We must honor the great American tradition of the melting pot, which has made us one Nation out of many peoples. The success of our country depends upon helping newcomers assimilate into our society, and embrace our common identity as Americans. Americans are bound together by our shared ideals, an appreciation of our history, respect for the flag we fly, and an ability to speak and write the English language.

George W. Bush

I’ve been converted. I’ve seen the light where the sun don’t shine.

This morning, I walked into the bathroom and there I was, like Neo in The Matrix, with a choice. On my left, the blue pill (i.e the sit toilet). Take it and I could continue living the “illusory and predictable life” that I’ve “known and loved” for the past 25 years. And on my right, the RED pill (i.e. the squat toilet), the world as it is or will be. And so, despite the non-functioning lock on the door, I did the Dew the same way Chairman Mao, Deng and the rest had done many years before me.

So, if China really is the future, do we Americans need to worry not only about them taking us over as an economic power, but also as the leader in toilet technique? Should the newly appointed Dems be concerned about this? Are they capable of responding? Can Pelosi stop bitching about human rights and realize that if we don’t do something about that trade deficit her fragile hips will be breaking as she hovers over those “foot pedals”? Will this be the domino effect they talked so frequently about During ‘Nam? Am I the first to fall (in)?

A wise Chengdu ren once said…

“This is the life. Back in the States, the only entertainment I have is going to the grocery store.”

I used to wear women’s deoderant - “Secret”.

Why? Well, because it’s strong enough for a man… and my Mom got it for free.

“You showed your ass like someone wearing white cotton stretch pants and no drawls.”

-Anonymous

Inspired by a friend’s blog that includes a “quote of the day”, I offer you these:

“All my life I’ve lived by a code. That code is simple:

Honor the Gods.

Love your woman.

Defend your country.”

and

“We are lions. Immortality awaits.”

-Brad Pitt in “Troy”, a comedy of sorts.

This is not too important (so don’t get all emotional), but it never ceases to come up in conversations, so I decided to blog about it.

While I understand the logic (e.g. ease of communication, assimilation into a new environment, etc.), I don’t believe it is necessary for Chinese to adopt an English name. Americans should learn how to pronounce Chinese names and Chinese American names (they already do this, as there are not many Americans here or in the States that adopt an alias for use with their Chinese friends).

Second, and more importantly, the names, 90% of the time, are “sensational failures”. They must be choosing from a list titled, “Names Americans will not take, but welcome you to”. Now, if you are one of my Chinese friends who has adopted an American name, you are, of course, in this other 10%; or so you are welcome to think

The best two names I’ve encountered so far are:

For a male: Willow

For a female: Peace Li (editor’s note: Her first American name was “Sarah”, but she opted for the change when all her classmates asked if she baked pies, a la the famous baked goods brand, Sara Lee. LOL.

With that, and in typical hypocritical fashion, I have adopted the Chinese name of “Shen Ming (literally, careful and clear), taken from the expression ‘consider carefully and argue clearly’”. Besides the cool meaning, I’m hoping some chicks think I’m related to Yao. YO!

Recently, I’ve been finding it difficult to accurately describe China to friends. But I’ve finally found a way.

Think of the most flattering adjective in the English language. Got it? 

Now, think of the most pejorative adjective in the English lanaguage. Got it?

That’s China. Those two and everything in between. If you can’t love it, you need to get one of those ER style blasts to the chest. Clear……..

In between trips to the bathroom, I managed to get some shut eye. And you’ll never guess who was waiting for me in the lobby of my subconcious? None other than Boomer Esiason himself. Well, kinda. It was his hair. His hair had made it’s way to my head, golden locks, receding line and all. I tried to manage it, but ended the dream with “Damn this Boomer Esiason hair”!!! He did make some great BBQ sauce, though.