Thursday, March 28, 2013

More than one.

Timeout Boy: "If it's more than one, it's dance.  If it's only one, it's dan."

Tuesday, March 26, 2013

Tag a log.

So the other day, I was at the bank, and the teller asks me, "Are you Filipino?"  So I say, "Yup".  And then we proceeded with the transaction.

Sometimes people speak Spanish to me, and sometimes people speak Chinese to me.  I'm not sure exactly how the teller figured out that I was Filipino.  I wouldn't have guessed that he was Filipino just by looking at him.  I'm not sure how any of that was pertinent to the transaction anyway.

We didn't even go into any kind of small talk about our Filipino-ness either.  So I guess, my point is, what was the point of asking me that?  It's not like it would change anything.  It's not like you'll slip me some extra cash because we both happen to have the same ethnicity.

It all just seems pointless to me.

I can see if I was having trouble speaking English maybe.  Then you can take a chance and say, hey, if you're more comfortable with Tagalog, I happen to be Filipino as well.  But I mean, he seemed to be fluent in English, and I believe I can communicate fairly well in the language.  Also, I'm not even that used to Tagalog because I don't really speak it with anybody anymore. 

I mean, am I wrong to wonder about the logic of asking somebody's background, regardless of whether you happen to be the same or not?

Another day, I was at the pharmacy.  The lady spoke to me in Tagalog, and I answered in English.  She looked up from her computer and gave me this curious look.  It was only a quick glance, but she seemed to be figuring me out, like it was so odd that I responded in a different language.  I may have had an accent then.  So she may have assumed - and rightly so - that English wasn't my first language.

My accent comes and goes.  My Filipino-born friends don't think I have an accent when I speak English, and they think I have an American accent when I speak Tagalog and other dialects.  Meanwhile, my American-born friends think I have a Filipino accent.  And I sometimes speak pidgin with my Hawaii-born wife of Filipino descent.

I used to actually try and speak Tagalog back, but now it's just too much effort.  I used to want the other person to know that hey, I'm Filipino, too, isn't that great?  But now I just wanna get my shit and go.  It doesn't really make a difference.

I'd just rather not assume.  I didn't realize one of my co-workers was Filipino until a few weeks after he was hired.  Someone in the office mentioned it to me.  And I said, "That's cool."  I mean, what else was I supposed to do?  It was actually the Filipino guy later on who came up to me and said something like, "Hey, you're Filipino also, right?"  And then we talked about where we were born, how we grew up, our families and other things.  And that was cool.  But I would have the same kind of conversation with anyone regardless of their background.

And he didn't speak Tagalog, but he understood it.  Just like my wife.  Actually, my wife doesn't know Tagalog that well.  But I told him that I have Jufran hot sauce in the cupboard, and he can help himself to it if he wants.

As you may or may not know, I'm a staff writer over at www.ganggreennation.com.  I have been interacting with many, many Jets fans over the years, and I have no idea what most of them look like.  And they don't know my background either.  And I like it that way.  And we get into debates about the team, and we joke around, and we even share real life problems and empathize. 

I'm rambling on now, and I guess maybe I'm making a big deal of this. 

Sunday, March 3, 2013

Cool story, bro.

So yesterday, on a total whim, I decided to take my son to the library for the first time.  I hadn't been there in about nine years.  I think I wanted to check out if they still had a media department so I could rent "Moonrise Kingdom".

Anyway, we went to the kids' section and read "The Cat in the Hat" and "Horton Hears a Who".  Then we checked out the media department, and it did still exist.  We found DVDs of "Horton" and "The Lorax", and we rented them, along with "Moonrise".

We went home and watched "Horton" while eating lunch.  We don't usually watch TV while eating, because Timeout Boy ends up just staring and not touching his plate.  For some reason I decided to just feed him and let him watch.

We then went grocery shopping.  We bought some things at Target.  Then we drove over to ShopRite. On the way there, the kid fell asleep, so he and I stayed in the car while my wife continued shopping.  I listened to the radio, and for some reason I was really paying attention to the songs' bass lines.  Then the DJ came on and mentioned that it was Dr. Seuss' birthday.

I thought that was a pretty cool coincidence.