TGSR cont.

The next morning we held a funeral of sorts. I knew that black was the preferred color for a death, but the closest I could get was my dark blue shorts, black shoes and socks, and a dark brown t-shirt.

Joey was dressed in, well, if you knew Joey you would say "Joey clothes": a faded Coca-Cola t-shirt, splotchy shorts (maybe a pre-tie-die), and no shoes.

We had placed the squirrel in an old Havana cigar box, wrapped it up in blue velvet paper, and tied it with a white ribbon. Now all we had to do was lower it into the small hole we had dug beside the great big magnolia tree.

But we were stuck, frozen in time. We stood there, hands crossed, looking at the wrapped box, thinking things about death.

Access Denied

I tried to get onto the roof of my building (what would be the 19th floor) this morning, as the sun is shiny and bright. But there is a padlock on the door, and, damn it, I forgot to put my hairpin in this morning.

Here are a couple of pics taken from the 18th floor windows. No great views. I'm sadly disappointed, and, were I in America, would immediately file a lawsuit against the owners of the building for denying me my constitutionally guaranteed rights to take breathtaking views of the natural world:)

Scrumptous Breakfast

Discounted fish, 3 kinds of kimchi, and . . . ok, I admit it, I put the parsley there just for the pic (though I did eat some of it). Sue me.

TGSR cont.

One early summer morning, the kind where it's still a bit cool but you can feel the heat simmering up for the rest of the day, Joey got out of bed (so he told me afterward) cause he heard his dog making a fearsome noise. He looked out his bedroom window and saw Buster, his ugly mutt of a dog, tearing into something.

Joey hurriedly put on some shorts and shoes and rushed outside to see what was the matter. By that time I was there too, since only the slowest of creatures is slower than Joey on a summer morning.

We both yelled at Buster--his black hair all a-bristling--to back off, but it took a kick or two before he released the furry thing he had in his mouth. By then it was too late. The thing, a mess of bloody squirrel fur, was dead.

Now, don't get me wrong here. We weren't two sissy kinda boys who thought that every single thing should be kept alive and that people should eat plants and such. No, back in those days there was no questions: men--even boys--ate meat.

And while we would often go on long walks with Buster and urge him to chase some varmint just for the hell of it, a cornered animal--at least a defenceless one--was a different thing altogether.

So we shouted, Joey kicked Buster, the dog dropped the squirrel, and the squirrel lay there, dead. We, dog and all, were panting from the excitement, even though we had been lollying about in dreams not ten minutes before. And there it was, dead. That kinda shook Joey and me, for Buster never used to catch things before. Maybe this time he had just gotten lucky.

The Great Squirrel Race, Part 1 (fiction)

Did I ever tell you about the Great Squirrel Race? No? Well, it happened a long, long time ago, when I was a young lad.

It was when Joey--my best friend--and I were bored one hot summer day.

Now, you might think that Joey, since he was so small and his clothes so poor-looking, was of no account, but he was the best friend a boy could have and sharp as a whip at that. Why, I remember the time . . . but, then, I'm getting ahead of myself, as I always seem to do, and here I was going to tell you about squirrels.

Joey and I both had pet squirrels. It wasn't so uncommon at the time, since our folks--well, our pa's--shot so many big squirrels out of the trees. See, there was a powerful need for food at that time, so any living thing that was running around had better look out. Squirrels especially.

They were so abundant that it seemed like you could should one, eat 'em the same night, and the next day another would appear in its place. Boy, the Lord sure do work in mysterious ways sometimes!

Anyway, since all them squirrels done got shot (and eaten), there were naturally lots of baby squirrels left around.

Chiro Man

I took the subway into Seoul today (Itaewon) to go to the chiropractor. "The", yes; a modest net search turned up only one, an English-speaking, American-educated man who heads a sport clinic. I'm mixed on the visit, but am positive enough to have signed up for more. I think it will do my back some good. Too early for more comment, however.

While I was there I went to the bookstore (What the Book) and grabbed used copies of Truman Capote's Summer Crossing and Orson Scott Card's Shadow Puppets.

Next I hit the international food store (a few steps down from WtB) and picked up some dried cheese tortellini for me and a Cadbury's chocolate candy bar for my school receptionist.

Then on to my favorite burger joint--well, the only true American burger I have found in Seoul. I posted a pic a while back. All-American Diner in Itaewon. Great every time. (W10,000.)

Took the subway back toward home, but got off a few stops early to go shopping at HomePlus. I give enough money to E-mart that I sometimes want a different supermarket shopping experience, and HomePlus is less crowded. They also have some different western foods.

Taxied back from there. Quite productive for half a Saturday.

What's for Breakfast?

I often eat salad for lunch, but, perhaps because I am going into Seoul today (and a hamburger is on the menu), I had a desire for a nice big, fresh salad for breakfast. Threw on some canned tuna for good measure and a side of kimchi. Odd boy that I may be, it was quite satisfying at 5:30 in the morning.