C is for Cookie

One week left.

Yesterday was a very busy day. I played soccer, probably my last endeavor into competitive sports on this island. I didn’t hit the ball very much, in fact most of the time I felt like I was a spectator who was allowed to watch the game from inside the field and nobody seemed to notice.

I kicked somebody’s leg a few times and they collapsed and grabbed their shins like they do on the TV. I hate this. This is like when people make bad bluffs in poker. They saw professionals doing it on the TV so they think this is what you are supposed to do.

Professional soccer athletes get paid so much because they are exceptional actors. Also, they have big muscly legs and when they kick people it hurts. I don’t think I hurt people like that.

I will have plenty of time to practice my sporting skills when I get home, so in three years or whenever I am next in a location of sportiness I can make a better impression.

A contingent of Jeju soccer people will be going to the mainland in a few weeks for a tournament. I wish them the of luck. Have fun, experience the joy and magic that comes from teamwork and discipline, but don’t take things too seriously. You know who you are.

Later that day, there was the Airirang Radio “Wonders of Jeju Open  Broadcast.” I had accidentally committed to telling a story on the show. The theme was “family”, and while I love my family, I don’t have any short zippy stories about family on Jeju. I ended up just talking about when my parents visited and fudging some things to make it sound okay. Some dude who talked about his engagement ring won.

Everybody I think has a zany engagement ring story. Or a nutty wedding ring story. And you’re not allowed to not like them, because it is about weddings, or true love, or something.

Anyway, the highlight of the radio show were the K-pop groups who lipsynched sang at the concert. I don’t really have any comments about the music I heard.

It’s K-pop, it’s so fluffy and insubstantial that if you’re not paying attention you might not even realize a song is even playing. Unless it gets stuck in your head.

Where was PSY?

The first group was a girly quintet named “Sunny Days.” Somebody in the audience asked them who the girls thought was the prettiest out of them all, which is a stupid question. It was so obviously the center girl. A good follow-up would have been “line up in order of who is the prettiest.”

The Beatles used to do this all the time. There was that one day when John woke up hungover and unshaven and Ringo got to stand in the middle.

The women did not excite nearly so much as the “ELECTROBOYZ”, a Korean rapping trio of dubious authenticity. Here is their picture:

They all have pseudonyms: I’m not sure which is which, but their names are “Maboos”, “Chakun”, and “1Kine”.

These guys are hard core metrosexual rappers. They know that you can be tough on the street and still have time to gel your hair. Just because the city is a dangerous place doesn’t mean you can’t look pretty.

One of them-“1Kine”?-is from the US, and actually attended Maryland University, somehow squeezing that in between his stints in gangland. Or maybe that was his gangland; I visited that campus, I could totally see how you could get sucked into the wave of crime that hangs over Bethesda, MD.

My favorite exchange of the day (this is a paraphrase):

Joe Kim (host): “You guys look really great today.”

1Kine: “I’M NOT GAY!!!!!!!!!”

I hope this is just how he answers all questions.

“What’s is your favorite song, 1Kine?”  “I’m not gay.”

“What baseball team do you root for, 1Kine?” “I’m not gay.”

“What country does Dokdo belong to, 1Kine?” “I like women.”

Also, they ended everything they said with “YEAH!”

Personally,  I think Inner City Hello Kitty is a match for these guys. Their tough, but I’m tough too. Here’s a reminder:

 

Later that night, I had planned to sing a beautiful and touching song that reflecting my warm feelings towards the Jeju foreigner community. When it turned out that playing an instrument and singing is harder than I thought, I had to turn to plan b, which was…”c is for cookie.” Which at least is factually accurate.

Apparently I was so good at being bad that I spent the rest of the night explaining to people that, no, the whole thing wasn’t a pre-planned act, I really did want to sing a nice song before I didn’t sing a nice song. People thought I was channelling Andy Kaufmann. I guess that’s not so bad.

It’s nice to know that I’ve done such a good job here that even when I fail, I entertain. I’ll see how far I can push this. Next blog post will just be a string of random letters and words and I’ll see how many hits I get.

Freshly pressed indeed.