Mike Myers did a strange and hilarious movie in 1993 called, So I Married an Axe Murderer. He played a lovelorn version of himself as well as his updated former SNL character: a Scottish soccer hooligan father. One of the best lines in that movie is a small rant before dinner. “Well, it’s a well known fact, Sonny Jim, that there’s a secret society of the five wealthiest people in the world, known as The Pentavirate, who run everything in the world, including the newspapers, and meet tri-annually at a secret country mansion in Colorado, known as ‘The Meadows.’” Continue reading
life
About Life, Death and Falling Felines
Living on Earth is hard on the heart. We see things, feel things and hear things that can hurt us, hurt our soul, hurt the everlasting spirit that we know is inside of us and has been in and of this galaxy in many forms and shapes since time immemorial. We cannot avoid the pain; we cannot avoid the love, the moments of bliss or the moments of terror. We are cursed and blessed with the gift of consciousness. Continue reading
A Return Home to Return Home
Living in a foreign country can have many feelings. There can be, in any conceivable array, a multitudinous collision of emotions: boredom, freedom, homesickness, love, lust, excitement, desire, longing, scorn, derision, insight, resonance, horror, humor, confusion, or wonder. Some days, anywhere or for anyone, are better than others. Some days are really transcendent. Continue reading
Meeting People
I went to see a comedian I had never heard of until three weeks ago. But in Seoul, American entertainers are a rare occurrence and it seemed like a good idea to get some comedy after the past few six-day workweeks. I researched Tom Rhodes on the interwebs and found a documentary he had made over 15 years ago. He had long Robert Plant hair, black boots, and a 90’s attitude wandering through Vietnam 30 years after his father had left the country serving as a helicopter pilot in the war. Continue reading
Hiking Seoraksan (with a nightlight)
A crowd of friendly white people gathering outside the 8th exit of Seoul’s largest bus station waiting for a bus to drive us to Korea’s most popular hiking mountain, discussing small talk trying not to dive right into the triumvirate of expat questions. 1) Where are you from? 2) How long have you been here? 3) Where and what age do you teach? It’s not that these are bad questions; they are great questions and give a good bit of information about the person. But as go the inevitable, information gathering questions of global backpacking, these questions, if you are around the person long enough, may be answered through normal conversation or gleaned through accents and story settings. Continue reading
Religion, Death and 9/11
“Morgan Freeman died,” my co-teacher whispered to me in a hushed tone befitting the situation. A famous, beloved actor, who has brought many of us cinephiles great joy, had passed away. Continue reading
You Never Get a Second Chance.
Missouri football coach, Gary Pinkel, said he believes it’s “wrong” to place sole blame on Joe Paterno for the colossal clusterf#$% that has happened at Pennsylvania State University. He believes Joe would act differently if he could; that if he could “do it all over again” he would have acted differently and done more. Unfortunately, nobody gets that option. Continue reading
Music: of the People, by the People, and for the People
Did you ever wish you could go back to the first time you heard a song? Back to where you were when “Thong Song” blasted out of your friend’s convertible one crazy midsummer night, or any of the wonderfully great rap songs of the 90’s that helped define summers. What about the first time you heard “November Rain” or “Sweet Child O’ Mine” ripping your eardrums open without ever thinking of turning it down. 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
William Sabia 