my sardine can in Seoul

I've waited way too long to tell you guys about this.

Miss H and I returned from Hong Kong on August 7. On August 10, she decided to quit her job. She gave a month's notice at work, packed up all her stuff, and flew home with our black cat Charlie. She's now living in a two-bedroom, two-bath apartment in Henderson, Nevada, and working two or three jobs to be able to afford it until I get there. 

In the meantime, yours truly had to move out of that lovely three-bedroom apartment near Daecheong Station in Gangnam-gu (from which I used to take all those lovely walks by the Yangjae Stream, remember?). With the help of a website geared specifically toward foreigners, I located and moved into a tiny little oneroomtel in Gwangjin-gu, close to Sejong University, where I work.

What's a "oneroomtel"? 

This: 

www.habang.co.kr

...basically a closet with a bathroom. Oneroomtels are a nicer and slightly larger version of your basic goshiwon, which is just a room, a bed, and a desk. Mostly they're used by students who need to sequester themselves somewhere quiet and peaceful to study for exams, or by older men who've recently lost their jobs or gotten divorces. Either way, goshiwons are at best a temporary state of affairs. Technically I'm not supposed to be living in one; that's just nuts. The cabin fever will drive you insane. I'll be here four months in total, from early September to early January, at ₩400,000 (approximately $370) per month. 

It's not so bad. I jokingly call it my "sardine can," but it's actually quite livable. Having an en suite bathroom is nice. And I've made the place as cozy as possible, with soft bedding, an electric fan, a calendar on the wall, snacks and drinks in the mini-fridge, and so forth. The Internet sucks, so the room really comes in handy as a distraction-free writing zone. And I'm getting out of this monk's cell as much as possible. I take long walks by the Jungnang Stream now (which runs north of the Han River, not south like the old Yangjae did). I'm within walking distance of Itaewon now—nine kilometers—so I walk there and back sometimes. It's how I discovered a delicious burger joint in Oksu, in fact. I walk south or east across the bridges and into Gangnam-gu or Songpa-gu or Gangdong-gu, or I go west into Seongdong-gu and Dongdaemun-gu, or I go north into Jungnang-gu. 

Why so much walking, and so far? Exercise. I sold my bike. It was getting old and rattly and I figured I'd better let it go. So now my only way to exercise is to walk, and I figure the longer and farther I walk, the healthier I'll be (and the less time I'm spending in my sardine can). I've been living like this for two months, and I have two months left. This is the halfway point. I've seen more of this city in those sixty days than I did the previous three years, and uncovered many of its hidden gems. 

Postie out. 

Gangnam, Mongolia, and the Grand Canyon

It's the witching hour here in Seoul, and it's time for some updates. This blog's been clogged (see what I did there?) with my Japan junket and The Art of Manliness challenge I took in January. Time to give you the skinny on the others facets of my life.

THE BIG MOVE TO GANGNAM
Miss H and I started packing tonight. The bookshelf is completely empty, the dresser (which we use for miscellaneous storage, cramming all of our clothes into our wardrobes) is 80% done, and the games drawer has been packed up. The entirety of the kitchen, the wardrobes, the veranda and the bathroom remain, however. Both of us are remembering how much we hate packing. 

But I'm getting ahead of myself. Why are we moving to Gangnam? Well, Miss H was justifiably discontent with her job here in Gwangnaru, so she elected to switch jobs at the completion of her contract in late February. The new job she found was with Gangnam SLP, in Gangnam-gu. Gu, if you'll recall, is a word roughly analogous to "borough" or "district" or "ward" in English. Seoul has 25 of these gu. We live in Gwangnaru, which is located in Gwangjang-dong, a neighborhood of Gwangjin-gu, widely regarded to be the city's most multifarious ward. Now, however, we'll be moving to Gangnam-gu, which is noticeably larger and more oblong than Gwangjin-gu. As far as I can tell, Miss H's school and our apartment are located at the extreme southern edge, in the neighborhood of Irwon-dong near Daecheong Station on Seoul Metro Line 3. The boonies, as it were. Go any farther south and you're not in Seoul anymore, Toto. We will, however, be deliciously close to the glitzy Gangnam Boulevard, and the attractive neighborhood of Sinnonhyeon beyond—the same place I bought a copy of Kafka's Metamorphosis and read it in one go while sitting in a coffee shop in the Urban Hive, remember? There's also Yangjae Citizen's Forest, which I already know and love (and am planning some kick-ass summer barbecues around). We're right next door to Jamsil, with its humongous (albeit undergoing renovations) COEX Mall, and the Jamsil Sports Complex where all the best baseball games are played. It'll be a cinch to slide over to ritzy Apgujeong or across the river to Ttukseom Resort, too. Location, location, location. 

But first we gotta move there. So we're packing. We move in on the 1st of March. We're not using a moving service with a Kia Bongo like we did last time. He showed up at our old place in Bucheon at 8:00 at night and by the time we were all moved in to the new place in Gwangnaru it was midnight. We want to make it quick and easy this time. So I'll be obtaining a temporary international driver's license and renting a car. Preferably an SUV or at least a crossover—something with some cargo space. Then I'll drive our stuff to the new apartment in Irwon-dong myself. It'll be the first time I've ever driven Korea, or any foreign country for that matter. I'm heading to the DLA (Driver's License Authority) in Mapo-gu tomorrow to obtain a temporary license. I may have to take a test. Wish me luck. 

SPRING SEMESTER AT SEJONG UNIVERSITY
The pre-semester staff meeting is February 24th. I like my new schedule: on Mondays and Fridays I start at 11 and have two classes, finishing up at one o'clock. Tuesdays and Thursdays are the heavy days: 9:00 a.m. - 5:20 p.m., with a few breaks here and there. On Wednesdays, like usual, I have no class at all. I have a new type of class this time around: a combined reading/listening class that affords me some degree of freedom with resources and materials. I'm very much looking forward to selecting the best passages and audio clips to give the students the most effective (and fun) time possible. My commute will be longer, of course, but finding out the quickest way from Irwon-dong to the university (which is in the Neung-dong neighborhood of Gwangjin-gu) is going to be an adventure. 

What I'm not looking forward to, though, is getting my visa extended. This is always a hassle. It requires an entire day, a ton of paperwork, and a great honking trip into Yangcheon-gu in West Seoul to the main immigration office—and that's if everything goes smoothly. If the immigration officer decides that he needs to see some extraneous document that wasn't included on the official list, he can do so—and send you away until you acquire it. Sometimes one must make two or three trips to immigration to get everything sorted. That's the other thing I'm doing tomorrow besides hitting the DLA: renewing my visa. I called immigration twice and asked them the same question: what documents do I need? The answers tally, and I think I've got everything prepared. Let's hope I only need to make one trip. 

FLYING
Nothing doing. I'm in Korea, remember? Though I have figured out what I'll do about flight training when I return to the States. It looks like Miss H and I might wind up in Las Vegas, Nevada, when all is said and done. That's assuming we find jobs and cheap housing, but this locale is the most likely spot we've run across. Imagining that all goes as planned, we'll be living in Vegas, Miss H will be doing social work, and I'll be doing radio and bartending. On the side, I'll be working toward my commercial pilot's license. Once I get that (plus a few other ratings like high-performance and multi-engine and perhaps even instrument) I'll start applying to the companies that do flight-seeing tours over the Grand Canyon. I'd kill to fly a de Havilland Canada DHC-6 Twin Otter over that humongous scar in the earth. 

BOOZE
When was the last cocktail review I did? Halloween, probably. Things went nuts toward the end of the fall semester last year, and then the holidays hit, and then January was taken up with that challenge, and early February was my trip to Hokkaido. So...yeah. No booze. I'll probably restart my review schedule sometime in late March. Gotta wait for the dust to settle from the Big Move and the Spring Semester. 

On the home-brew front, the boys and I just bought a huge bulk order of malt extracts and yeasts and hops which we can play around with. But we'll get to that in a few weeks. For now we're just enjoying the amazing American pale ale we brewed up in December. We've discovered that adding an extra little bit of priming sugar to the brew just before bottling creates the perfect amount of carbonation. There's no fixing the sediment problem (not without secondary fermentation, which none of us have been brave/industrious enough to try yet), so all we have to fix now is the color and clarity. Oh, and the flavor. The last two batches have been spot-on, though, so I have high hopes for our next brew: a maple porter, my pick. I'm scanning the Interwebs for a suitable partial extract recipe. Let me know if you have any suggestions, dear readers. 

And speaking of reading...

READING
I hung up The Great Shark Hunt (Hunter S. Thompson). I'll keep it and read it later and put it up on the shelf and it'll look all groovy and sophisticated to passersby. I have other fish to fry, though. During the long train journey down through Japan I finished reading Paul Theroux's Ghost Train to the Eastern Star and The Terror by Dan Simmons. Good reads both, though I found Simmons's work a bit more stimulating (probably for this reason). I'm almost to Part Four of Anna Karenina, and have finally begun to enjoy it. Tolstoy knows a lot about human beings and can describe what he knows simply and clearly. After I finish this weighty volume I reckon it's either Robinson Crusoe or The Catcher in the Rye next. I need to get back into fiction badly.

And speaking of getting back into fiction...

WRITING
Still no word from Ace & Roc Science Fiction and Fantasy about my novel manuscript. I sent it to them, did I tell you? (I told Facebook, but I don't know if I've told you.) I sent them a query e-mail with the first ten pages of my manuscript copied-and-pasted into the body, as per their submission guidelines. Ace & Roc are imprints of Penguin Books, in case you were wondering. I chose them because I read somewhere that Cormac McCarthy sent his first novel (The Orchard Keeper) to Random House because it was the only publisher he had heard of. And they published it. Miracles do happen. I'm holding out for mine. I submitted the e-mail on January 29th, and Penguin's website warned me that manuscript queries can take up to five months to garner a response. So I'm waiting and praying and shopping for agents, just to be on the safe side.

On the writing front, Novel #3 is a chapter and a half from being done. There's a lot of edits to do but I'll mow 'em down fast. Novel #4 is still where I left it when my computer died last November. I must revisit it soon. I'm also going to crank out some more short fiction just as soon as the heat from the Big Move and the Spring Semester blows over. I'm slogging through Mugunghwa (my old NaNoWriMo project from two years ago) and making adjustments, corrections and clarifications to that as well. It should be ready to go by spring. I'm not sure whether to e-publish it or send it to an agent, but I'm mulling the question over. 

I really need to get some more pipe tobacco. I should do the whole mulling thing properly.

TRAVEL PLANS
Well, I've done Japan, Korea and China. That's the extent of my Asian travels. Bit paltry for almost three years, right? So it's time to up the ante. Miss J, Miss H and I have been talking about Mongolia. Buddha's Birthday and Children's Day are right next to each other on the first weekend of May this year. That means there's a four-day weekend coming up in mid-spring. Flights are cheap. Perfect time to hit the steppes, we reckon. We're thinking a nice hotel in Ulaanbaatar, a ride on a Bactrian camel, a traditional meal with a Mongolian family in their private yurt, watching the Kazakh falconers do their thing, a pony roundup on the open steppes and a bite of the finest Mongolian cuisine. I'll let you know as events develop. I'm still planning on Alaska this summer, and would love to do a train trip through Argentina and Chile if finances allow. Stay tuned. 

LIFE IN GENERAL 
I haven't been to the gym in weeks. In fact, I'm about to head down there and cancel our membership, and see if there's any sort of refund possible. Miss H and I didn't realize when we signed up in October that we'd miss a full third of our six-month subscription to Art Gym when her contract expired. If they won't give us a refund, then we've forfeited ₩80,000 apiece. Darn. At least we know now how much of a time commitment we're making when we sign up with a gym. 

The winter weather in Seoul remains pleasantly mild, with temperatures hovering around the low 40s and nary a snowball or an icicle in sight. The yellow dust from China, however, is kicking into gear. I'd love to be walking around in the open air and taking in my last views of scenic Gwangjin-gu, but there's a jaundiced scum in the air and it irritates my lungs and throat something fierce. I can't be bothered to wear a mask, either. So screw it. I'll stay inside and play the Facebook version of Deer Hunter 2014. 

SCI-FI ART
I haven't given you any of that in a while, either. And since every blog post (no matter how small) needs a picture, I give you this doozy. Make of it what you will: 

30 Days to a Better Man, Day 26: take the Marine Corps fitness test

[pant, pant]

Well, I'm back.

[whew]

I took the test and the results are in. I now know precisely how out of shape I am. The only bright side to this humiliation is that I knew it was coming. I scrolled down through the list of challenges back in early January just to see what I was in for, and I saw this one and groaned. Physical fitness is, bar none, the area in which I am the least manly. I'm a flabby, wheezing blob. The last time I was in decent shape was when I was thirteen and in the High Desert Youth Soccer League.

I've always hated physical exertion. Some people get high on it, but I despise it. Even playing sports is barely tolerable for me. I am an imaginative fellow, an intellectual and bookish daydreamer, and to me there's nothing more monotonous (both mentally and physically) than putting my muscles, heart and lungs through their paces. I've heard a lot of runners and bicyclists claim that they get into "the zone," let their mind wander and get all calm and meditative and blabbity blabbity blah. Not me, no sir. To me it's just torture. Moreover, I'm an Epicurean and a hedonist. I love food and booze. But the better it tastes the more unhealthy it is. (Korean food is a notable exception to this, which is why I was able to drop 20 pounds in 2008-2009 by eating Korean and taking long walks by the Gohyeon River. I've since gained it all back.)

I know that this is no excuse for being out of shape, but I'm just explaining my position.

Okay. Ready for a good laugh? The maximum score on the Marine Corps fitness test is 300. To attain this score, you have to do at least 20 pull-ups (without a time limit), 100 crunches (in two minutes or less), and run three miles in 18 minutes.

My score was 70. 

A measly 70 points. 

Good grief.

Here were the final figures: 

• pull-ups: nearly 1
• crunches: 70 (guess where all of my points came from?)
• 3-mile run: 47 minutes

I'd previously marked out a five-kilometer (3.1-mile) course near my apartment, along the riverside jogging paths in Hangang Park: Gwangnaru Station to Gangbyeon Station, then across the Jamsil Railway Bridge, then back upstream to the foot of the Gwangjin Bridge. I'd never run it before today, however, and that might have been my undoing. I'd been doing all my training at the gym, and those dang treadmills must have been lying to me, because according to their little digital readouts I can do five kilometers in 40 minutes flat. But for some reason it took me nearly 50 today. Maybe I didn't mark it out properly, I don't know.

The other mistake I made was to do the pull-ups (well, pull-up, singular) first. Humiliation is not the best feeling to have when you're starting a 3-mile run. Needless to say, I was feeling mighty low by the time I got back to the apartment. The crunches helped bolster my self-esteem a little bit, but then I went on The Art of Manliness's Day 26 page and discovered that I'd run so slowly and was so pathetic at pull-ups that I hadn't even scored a single point. My score came solely from my crunches, and that's it.

Whoof. Where's the whiskey?

Oh well. A real man shakes humiliation off and tries harder. I still intend to be able to run three miles in 18 minutes someday (and by "someday" I mean sometime this year). I'm going to have to try a lot harder though. It looked to me like I was running my head off this afternoon, but I didn't even score. Sheesh. Pathetic. In the shape I am now, I can do 0.6 kilometers nonstop (barely 0.37 miles).

Baby steps, baby steps.

Jog on back for Day 27.

30 Days to a Better Man, Day 24: play!

All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy, right? Especially if Jack's a writer.

All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull b--

I should probably stop before you get freaked out.

Anyway, today's challenge is to play. Thirty minutes of pure, unadulterated fun time. Yes, I know that's not really specific. But that's the point. There are many different types of "play." You can do anything you want, as long as it isn't video games. I really like what the AoM article says. "Keep in mind that some of the best play involves novelty, curiosity, and most of all, exploration, whether of the limits of your body, new physical locations, or the corners of your mind." You should stretch a point and do something creative. Build a model, go bouldering, shoot pool, ride your bike, challenge your buddies to a pick-up game of basketball, bust out that jigsaw puzzle, go exploring, whatevs. You just have to make sure that you're doing it for no other reason than fun. The point of the activity is the activity itself. It's time to let go of all those manly responsibilities and have some fun. 

I kind of wish I'd done this challenge in summer. It's hard to get into the mood to play when it's cloudy, slushy, and drippy outside. I have a quick errand to run at Sejong University and then I'm a free man after lunch. I have this whole wide city to play in and I can't decide what to do. I really want to do something outside this jail cell of an apartment, I know that much. I had originally planned to hop a train down to Suwon and see Hwaseong Fortress, but it'd look so dreary in this weather.

Okay.

I have an idea.

I'll pick a section of Seoul I haven't properly explored yet and go explore it. Yeouido Island might be a likely place to start. It's a big island that sticks out from the southern shore of the Han River. "Island" is a liberal term; only a tiny, muddy, meter-wide strip of water separates it from the rest of the peninsula. I've been there a few times before; I really love the park this time of year, and the 63 Building is pricey but has one of the best views of Seoul. I've never taken the time to stroll around and see anything else, though, particularly the National Assembly. I won't go in for the guided tour (you must make reservations three days in advance), but I can at least see the façade, the visitor's center and the extensive lawns out front. It's been a while since I went exploring for exploring's sake. I'll find myself a little mom-and-pop shop afterward and snack on gimbap, ramyeon or bibimbap, and then sit in a coffee shop with a view of the river and read Paul Theroux's Ghost Train to the Eastern Star. Sounds like a nice play-day.

Play along for Day 25.

30 Days to a Better Man, Day 22: improve your posture

I kind of cheated with this one. After I finished Day One's post, I clicked through the rest of them just to see what they were all about. Forethought never hurts, you know. As I was reading through today's article, a startling fact jumped out me: my gut could be partially due to my bad posture!

That was something I'd never suspected before. I should have realized it, of course. Just as women's innards are rearranged by a tight corset, men's guts are squished by their rib cages whenever they hunch over. Fancy that. I've been trying to ditch this gut for ages, and by slouching I was working against myself the whole time.

Well, no more. I've been subtly working on my posture all through the past three weeks of this challenge. I stand straight enough, but my sitting posture is atrocious. I've made a conscious effort to sit up straighter, or "sit at attention" as AoM explains. (And I've been making a heartier effort at the gym, too, for obvious reasons. Between that and sitting straighter, I'll have this beer gut licked in 2014, hell or high water.)

Today being the actual day of the challenge, I was more conscientious. I actually performed the tests which AoM recommends in the article. I did the "wall test" to see if my standing posture was good, and it was. The only bad habit I have while standing is to suck in my gut, which will probably give me hypertension at some point. 

Sitting was more challenging. My couch doesn't lend itself to leaving a "hollow" in the small of my back, and I often became tired. But I stuck to it. I'm going to keep at it when the spring semester begins and I'm at my desk for long periods. I didn't do the "string" test that the article suggests, because I have a feeling my gut would interfere with it. But I don't need no string to tell me to sit up straight.

Ouch. Ouch ouch ouch.

This sucks.

This might be the worst challenge yet.

Can't a man slouch if he wants to?!

Stand tall for Day 23...   

30 Days to a Better Man, Day 21: write your own eulogy

Read the article before you do anything else. It explains how today's challenge isn't really as morbid as it sounds. What better way to understand that your life is finite and that you need to get off your duff and live it than writing your own eulogy? Facing your mortality will give you greater cause to live each day with purpose. 

In fact, writing my own eulogy gave me almost too much perspective. Knowing that life is fleeting and temporary made me wonder about all those hours I've been spending at the gym. Surely I could be out in the fresh air or sampling the finest wines and foods instead of breathing recirculated air, grunting and sweating. One of the reasons I've never managed to stick with any exercise regimen is that I always get the creeping sense that I'm wasting my time. The two hours I spend lifting weights and jogging on a treadmill could be used in so many more constructive ways: writing short stories, planning novel plot lines, researching historical epochs, learning Korean, exploring Seoul, etc, etc. I always get the feeling that I'm using up an insane amount of my precious lifespan doing something that's of no material benefit. 

Not true, of course. Working out is healthy. And I don't mean to insinuate that I actually would use those extra two hours constructively if I stopped going to the gym. But hey, I never said my mind was logical. I just said that I found it hard to stick with exercise plans because my mind started working against me.

Anyway. Here's my eulogy: 

Andrew Post was a wanderer from the beginning. He was born in 1986 in Auburn, California, but didn't stay there very long. He called many places home during his youth: southern Ohio, rural Tennessee, urban Virginia, the California desert, the plains of Wyoming. As a small boy he kept his nose glued to the airplane windows, looking at the big world going by beneath him and vowing that he would see it all someday. 

It was this same intrepidity which drew him to North Dakota State University, far from his home in Southern California. (That, and the lack of an admission deadline.) He felt that a career in zoology was his ticket to travel and adventure. After a bad run-in with advanced chemistry, however, he switched his major to communication, graduating in 2007 with a degree in journalism and broadcasting and an English minor. If he couldn't study the big wide world of mountains, trees, animals and people, he figured he would write about it instead. 

A nationwide job market slump forced Andrew to seek his fortunes abroad. He spent four nonconsecutive years as an expatriate English teacher in South Korea, two as a professor at Sejong University in Seoul. During this time, he became an avid blogger, sold travel articles to online magazines and wrote several historical and science fiction novels. Despite his journalistic pursuits, it had always been Andrew's intention to be a writer. His debut novel Revival won him fame and fortune when it was published in 2016. He'd sent one of the first drafts to me a few months earlier. I remember critiquing it harshly and telling him flat-out that it was crap. "Thanks," he said. "Now I know I need to do better." And he did. He told me afterward that the greatest accomplishment of his life, besides finding a woman who was willing to reproduce with him, was winning the Nebula Award for Best Novel that same year. 

In August of 2013, Andrew proposed to his long-time girlfriend at Tokyo Disneyland. He would always say, "It was the smartest thing I ever did, asking that woman to marry me." The two wed upon their return from South Korea in 2015 and had three beautiful children, Zebulon, Aurora and Gilbert. Though Andrew was often far from home on one globetrotting adventure or another, he always made sure to be there for his children, for birthdays and Christmases, triumphs and tragedies. He raised his kids to be independent, forthright and principled people who pursued their dreams without fear or compunction. 

Anyone who met Andrew knew that his list of hobbies and interests was a long one. He was an energetic auto-didact and read whatever he could find about history, astronomy, technology, and the natural sciences. On the fiction front, he adored adventure tales, notably science fiction but occasionally dipping into fantasy and mainstream fiction as well. He loved aviation, becoming a pilot at the age of 24 and flying throughout his life. He took a great interest in classic and vintage cocktails, mixing and sampling as many as he could and even inventing a few of his own. The cocktail bar he ran out of his first apartment in South Korea was legendary among the expatriate community. Shooting was another hobby of his, and whenever he was able he'd get a group of friends together and head to the range. He was happiest after a long day of trapshooting, off-roading, flying, or hiking, sitting in a comfortable chair within view of a good sunset, a glass of Scotch in his hand and a lit pipe between his teeth. His greatest love, however, was travel. There were very few countries that Andrew didn't want to see, and he spent a lifetime traveling all over the world and writing about it in his journals. He sent me many postcards and pictures from the road. The best of these was the one I got in the winter of 2023. It was a photo of Andy standing in front of the statue of the Virgin Mary on San Cristóbal Hill in Santiago, Chile. He'd scrawled a message to me on the back: "This town is great! I might just retire here." In his lifetime he set foot on all seven continents and explored over sixty countries. He told me once that if there was a single place on his bucket list that he missed, he'd die a regretful man. I think he managed to avoid that unpleasant scenario. He and his wife retired to Santiago in 2046, just before Andy's 60th birthday. He opened a bar and spent the last two decades of his life plying thirsty Chileans and expatriates with delicious drinks and regaling them with tales of his life.

Andrew, or Andy as his friends called him, was a rare soul: a fellow who went against the grain, but didn't hold it against you if you didn't follow. He thrived in adversity, worked hard under pressure and always put a cheerful face on things. He could lighten any awkward situation with a lame but well-timed pun. He was intensely loyal to his friends and would never speak ill about one of them behind their backs. He did his level best at work and maintained a professional and industrious demeanor while on the job. His employers and friends alike could rely on him to go the extra mile. He always had an interesting tidbit to share about any given topic, and had away of explaining things that made them interesting and worthwhile. He would never pass a bum on the street without flipping him a quarter. He often failed to live up to his own standards, but he never quit trying.

I will miss Andy's intolerable puns. I'll miss his goofy grin. I'll miss his impeccable taste in movies, whiskey, and cigars. I'll miss flying with him over the Mojave Desert and the Alaskan wilderness. I'll miss his mouth-watering vegetarian lasagna. I'll miss his kindness, his optimism and his endless cheer. I'll miss the Santa Claus beard he grew in his old age, and the free gin and pipe tobacco he'd ply me with whenever I visited him in Chile. I'll miss the roaring adventures he wrote about in his novels, and the adventures the two of us had together. I'll miss the sight of him climbing, grinning, out of his trusty Jeep after a particularly challenging hill or patch of mud. But most of all I'll miss his imagination. Nothing was impossible for Andy; he dreamed big and he never lost sight of his goals. He'd always see the funny or wacky side to any situation. With his passing, the world has become a bit darker. But I know that we've all learned a little something from his novelist's mind, his punster's mouth and his go-getter style. Wherever he wanders now, I wish him all the best. 

30 Days to a Better Man, Day 5: cultivate your gratitude

There's two parts to this challenge. Part 1 is to cultivate your personal gratitude. This means making a list of ten things that you're grateful for. The trick is to not be thankful for superficial or general things, like health, family, a good job, and so on. No, the idea here is to dig under the layers and find things, little things, that you're grateful for on a daily basis. So, without further ado, here is my spirited attempt at such a litany:

10 THINGS I'M GRATEFUL FOR:

• sunsets - Heaven knows the universe doesn't need to light up the atmosphere with all those reds and yellows and oranges and pinks, but it does, and I appreciate it. 
• Korean immigration laws - Thank goodness there's a country that lets me live in it and pretend to be a professor and teach its students and pay me through the nose, because without it my dreams and I would have been sunk long ago.
• having a job that lets me travel - Working on a professor's schedule means that I have four whole months of the year to gallivant around the world and see the sights I've wanted to see since I was twelve. You can't beat that. Two years of hagwon purgatory have suddenly become worthwhile. 
• Swedish Fish - Without those little red fish-shaped candies, no visit Miss H and I made to the Skyline Drive-In movie theater in Barstow, California would ever have been the same. She brought a few bags home with her today. Time to catch up on all the TV shows that we missed!
• Brant and Joseph, my beer-brewing buddies - I would never have had the determination or the gumption required to start home brewing in Korea by myself. Thanks to them I have a store of goodly memories to tell about my time in South Korea...and a few dozen bottles of tasty brew in my fridge.
• my mad bomber hat - Made of real leather and rabbit fur and given to me as a Christmas gift by my parents a few years back. It really keeps my head warm in winter and cuts those icy winds down to size. It'll come in handy in Hokkaido. It may seem daft to be grateful for a hat, but no other chapeau suits my personality (or my head) as comfortably as that one. 
• absurdity - For reminding us that life is fundamentally crazy on so many levels, and that we need to slow down, realize it and laugh at it before we all go nuts. Also for being my modus operandi.
• radio - For connecting people, places, ideas, news, music, politics and free-mindedness across vast distances (and even between Earth and space) long before there was TV or Internet. There's a simple sort of elegance, warmth, beauty and intimacy to radio that television and the Web both lack. Radio (and vinyl records) fostered in me my love of music — long before I bought my first CD, I had a radio on my bedside table, dial twirled to the classic rock station. It brought me The Beatles, The Who, Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd, Coldplay, Owl City, and too many others to name. There's something about gathering around the radio set and listening to A Prairie Home Companion that no episode of Family Feud or Golden Girls can equal. 
• H.G. Wells - He didn't trust his fellow man, accurately predicted the future (grim as it was) and taught imaginative youngsters like me that there was more to life than what we could see. Good on ya, Herbert.
• flying small airplanes: Not sure who to thank for this, but Orville and Wilbur Wright and Clyde Cessna all seem like likely candidates. I don't know who or what I'd be without flight. I'm so grateful to the aviation pioneers and airplane manufacturers who allowed me to taste that heady magic previously allotted only to birds and pterosaurs (and take Miss H out on some kick-ass dates).  

The second part of this challenge is showing your gratitude to others. 

3 PEOPLE I THANKED:

Mr. A: My animator/illustrator. He's been very patient with me, and has done some pro bono work for me in the past, creating concept illustrations of my works, which I never believe I've thanked him for. I gave him a very specific and heartfelt thank-you.

Mrs. G: A very classy wife, mother, and former classmate from the High Desert. She's actually taken the time to read (truly read, and think critically about) some of my works, and give me thoughtful and helpful feedback, not the usual "your grammar sucks" or "I liked this part" blather. She is my intended audience: the person I write to when I write science fiction. I thanked her sincerely for that, and for paying attention to what I do on FB (she never fails to "like" or comment on the silly stuff I put up there, inflating my ego enormously). She also sends me neat stuff from around the Web that she finds: hilarious memes, the latest gadgets from ThinkGeek, or the coolest updates from Popular Science.

Miss H: My fiancée, of course. I took her for granted there for about 18 months of our three-and-a-half-year relationship, and am trying to cure myself of that horrendous habit forthwith. She went home to the States last week and she brought back a truckload of useful stuff for me: delicious candy and snacks, extra pajamas and workout clothes, a new eyeglasses case, and a host of other assorted gewgaws. I took her in my arms, told her I loved her, what a wonderful wife she is (even if we haven't tied the knot yet) and that I really appreciate what she did. 

There you go! I've cultivated my gratitude. This day, more than any other, I think, has been a valuable lesson for me. I let things go. I take people for granted. No more. I think I'm a little more mindful of things now (isn't that what the Buddhists, gurus and psychologists are always on about — mindfulness?). Looks like this challenge is helping me out already, and we're not even a week into it.


Stand fast for Day 6.

30 Days to a Better Man, Day 4: increase your testosterone

The article on The Art of Manliness website has two lists: the first tells you why low T is bad for us dudes, and the benefits of having good loose testosterone floating through our systems. The second list is what we can do to increase it. The challenge is to pick three of those things and do them today. 

Not smoking was kind of a cop-out. I don't smoke anything but pipes and cigars anyway, and then only on a biweekly or semi-monthly basis. Therefore, the three things I decided to do today were: 

• get at least 8 hours of sleep tonight (easy)
• eat a serving of good fat (as if I needed an excuse to eat olives and nuts)
• meditate for 10 minutes

I started going back to the gym recently, and I happen to be going today. I'll probably do some resistance training while I'm there. I took the liberty of looking ahead at the upcoming challenges and I noticed that Day 26 is "Take the Marine Corps Fitness Test." Part of that test is doing pull-ups, so I'm going to try to get in shape for those. (Maybe I'll finally be able to do more than one stinking pull-up by the time this is over.) So I'll do some resistance training at the gym, including pull-ups (or attempted pull-ups).

So there you go! Five things I'm doing today to increase my testosterone. I expect that, by the end of the day, I'll be ready to go deep-sea fishing or run with the bulls. More likely I'll have the energy and pep and pickup to add five thousand more words to Novel #3 (which I'm trying to finish before Miss H gets home on Sunday, so she can read it). At the very least, more T should help me grow this dang beard out before I head to Hokkaido in February.

Wish me luck...  

30 Days to a Better Man, Day 1: define your core values

A natural consequence of my life as an autodidact was the realization that, in addition to improving my mental capacity, I could stand to improve other aspects myself as well. Man does not eat of the Tree of Knowledge alone. There's a lot about me that could use some work. I'm in horrible shape, for one thing. And the term "emotional health" makes me, a red-blooded American man, think "Ewww, cooties." I could definitely use a shot of confidence, too. I've written hundreds of thousands of words and haven't gotten a single novelette published.

So! To that end, I hit upon the idea of doing Art of Manliness's Be a Better Man in 30 Days challenge. Why not? It can only help, right? Another year has gone by. It's January 1, 2014. I have once again realized how much of a lazy slob I can be, and how lacking in the most basic manly competencies I am. It's time to take matters in hand, and this challenge is just what the doctor ordered. I'm twiddling my thumbs at home for the entire month of January, and this will dovetail nicely with my writing-and-exercise regimen. The benefits are twofold: I'll be shouldering a new challenge (which has become a hobby of mine recently) and I'll take a delightful romp through the well-trod but classy Garden of Manliness. Classical manliness, none of this Billie Joe Armstrong skinny-jeans-and-eyeliner emo crap.

I understand, of course, that no Internet article can tell you how to be a man. But it can give you some handy tips on how to run your life, which if followed can improve the average man's mental, physical, financial and emotional well-being. If I take some of these lessons to heart, this challenge will make me more independent and confident in my doings, give me a more versatile skill set, impart clarity and certainty to my beliefs, and make my life just plain simpler.

This, then, is Day 1: Define Your Core Values.

I've been messing around on AoM for some time and they have a plethora of useful, timely, relevant, well-written and pithy articles. I agree with their judgment that manliness is a lost art, and much effort should be put into bringing it back. I've actually attempted a few of the items on this list already (and some of them I've already done), but not this one.

The main idea behind this challenge, as AoM states, is simple:

When I look at photos of men from my grandfather’s and even my dad’s generation, I can see a sense of purpose in the eyes of those men. Yet when I look at men today, I often don’t sense that kind of steely focus. Instead, I see dudes who are just sort of drifting along whichever way life pulls them. 

I’ve heard a lot of men my age complain of a sense of shiftlessness. They don’t have the drive, purpose, and ambition that our forebears had, and they feel adrift.

And this isn’t some sort of cranky old man observation about “kids these days.” Several books and articles by sociologists back up these observations.

There are numerous factors why men are just sort of drifting by today. Changes in the economy and societal shifts in regards to gender are definitely two major factors. But, let’s be honest. There’s not much a man, let alone a man stuck in neutral, can do about these things. So, today we’re going to focus on something that we all have the power to control: our core values.

I used to be a drifter. I was indecisive, dissolute, hedonistic, and lazy. I was just sort of coasting along all through my early twenties. I wanted to travel, I wanted to write, I wanted to fly, but I didn't have the drive to accomplish these things, or even a clear idea of how or when I would do it.

Today, I've learned better. I'm still indecisive, dissolute, hedonistic, and lazy, but now I actually care enough to do something about it.

I followed the directions outlined in the article and I came up with some ideas for core values, scribbling them down in one of the trusty notebooks scattered about my apartment. I'm putting them up here because I need to have accountability. I would like you, dear readers, to call me on anything I've put down which is weak or vague or unworthy. Censor me, if you will. Cherish the opportunity, for it shan't come again.

Without further ado, reproduced here for your consideration, are my core values: 

     1. CONFIDENCE. The lack of this has plagued me my whole life. It's kept me from leaping at opportunities that I would have cherished: submitting short stories and travel articles for publication, dancing with pretty girls, shouldering new responsibilities at work, acting in school plays, volunteering at magic shows and carnivals, and taking helicopter rides, to name a few. (That is correct: at the age of six I chickened out on riding in a helicopter. Me, the future pilot.) Confidence is hard work, but it's infinitely rewarding. I learned that when I got my pilot's license. When I first started flying, I was deathly afraid of screwing up and crashing. Overcoming that fear and becoming a more proficient flier made me more confident man. I'll never forget that feeling of triumph. Nowadays, even if I'm not sure I can do something, I give it a shot anyway. When I'm afraid of something, I have to challenge it. I have the confidence to pursue my goals, voice my opinions, and stand against the liars and fools. 

     2. HUMOR. An odd one, perhaps, but this has been a core value of mine ever since I was a kid. It's how I got through high school. Making people laugh was the only way I knew to get noticed, to be remembered, to be somebody. Subsequently I discovered just how genuinely good it felt to make people laugh or just crack a smile. Humor puts people at ease, smooths over conflicts, breaks the ice, and brightens a dark day. It's been my constant companion, even if I don't do it right all the time. 

     3. INTEGRITY. This is where I'm the most deficient. I am the most dissolute bugger ever. For the past five years I've promised myself that this year, I'll get in shape. Every year I continue to sit around on my duff and eat horrendous food. My natural inclination toward hedonism and Epicureanism have undermined my attempts to be healthy and get in shape. It's not just the physical arena that needs improvement, though. I often promise people (or myself) that I'll be more assiduous in my habits or more careful about my words, and then I'll turn around and commit the same old sins. I can be ill-tempered, impatient, selfish, hypocritical, immoderate, lazy, excoriating, insulting or just downright cruel at times. No more. A true man, in my opinion, does what he says he's going to do. And he only says he's going to do it once: he doesn't keep making the same promises over and over. Less talk, more action — consistent action. That shall be a clearly-defined value of mine from hereon out. There's nothing more satisfying than saying something and meaning it — and then living by it.

   

     4. GROWTH. Perhaps the most general of my values. There's a lot that falls under the label of "growth." It encapsulates all of the above values, for starters. I want to become more confident, more humorous and more consistent. Beyond that, though, I want to be smarter. I want to learn about the stuff I don't know about, fill in the gaps in my brain, continue by never-ending quest for knowledge. More importantly, I want to be wiser. At 27, I've experienced a few of life's lessons and learned them well; some of them I'm only just coming to know. Others surely await in the dim and unknown future. I want to be the kind of man that laughs at hardship and strives harder in adversity. I must learn to be kind to the unkind, forgiving to the unworthy, and temperate in all things. I want to be stronger (mentally and physically), funnier, kinder, and more discreet. I want to sharpen my skills, hone my mind, sculpt my personality, reflect upon life itself. I believe in being true to myself, my home, my relatives, my friends, my loved ones and my upbringing — to have that integrity I mentioned above. But I believe in the journey also. I hope I never stop learning to write, to fly, to be a human being.  

 

     5. LEGACY. Values are not goals. They are not something you strive for, nor boxes to be filled in, nor items to be scratched off a list. They are values: adamantine beliefs which I hold and cleave to. And I believe, firmly, that I have a job to do here. There's some karma that controls my destiny. I have a purpose to fulfill (and fulfilling it will be very fulfilling). That purpose, dear reader, is not my personal contentment. I used to believe it was, but I've come to know better. As Ralph Waldo Emerson said (emphasis mine), "The purpose of life is not to be happy. It is to be useful, to be honorable, to be compassionate, to have it make some difference that you have lived and lived well." There you are: my job is not to be happy, but to be a useful man, not a waste of space. I hold Emerson's words in my mind every day. The purpose of my life is to live well and make a difference. What difference? Will I reinvent the wheel? Cure cancer? Bring world peace? Champion a new age? Well, no. Probably not. I don't want to, either. I'll leave that to the dreamers and the eggheads. I'm just a humble geek and inveterate hack writer. All I want to do is write a bunch of books that make people laugh, cry, smile, scratch their heads, and wonder about the true nature of humanity and the Universe we live in. That's all. If some post-human race from the year 10,000,000 A.D. finds one of my sci-fi novels in a time capsule, translates the barbaric chicken scratch on its wood-pulp pages, and is somewhat amused by the comradeship and high adventure within...then my time on Earth wasn't wasted. 

That's it. Five core values. They have been defined for your reading pleasure. AoM says you're not supposed to have more than five, and I concur. Five's a goodly amount. Any more and you start to forget what you stand for, and making correct choices becomes more difficult. It wasn't hard to think of these. I've been mulling them over for quite some time. Perhaps I've known them all along, and had to put words to them to understand them completely. I'm glad I did.

So there you have it, readers! The things I stand for. Are they satisfactory to you? Suitably explained and outlined? If so, then the ball is in your court. Don't accept any more of my pathetic excuses. If I say I can't do something, or make a poor choice, call me on it. Use my own values against me. Delineating them is only half the battle; living up to them is the other. I'm going to try to do that for the rest of this month...and beyond. Tune in tomorrow for Day 2.

Oh, and Happy New Year.

going dark

Let's get straight to the rat-killer: I have deactivated my Facebook account.

I did this for several reasons. First of all, National Novel Writing Month is coming up again, and though I'm not sure if I'm going to do it again this year, it'd be nice to have Facebook out of the picture for the duration.

Second, I must detoxify. Facebook is by no means the only way I get my kicks out online—there's TV Tropes, YouTube, Wikipedia, IMDB, and a half-dozen other sites I visit regularly (perhaps too regularly). Shutting off Facebook for a spell will, however, reduce the amount of time I spend staring at screens every day. Seriously, I've got a disease. My right hand automatically clicks on Facebook even when I've just closed that window out a few seconds earlier. If Facebook is part of my muscle memory, then I need to take a step back and reevaluate my life. And that creates a nice segue into Reason No. 3.

Third, and most important, there's better stuff I could be doing. I've resolved not to venture back onto Facebook until I've made some serious lifestyle changes, and taken concrete steps toward advancing my life goals. Exercise, fresh air, literature (I'm way behind on those 30 books I need to read this year), writing, home improvement projects, beer-brewing (I haven't told you about that yet, have I?), and taking better advantage of my weekends. By "take better advantage of my weekends" I mean "take advantage of the fact that I live in freakin' South Korea and I need to get out and see some stuff during my last 18 months here." I still haven't seen Hwaseong Fortress, down in Suwon; I haven't set foot in Gangwon Province, nor sunbathed on Sokcho Beach on the Sea of Japan (or the East Sea, as the Koreans insist it be called); I still haven't visited Seoraksan National Park or explored Ganghwa Island or spent a day on the Incheon seafront. Oh, and Korail has a new sightseeing line up and running now, too: the V-Train. Now that I have a kick-ass camera (that Canon EOS Rebel T3i I keep going on about), I really have no excuse not to see any of this stuff, especially as it's all draped in autumn colors.

So that's it! I'm off Facebook. I'll still blog, of course (lots to blog about!) but I shan't show my face around the rest of the Internet until I get some stuff done. Not sure when I'll be back. Hold my calls.  

mid-September 2013 bulletins

Hey there, blogsphere. In the next few days I'm going to publish a confessional about the prejudices and preconceived notions I harbor about the People's Republic of China. Might be best to do that before I go there next week, you know?

Before that, though, here's the news:

• I am fully recovered from that week-long bout of tonsillitis that plagued me the first week of the new semester. 
• The weather appears to be turning. The dreadful summer heat has subsided, though the humidity is still sky-high. And speaking of the sky, the heavens have opened: the middle peninsula has been deluged with 120 millimeters (not quite 5 inches) of rain every day for the past three days. I'm surprised the subways haven't flooded yet. The downpour was so heavy yesterday that the lower half of my slacks were soaked through as I made my way from Gangbyeon Station to my final appointment with the ENT specialist. The rain bucketed down so hard that it was finding cracks and chinks in my umbrella, and icy drops were falling on my head at intervals. Yikes. Coupled with the unpleasant humidity (and the insane amount of sweating I do whenever it occurs), the situation has been untenable. I can't wait for fall to properly set in.
• In other news, the first two weeks of Sejong University's fall semester are over. Chuseok, the Korean harvest festival (roughly analogous to America's Thanksgiving Day) is coming up next week. It's three days, Wednesday to Friday, and that's when Miss H and I are actually going to China. I think this semester is starting out pretty well, but I feel tired already—the prospect of another four months of teaching is daunting. I think I'm finally starting to be well and truly burned out on education. I wanna go home and fly again. I may have some further news about that in the coming weeks, actually; Miss H is pretty burnt out too, what with her kids being so spoiled and unmanageable and all, so we may decide to go home early. We're going to talk it over.
• After many fits and starts, Miss H and I are going to start implementing some healthy habits around here: resuming our evening tea-and-yoga routine, for starters. It really helps us sleep. We've been looking around and garnering information about gyms, and tomorrow we'll probably stop by a few and ask about their rates and facilities. We've made dozens of attempts to get into shape on our own, but we've decided that forking over a membership fee and having personal trainers bark at us would overcome our lack of willpower and provide us with motivation. We have to start getting in shape for the wedding, you know!
• I also think I'm going to start keeping a nightly journal again. I keep buying blank journal books, excitingly leather-bound and full of blank college-ruled pages ripe for filling with life's intimate details, but I never write in 'em. It's difficult to get into the habit, for one thing. Our evenings can be so unpredictable. Hectic, too: I cook and wash dishes and plan lessons and so forth. Moreover, since I'm keeping a blog, there hardly seemed to be any point in keeping a journal...but I've realized that this blog is more like a twice-a-month thing (when I don't have travels to report on), while the journal would be every night. It'll be good to marshal my thoughts, clear my head, and sleep soundly knowing that the events of the day have been recorded and analyzed (in a non-electronic medium). Might help with penning my memoirs down the line, too. Journal-keeping rather sounds like a constructive habit to cultivate.
• Apart from that, there's not much news. After China, I don't have definite travel plans. I'm still considering doing a working holiday in Australia in January and February of 2014, but that might have to change if Miss H and I are going home early.
• Speaking of 2014, the World Cup qualifiers have begun. I was in a bottled-beer bar with a couple of coworkers last Tuesday and the Korea-Croatia game was on. I didn't stick around to see the whole thing, but apparently Korea lost 2-0. The national team has a rookie coach this year and this loss has made it warm for him. Korea will play Mali and Brazil in the coming weeks and they'd better put on a good show, or they might not qualify for the Cup. Golly, I'd hate to see what'll happen to that coach if that happens.

Alright, it's time for me to run. Miss H and I are meeting our friends Josh and JB (my coworker and his North Korean wife) for a double-date today: coffee, the Paul Gauguin exhibit at the Seoul Museum of Art, and samgyeopsal for dinner.

What's samgyeopsal, you ask?

Barbecued pork belly—strips of thick, streaky bacon fried Korean-style and eaten with lettuce leaves and ssamjang (meat sauce). Very fatty, very delicious and very popular among the locals.

Toodle-oo!

pedal power

One of the things that moved with me from Bucheon to Seoul was this secondhand mountain bike. I bought it from a Canadian friend who lived in Suwon for about ₩30,000. 

Now that the spring weather has finally arrived, I busted the thing out from under the stairs and started riding it. And boy, there's so much good stuff to see in this part of Seoul! Take the ride I took this Sunday, for instance: 

...past the flower truck...

...down the street behind our villa...

...to the main street and the T-junction that leads to the Gwangjin Bridge...

...across the Gwangjin Bridge and over the wide green Han River...

...down into the Hangang River Park...

...where I saw this. I'd ridden past it plenty of times, but never could tell precisely what it was. It looked like a runway to me, but it couldn't have been more than 300 feet long. That might have been useful for a bush plan and an extremely bold pilot, but it wasn't enough for practical everyday use.

   Then I looked to my right and saw these guys.

It was the KAMA, or the Korean Aero Model Association (since 1961). I had no idea they existed!

They're out here on alternate Sundays (I'm guessing) flying scale models from this little runway. The planes even have their own parking and run-up areas. It looked like a lot of fun, and it really made me miss flying.

Anyway, proceeding south along the park's 41-kilometer bike path...

...past the dude practicing his harmonica skills in the spring sunshine...

...to this tributary of the Han. Wish I knew what it was called. Anyway, heading east up the south side...

...one comes to a bike path, which is lined with cherry trees, which at this time of year are lined with...

...gorgeous cherry blossoms.

I gazed my fill, then biked back along the Jamsil Bridge to meet Miss H at Gangbyeon Station (Line 2), so we could head over to...

Jamsil Stadium (Sports Complex) to watch the Doosan Bears play the Hanhwa Eagles.

And that was my Sunday.

Catch you on the flip side...