it is nice to receive things handwritten in childish script. Ones that say: “You are handsome and strong,” “I will work harder for you,” “Thank you for being a great teacher,” and the classic, “I love you.” Continue reading
What’s My Age Again?
For years, I’ve always looked younger than my age. I suppose at 12 I may have looked twelve, but after that, I was always mistaken for a younger version of myself. Once, around 27, a local campaigning politician came to the door of my parents’ house and asked for my mother or father. I replied they were out, and she asked me if I was old enough to vote. Continue reading
Facebook Famous
It seems with the rise to mainstream prominence of Facebook and Twitter; we see much more hyperbole in the day-to-day life of normal citizens. We often read about, “best weekend ever”, “best friends forever”, “greatest night in the history of Fort Lauderdale”, “most hilarious thing ever”, “this is amazing” et al. I believe this is not always even believed by the people who write it, but perhaps to make others believe that the author was involved in something so great, so stupendous, that not only must others hear of it, in turn feel jealous of it, but know, that since it was “the best girlfriends in the world partying in Miami for the weekend” that no one can ever top that wonderful moment. Continue reading
Dualism of Life
In the hot and cold waters in the sauna, I contemplated what I had learned from last week’s hike. The man and woman, the day and night, the sick and healthy, the weak and strong, attractive and ugly, rich and poor, tall and short, I had found the two sides of it all. Continue reading
First Grade Moments
Today, my favorite student (any teacher will be honest and tell you they have a favorite) shocked me again. Olivia is the happiest little lark I’ve ever met. She is about 5 or 6 years old, never frowns and has a bright round face with a perfectly infectious smile. She used to call me over to her table, “Teacher, teacher, come here.” She’d motion with her hand as if she had a secret to tell and look at her feet trying to remember why she’d called me over. Continue reading
Super Monday?
Super Sunday is a party day in America complete with gathering friends, extensive dip selections, cursing at the TV, watery beer, and the inevitable disappointment. The disappointment for me comes knowing it’s seven months until football season again, sometimes disappointment in a boring, lopsided game, and for others it is the disappointment of being the supporter of a losing team. For the lucky few who support the winning team, it is pure exhilaration of bragging rights for the whole year (despite having done nothing to contribute to the winning cause except second guess every 3rd down play and pretend to support the time they went for it on 4th and goal). As we know, all games need to have a loser (except in that rather excessively gentlemanly game of European football, where draws leave a sour yet satisfactory flavor in the mouth of its fans). Continue reading
Not So Fast
Sand falls through the hourglass in the incessant, inevitable march of our collective moments. The sand represents only the quantity of time. Memories provide the qualitative quotient expressing our tenuous grasp while drifting among the currents. Nobody needs to be told, “Life is short.” Continue reading
William Sabia 