rock and roll pilgrimage

I was in the UK last week and had the opportunity to spend a Saturday in London. Abbey Road Studios was, of course, my first stop. Checking this off my bucket list. More to come from London...

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dinobots for my hands

Don't have very much time to expound on this, but I've never made it through a holiday season since I began using the internets without poking around eBay for these guys:

• Grimlock
• Slag
• Snarl
• Swoop
• Sludge

It's time to stop searching and actually do some receiving/buying/stealing. Coincidentally, my very first blog post had a Transformers reference. I am, if nothing else, a consistent bloke. Why are they categorized in apparel? Because I'm going to wear these guys on my hands.

Thanks for stopping by.

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camper industrial boots for my barking dogs

Editor's note: There are times when Blogger doesn't do what I want it to do. For instance, this ridiculously large and ugly font. Shame on you Blogspot, please find this post and rectify it.

After a day of rest (decreed by the good Lord), I'm back to continue our countdown to a shiny and material Christmas.

What else could perfectly complement my business trip to the UK this week than to pamper my feet with a pair of British-made boots?

I'm generally not a fan of shoe laces, so the Camper Industrial ankle boots just barely make the grade. But I'm a fan of the urban nature of this pair; they offer a grittiness not found in some of Camper's more whimsical lines.

I hope I don't run into a Camper store in London.

Thanks for stopping by.

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burberry check skinny tie(s) for my neck

More gift ideas.

Burberry ties are nothing new. I actually pilfered one on eBay for a cool $35 a couple of years ago (yes, it's a genuine make). But I only recently discovered that Burberry offers a chic line of skinny ties. It's a desirable marriage of their traditional branding and contemporary styling. Who knows when skinny ties will go by the wayside again - it's taken decades to make its triumphant return, but these ties in particular may be able to stand the test of time and endure the wrong side of the cycle when we devolve back to its thick, clumsy and evil twin brother.

For the wintry months, I prefer these bolder, darker colors. And then for the warmer seasons, great to follow up with some of the lighter pastels, including the ubiquitous tartan pattern (but keep it thin). And when I say "prefer" I really mean "plan to buy".

There are some nay-sayers out there who might tell you that a $150 tie is a ridiculous amount to pay for an accessory with no functionality. I have no rebuttal; they are right. But if wearing a Burberry skinny tie is wrong, I just never want to be right.

Thanks for stopping by.

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victorinox montreal wallet (swiss army) for my bottom

Christmas gift idea #3. Now, I want to make one thing clear while I spend the better part of this month sharing cool guy accessories. I'm going to own all of these specific items at some point, so don't actually go buy it for somebody who is not a principle contributor of this blog. That's just bad form and entirely unoriginal.

These ideas are meant to be purely inspirational.

Anyway, during my recent visit to Munich Germany, I had a layover in Zurich, Switzerland and couldn't get over how cool the Swiss logo/emblem/insignia is. Even their passports are awesome. So I instantly became an ardent fan of Victorinox (Swiss Army), not to be confused with Wenger, and I'd like to get my hands on just about everything that carries its beautiful emblem.

Thus, I was excited to find that they have an ultra-slim wallet in their Altius 2.0 Collection - the Montreal. The price is very reasonable, and I love how minimalistic it is.

There are only two types of guys in the world - hoarders who collect all kinds of business cards and receipts into their ever-growing wallets and minimalists who aim to have a wallet as thin as possible. There was even a Seinfeld episode that covered this dichotomy. I'm part of the latter fraternity, and one of my life's passions is to continue to reduce my wallet size - until it's invisible and we can all just scan our thumbs for identification and purchasing needs.

But my thumb doesn't have a Swiss logo on it. Shame.

I hear that the Montreal makes for an excellent birthday gift (especially when one's birthday is relatively soon after the Christmas holidays and it doesn't make sense to buy consecutive gifts that empty the checking account).

Thanks for stopping by.

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oakley kitchen sink backpack

My season's greetings to you continues. Now I'm wondering if I can get through 24 ridiculously frivolous gift ideas right up until our Lord's birth. Should be fun.

Being the (ahem, international) road warrior that I am, I've been really enamored with Oakley's Kitchen Sink backpack since I saw it in an in-flight Delta magazine a few months ago.

While the bag offers a ton of components, I don't think most of us need anything so complex. Its utility is lost in its own usefulness. That doesn't make any sense, and I just confused myself. But that's what makes this bag so fresh; backpacks aren't supposed to be confusing - until NOW.

I mean, look at this thing. It looks more like a weapon than anything else. The bag also appears heavier than anything you might actually store inside of it.

How can you want anything else after digesting these notable features:

The KITCHEN SINKBACKPACK offers every conceivable innovation, from a mobile phone pocket to a padded sleeve that holds a laptop up to 17". The top storage compartment is compression molded to protect eyewear — or use it for a media player and take advantage of the headphone port. Cable zipper pulls let you add a lock to secure the main compartment. The mid-body access flap includes an inner organizer, and a compartment at the bottom has drainage ports for wet or soiled items. You also get plenty of pockets, attachment points and tie downs.

It's a pretty steep price tag for a backpack, but there are some online retailers that offer it for much less than Oakley.

Thanks for stopping by. Why am I so ridiculous?

One random thought du jour: All of these image URLs that I'm posting on my blog, these items or websites will one day be discontinued, and all I'll have to look at are some ugly boxes with a red 'X'. I should think about downloading all of these for posterity.

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timepieces for my wrist

Wow, it's already December. You know what that means, right? Its time to start daydreaming about all of those toys that you've accumulated on your wish list over the course of the calendar year. Am I right? (I'm certainly not wrong)...

Recently, I've grown more infatuated with watches. I stand corrected - I've developed a deeper appreciation for timepieces.

This isn't necessarily a new development - Emmelle has been observant enough over the course of our relationship to recognize my affinity for these useful accessories and has graciously gifted me with a beautiful battery-operated, large-faced Ted Baker watch and a digital Adidas watch (so I could time runners) in the past.

I had gone relatively quiet on the watch front until a recent window shopping venture led us to a luxury watch store. I marveled at the beautifully crafted pieces on display but balked at the alarming prices - all of these particular pieces ranged from $1,500 - $15,000 (and I'm sure there were more expensive watches that I missed or simply ignored because my subconscious rejected them). Before we left, one of the sales associates noticed that I was staring at the IWC display. Before I had a chance to kindly decline, she rested a $15K piece on my left wrist. In that instant, I straightened my posture and stood taller, I felt my face grow more handsome than it normally is (crazy right?!), I just simply felt better as a person. The IWC time piece, from their Portugese collection, appeared right at home on my wrist. I felt sad for her as she was placed back into the display case. I'll save you!

Why watches? Well, for one thing, they are a tantalizing feast to the eyes, so pleasing to look at. I also appreciate the precision and fastidious care that goes into constructing each intricate piece. You may not know this, but Swiss-made watches and Emmelle are comparable in their accuracy and precision. Wearing a fine watch is akin to wearing Emmelle on my wrist.

Since that fateful meeting with the IWC piece, I've spent several hours combing various Swiss makers' websites in search of an attractive and affordable timepiece with automatic movement. I also tried on a great looking Mont Blanc chronograph, but again, priced too high for a relatively new time piece aficionado such as myself. Unfortunately, one can only stare at ridiculously high price tags for so long before growing numb to four and five digit price points.

In a more recent trip to the mall, I had to convince myself not to pick up a $400+ watch to "tide me over" while continuing the search with Emmelle for a nicer piece that's suited for this soon-to-be-married man about town. This after I had just had a conversation with Super Dano about not being able to ever justify a watch purchase greater than $500. Silly, naive me.

Oh, one more excellent bit of related news. Coincidentally, Emmelle and I have been recently discussing the possibility of augmenting our honeymoon in France with a short stay in Switzerland. I hope she likes watch museums. She's the best.

Ties and watches. My two (material) loves, along with a bunch of other stuff. I'm just a simple boy who covets fine craftsmanship waiting for those finely crafted items to be given to me. Thanks for stopping by.

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south korea (part 9 of 9)

Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5 | Day 6 | Day 7 | Day 8 | Day 9

South Korea 2010: A day by day retrospective

I'm never doing this again.

Day 9; the end.

I'm sitting on the plane. I'm tired.

My uncle's two kids keep me up until 5am on the previous night. I vaguely remember what we discussed, but I do recall making a conscious decision to stay awake for as long as I could. Who knows when I will see them again? Both of them share their respective love interests at school. Cute but I am having a hard time keeping up. I try to be the cool older cousin but alcohol and the heat are too much. I shut my eyes for seemingly ten minutes and my aunt is waking me up to eat breakfast. I feel the sort of tiredness in which you can feel a heavy pressure against your ears and heads, as if there is a massive weight being pressed against you. But I'm thinking more about saying goodbye and departing back to California later in the day. I wish Emmelle was here. I wish I had a camera to relay pictures of my one night in Daejeon for my parents and grandmother.

I'm tired and readjust myself awkwardly in my seat and doze off. I wake in time for our first meal. I'm frustrated. The in-flight movie selection is identical to our departing flight. There is nothing to watch to pass the time. But drowsiness envelops me once more. Before I relinquish myself to sleep, still frames of the past week-and-a-half appear before me. I mentally sift through them like the folder contents of a touchscreen device.

JJa JJang myun delivery. It is in Korea what apple pie is in America. It's kitschy, but we were looking forward to the delivery experience the entire time and saved it for our last meal. The delivery man comes to the front door on his tiny motor bike (more like a large scooter than anything else) and carries his magical metal delivery case to the front gate. He slides open the side of the case and a billow of steam emerges and quickly vanishes, unveiling the delicious contents inside. We devour our meals although we aren't hungry. Emmelle's nephew it seems has grown fond of us. He cancels an item off of his list to hang out this one last time with us. Its these small moments that I'm always afraid of losing. Its our last moment in Seoul.

I only awake for a few minutes at a time. I'm able to sleep through a bulk of the flight. But in between, I continue to think about my conversation with my uncle earlier in the morning. I'm melancholy - not so much gloomy or depressed, but more pensive and introspective.

After breakfast, my uncle drives me to the train station which will get me back to Seoul. It's about a 20 - 25 minute ride, and we fill that time easily with anecdotal conversation. Once we arrive at the station, my uncle leaves the car and tells me that he'd like to spend a few minutes with me before I have to depart.

We sit in the parking lot, and he lights a cigarette. I notice a sign near us that explains how to properly dispose one's cigarette butts. I'm not sure exactly why, but I immediately think about how long it took my dad to understand sign like this in the US. I ask my uncle why he didn't come to the US like the rest of his siblings. He tells me that he worked in Saudi Arabia when he was younger, prior to marriage, and didn't want the hardships of immigrant life based on what he had already experienced.

I explain that I feel that life would have been much easier for my parents had they never left. My uncle tells me that my dad is - what I would translate as - unique. He is a unique individual that couldn't be beholden to a white collar or corporate job. He needed a change. I wonder in my head if this is my uncle trying to sugar coat the situation for me or if this is his younger brother persona that is once again, revealing itself. But I quickly understand that he's not trying to protect me from anything. He says that he honestly doesn't know if it was a good or bad decision that my parents emigrated. There isn't an answer. And he implores me not to think about it; it's a moot point.

However, I can't shake the thought, because it's precisely him, my uncle, that triggers the thought more than anything or anyone else. In him, I see a version of my dad that I rarely see - youthful. Physically, they are very similar in appearance. Very similar. Yet, his eyes aren't tired; his shoulders aren't burdened. He is not an immigrant; I am convinced this is the major distinguishing force. Physically, he is my dad without having to perpetually sling this albatross across his back.

We say our goodbyes. I beg him for the last time to come out to our wedding in May. I can't wait to see him again. I need to see him with my dad, for them to interact as brothers. For my dad to regain that piece of his being that makes him so proud and so alive. It's the best possible ending to this trip.

I'm swollen. I awake one final time before our descent. My feet and ankles are solid stiff and bulbous. Emmelle doesn't seem concerned but I'm having a mini panic attack. I'm pretty certain that blood vessels in my legs will pop and my feet will explode. This feeling keeps me captive until we land.

We're back.

Thanks for stopping by.

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south korea (part 8 of 9)

Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5 | Day 6 | Day 7 | Day 8 | Day 9

South Korea 2010: A day by day retrospective

I'm at the finish line. I don't have many words left in me...

Day 8; whoops, I screwed up.

I'm pretty sure Emmelle and I went to check out some of the famous palaces during Day 7, specifically Gyeongbokgung Palace. I could talk about some of its history, but that would be boring. All I know is that the Japanese destroyed it multiple times; you'd think my smart people would have erected something more secure after the first invasion, but hey, who am I to judge? It's quite beautiful.

So what exactly did we do during the eighth day of our trip?

I'm not exactly sure. I recall walking around many neighborhoods in the oppressive heat and having my one male-PMS meltdown during our vacation. Everyone is preemptively sanctioned one per trip, aren't they? Sorry, Emmelle. I also distinctly recall battling my camera time and time again. Things picked up later in the afternoon when we ate jja jjang myun (black bean paste noodles - sounds delicious in English, I know) for the first time during our stay and met up with Emmelle's aunt to pick up our hanboks.

Afterwards, for the first time during our vacation, Emmelle and I parted ways. For Emmelle, she was going to have another feast with her family. I took the subway to Seoul Station where I met my cousin to take an express train to Daejeon to visit my dad's lone sibling in the country.

I had a memorable time with my dad's side of the family, even having the opportunity to eat hongeo (fermented skate fish). Skip to 3:10 of this Andrew Zimmern Bizzare Foods clip to see what I'm talking about. Its served with a variety of accoutrements to mask the pungent ammonia-like taste and smell of the fish. When in rome...I had a couple of pieces without anything else, and while it's not the most pleasant thing to eat, it is edible and entirely unique. I'm glad I got to try it. I'm not glad that I was burping ammonia on the return flight to California the next day.

But my dad's uncle, the third son in the family and closest in age to my dad. I've heard many tales of how he would always follow my dad around. He still speaks very fondly of him and asks about him in a deferential way. He also resembles my dad physically. My favorite uncle. Cute kids now both in college, home for summer vacation. Clean, peaceful home in a safe community. It's a small glimpse into what life may have been like had my parents not made the decision to emigrate to the United States. All these thoughts are a bit disparate and disjointed, but I can't piece it together cohesively in a satisfactory way. At the end of the day, I'm grateful that I was able to spend some time with my family and awfully embarrassed I intended not to see them due to the brevity of the trip.

Shame on me.

....

I knew there would be some errors in my recollection; I shouldn't have waited so long to conclude my thoughts on this experience. Ask this pretty lady what else I messed up.

Thanks for stopping by.

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south korea (part 7 of 9)

Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5 | Day 6 | Day 7 | Day 8 | Day 9

South Korea 2010: A day by day retrospective

It's the last third of these posts. Home stretch. And here...we...go...

Day 7; my mom's side

Emmelle and I spent the morning and early afternoon wandering around various districts of Seoul. This was really our chance to buy gifts more than anything else. While our bodies had adjusted to the time zone, we still were not fully comfortable with the oppressive heat and humidity. As I understand it, we had really lucked out with the overcast skies during our entire trip. The 90 degree+ weather and 500% humidity was actually a true gift. I had given up trying to stay dry a couple of days ago , but the real concern now was the chaffing between my inner thighs. Now, I'm not quite the young buck I once was, and over the years, my body has collected pockets of fat here and there. My sticky thighs were rubbing against each other with every painful stride that I took; the heaviest lotion applications only did so much. Travel tip #1 in the future: stick to boxer briefs.

Additionally, we were meeting my mom's side of the family for dinner. I was nervous. I was just grouchy in general.

My mom's side. My mom is the only member of her family, which includes five siblings, who left Korea. The distance between us engendered a perception in my head that they were my mom's family, and not my own. Prior to this trip, I hadn't seen any of her siblings or my cousins in over twenty years. I distinctly remember one instance while we were staying with my dad's side of the family, and refused to visit my mom's side. Embarrassing and hurtful.

I was very concerned with what we would talk about but recognized that my visit wasn't about me. I was representing my mom and her life by proxy and also introducing them to Emmelle. At least there would be some canned topics to discuss. And looking back now, I realize in that moment, I had completely ignored the unique bond that exists with family, regardless of how little you know each other. Or it could be the case that I really don't have experience with it as an adult. They are my family. To state it more accurately, they are still my mom's family, but it holds the exact connotation it did when I was a child. There is an innate desire as I grow older to be able to touch and feel my parents' lives - present, and particularly past. Whomever my mom loves, I love them.

My aunt met us at a nearby bus station, and we walked to my uncle's work/house. She is as I remembered, just a little wider in her face and waist. She is reminiscent of my mom, but harder eyes and calloused expression. She is tough, a bull. She pointed occasionally to various streets and buildings, remarking about what we used to do here and there, where my mom used to play. I had no idea my mom's side of the family has lived in the same neighborhood for 50 some years (at least). On top of that, I had no idea, my parents first lived here when they got married. And I was born here.

My uncle owns an auto body shop called Oasis, that he runs with his family. His wife does a lot of the administrative and book keeping work (I think), and his two kids, son and daughter, pretty much run the place. The older son is the same age as me, and I wish we had more time to talk, to hang out. My aunt's poor scheduling didn't allow for them to come to dinner with us. But we picked up a couple of street snacks (soon-dae, dduk booki) and had drinks in their home after work hours. While we exchanged stories, I was conscious of how much I was smiling. Not because I was trying to, but because it was so easy and natural. I don't think that there are that many moments in life when all that you want to do is smile, in a genuine way. There's always something to say, something to do. But not in this moment. I just had to smile.

Thanks for stopping by.

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south korea (part 6 of 9)

Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5 | Day 6 | Day 7 | Day 8 | Day 9

South Korea 2010: A day by day retrospective

Day 6; Humbled by Messi

Day 6 can really be summed up by two events - getting measured and choosing colors and garments for our wedding hamboks and the game 2 clash with Argentina with good pal SMP. In between, we shared meals with family members, and my Nikon D60 decided to shut down for the night.

I've been fiddling with Picasa's collage feature (I hadn't noticed it until a few days ago), and it's really making these pictorial summaries much easier to share. Terrific. The shots below are from a famous garment district in Seoul. Emmelle's aunt already had a relationship with this particular clothier, and the mom-and-pop shop did a pretty solid job in helping us select our colors. I had a good time there, and it really made me want to spend another couple of hours with some of the suit tailors in the building as well. Oh well, no time to direct them to help craft a fine womanly cut for me. These luscious silk fabrics would have to suffice:

After the hambok adventure, we had lunch with another one of Emmelle's aunts, a welcoming combination of kal gook soo (a flour-based noodle and starchy broth dish) and tasty bo ssam (steamed pork and some other fixings). For dinner, one of my younger cousins who I hadn't seen in nearly a decade, met us for ddak kalbi (chicken ribs) near her university.

On to game two.

We walked through busy city hall where billions of Koreans were gathering for the critical match. After the convincing win against Greece, the Korean media had been running report after report of how the national squad could pull off the stunning upset against one of the top teams in the tournament (and best player Messi). And everyone bought into it. The country was delusional. I, on the other hand, was incredibly upset with the fact that we couldn't take any pictures of the World Cup frenzy. Of all that we did and experienced, for me, it's the coolest part of our trip. To be there during the World Cup. I can only imagine what it was like in 2002 when Korea co-hosted. Five months later, I still regret my camera's betrayal.

Emmelle and I watched the first half on the streets (2-1 Argentina advantage) and caught the rest of the match at a restaurant/bar in SMP's office building. Argentina tacked on a couple of more goals. At the final whistle, I watched a man in the bar slouch over on his seat, completely crestfallen. That's how I felt. No pictures of this cool night. After some catch-up conversation with SMP, we went back upstairs and were astonished that the streets were nearly completely empty. Wow. Imagine if we were here for a win.

We'll save that one for four years from now.

Thanks for stopping by.

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my friend sriracha

This is how I feel most of the time when I'm eating a meal:

I just can't get enough of that cock sauce. Neither can you. Thanks for stopping by.

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nikon d60 is back

My brain is filling up with a lot of different entry ideas, content that I'd like to make sure I record for future reading. And I've got a trusty tool back to help tell those stories.

I am excited to announce that my coveted Nikon D60 is back in my life...just a cool $160 out of my pocket to replace broken/missing part(s). Why the vagueness of the issue? Because I have no idea what happened myself. I UPS'ed the damn thing to Nikon and they reached out with a price quote via email. No explanation. But I'm happy to have it again and start snapping away.

And now, I'll be storing my new photos on a new work laptop - the Dell Latitude E6410. Why do I mention this? I'm simply curious as to the technologies that we'll be using in years to come. Will we laugh at the prehistoric gadgets that I'm referring to in this post? Will all of our digital consumption and usage evolve into virtual sphere?

Some fine questions to ponder on what is turning into a sunny, idyllic November afternoon in San Francisco.

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south korea (part 5 of 9)

Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5 | Day 6 | Day 7 | Day 8 | Day 9

South Korea 2010: A day by day retrospective

It's 2am on Saturday (Sunday). I can't sleep. I'm feeling a little punchy.

Day 5; Back to Seoul

The image on the right, beautiful isn't it? It's at the eastern tip of Jeju Island and is called "seongsan ilchulbong".

I was delighted to learn that our tour bus would take us to this special destination. I anticipated seeing a beautiful green mound of land mass unlike anything we've witnessed previously. We heard that the true gem of this place is to be here to catch the morning sunrise. Our schedule didn't accommodate, and I had no avoiding a dawn wake up. We arrived around 10am, and even at that early hour, the island air was thick and humid. This made the 20 minute required climb up to the top a bit undesirable, especially for the teenagers in our group wearing jeans that day (they were absolutely miserable when we all returned and met at the base of the peak).

The climb was not arduous but sweat-inducing and uncomfortable. The narrow walkway was crowded with tourists moving up and down the path. I felt a little anxious as the morning fog had settled in around us and created fairly minimal visibility.

And worse, my Nikon D60 started flipping out. That's entirely inaccurate; it wasn't doing anything. Nothing happened when I flipped the "ON" switch. Issue with altitude? Humidity? Too much volcanic radiation? My panic subsided in moments when the gadget would actually come to life. "Just a temporary issue," I assured myself. It would all be worth it however. Emmelle and I were about to behold something truly majestic.

This is what we saw:

Hhmmmmmmmmmmmmmm. Looks like I could have taken this anywhere. I was really tempted to put some thought bubbles or cover my handsome face with an angry emoticon on this photo because really, I wasn't feeling like Seongsan Ilchulbong deserved a smile from yours truly.

To top it off, we learned that the famed haenyo were swimming very close to our bus. What's the fun in travel if there aren't any slight setbacks and missed opportunities? I'm being a little too critical of the island; I've been scouring through some blogs and various pictures on Google. It really does look like some of the locations are charming and tropical. I blame our tour bus. Or tour buses in general. Wait, but I blame the island for my camera. My broken camera, we must go back to the island to make it right! (That's a little topical humor - I am watching Lost Season 6).

The Jeju-doh detour of our Korea sprint finally came to a close. Now, it was back to Seoul to stay with Emmelle's aunt and uncle. I'd met them once before when they visited California last year, and I can't say enough about how hospitable they were during the nights that we stayed with them. Wonderful people. I'm excited to see them again in May for our wedding.

Emmelle's cousin picked us up from a bus station near their home, and we drove immediately to dinner. What a feast! I can easily say that I ate the best duck and pig's feet (or is it pigs' feet? Is your order of porcine hooves sourced from the same pig? Doubtful...) I've ever had, and this meal really set off a handful of days of massive carb and sodium intake. This is why we went in the first place.

Thanks for stopping by.

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