sushipanda

Just read that the Yankees are in China working with local officials on starting some sort of baseball academy here. Appears they’re the first MLB team to venture onto the mainland. I think that strategically, this is a huge move for them from a promotional and marketing standpoint. It gives them a leg up on everyone else in the majors, particularly the rival mega-franchise Red Sox. And by leg up, I mean if the Chinese market for American baseball ever catalyzes into something relevant. Which, at this point, still looks a long way off.

However, it doesn’t appear that the team has any significant expectations on player development in the near term, which means that we won’t be seeing the Yao of baseball anytime soon. Which, given the the amount of times I’ve witnessed Chinese dudes on the street displaying their sweet, perfect swings of the mop in cosmetic fights with other Chinese dudes, seems a little short-sighted on the Yankees’ part.

That being said, if my team the Detroit Lions ever recruited Shanghai construction workers to start for them…I hate to say that we’d probably be doing a lot better.

I’m not a wonk by any means, but I do have more than a passing interest in the happenings of the political arena in my home country. Now that the the heavy hitters have already tossed their hats into the 2008 U.S. presidential election ring, it’s not too early to start drizzling some of my own thoughts on what promises to be an exciting and important campaign season.

First, can we pull the whole thing in and just get the election over with like, now? I wonder if there’s anyone out there at all who believes that Bush can save his presidency in less than two years; why give him the chance to blow it even more at the expense of countless more lives, billions of dollars, and unquantifiable amounts of squandered, global standing? Let’s just skip past that part so we can actually start fixing shit. Although I’d miss this, which gives me a fun kick nearly every morning I get into the office.

Second, let’s get to Bill Richardson. The governor of New Mexico recently announced his intention to compete for the Democratic nomination. The man is well-spoken, ostensibly intelligent, and very experienced in the chambers of American politics. He’s also, how shall I say, a complete dweeb who deserves his inevitable shellacking at the hands of candidates who I actually want to see lead my country.

Those of you too young or distracted to pay attention to the espionage case of Dr. Wen Ho Lee back in 1999 may remember that Richardson, then Secretary of Energy under the Clinton, was a maniac in throwing the Chinese-American scientist to the treason-screaming dogs. Many, including myself, believe he scapegoated Lee with his eye on riding the paranoia wave all the way to the running-mate slot for Al Gore’s 2000 bid. After the case fell apart and was revealed as nothing more than an empty witch-hunt, all that was left behind was a man whose career and reputation were shattered, and an untouched Governor Richardson.

It’s unbelievably disheartening to understand that, regardless of rhetoric, our elected leaders will always be vulnerable to ambition and political capital. Richardson will never have my vote, but he’s not the only one who will stomp on those the leverage-less masses in the name of political destiny. Politicians…they generally suck.

All of that, and yet I find myself falling in love with this man. Go figure.

I work on the 7th floor of an office building, and we enjoy something that none of the other floors have: a cute little common area with 6 round tables and a hideous red couch in the corner. This tiny slice of corporate heaven came into existence when the powers above realized that there were too few conference rooms for a company that thrives on an excess of unnecessary meetings. Hence, a creative and popular workaround was birthed.

And that was where I found myself 20 minutes ago having a one-on-one meeting with one of the engineering managers. The only other person in that common area was a tired looking engineer, who sat at a table across from me, clearly waiting for someone to join him. There wasn’t anything spectacular about the sight; my building is full of middle-aged, disheveled looking Chinese men who wear glasses and ugly shoes. I didn’t pay him much attention, as I was too busy trying to look interested in what my own meeting companion was saying.

However, I couldn’t help but get excited when the other dude suddenly ripped out a terrifically loud fart. The thing was the exact opposite of subtle (my S.A.T. words are escaping now, and I’m too lazy to look up thesaurus.com), and I was blown away (pun intended) by how unembarrassed he looking. He just sat there, pretending as if nothing had happened, ignoring that fact that a huge gush of air had just been popped out of his anus in the common area of a Fortune 500 company.

I wish I could say that I am above being affected by random farts in public. Or private, for that matter. But you know what, I’m not. I contend that flatulence remains and will always remain a pure, uncorrupted form of entertainment. And since I live in the country of belches and Bronx cheers, I have every right to enjoy them.

Also, if you’re as enthused about this subject as I am, you’re welcome to drop by my place any time and I’ll give you plenty of entertainment.

As an epilogue to the previous post, I’d just like to update you all on the outcome of my eventual decision NOT to ditch work and watch the AFC championship game. I actually was able to see most of the 1st half as I was showering and scrambling to get ready to add my valuable contribution to my wonderful little company of 97,000 people worldwide. I was relieved that near halftime, the score was 21-3 in favor of the Pats. On top of that, my co-worker Nikki, a lovable gadfly who loves to “take me down a few pegs, so to speak” at the office, had requested me to be her “mover-of-boxes” for a day as she prepared to relocate back to the States, so my decision to fulfill my corporate and peer responsibility looked better and better as the game teetered toward blow-out territory.

Fast forward to 5 minutes ago, when I checked ESPN.com to see that the Colts had scored the go-ahead touchdown in an eventual 38-34 victory over their arch rivals. During what ostensibly appears to be one of those instant NFL classics, I was snoring loudly on the shuttle bus, on my way to the office so I could spend my day reading about the stupid Australian Open because I’ve exhausted all other articles on ESPN, and trying to choke down the God-awful cafeteria food that I swear has somehow radioactively disabled any capacity I have to be a spiritual and giving human being.

And yes, the stock price is still where it was a year and a half ago…in the toilet. There ya go for being a good employee; why does anyone even do it?

So the NFC and AFC championship games are about to start in a few hours. I’ll be sound asleep for the Saints-Bears game, but I have the option of going to work late and watching the first half of the Pats-Colts game if I want to. It’s clearly the marquee match-up of the season, and in my opinion a more compelling game than any of the potential Super Bowl match-ups would be. Combine that with the fact that, being parked thousands of miles away from my home continent, I haven’t watched a single NFL contest this year, and my interest is at an all time high.

Of course, being a business major, my mind works in the realm of trade-offs. If I do decide to stay home and watch the game, I’ll be neglecting a ton of responsibility that has been bestowed upon me, ever since the new year rolled around and the company has somewhat regained its footing and *gasp* have actually placed me on some projects. Of course, the fact that I essentially did nothing in ‘06 and am peering into the cold, black abyss of the annual performance review season has me motivated to contribute a lot more this year. Meaning, of course, that I need to start making trade-offs between this glamorously derelict life to which I’ve become so accustomed and actual, gritty spreadsheet work.

So for the past two hours, I’ve been straining my brain trying to justify watching the game when there are so many more important things going on in my life, and humanity in general. I thought about how I need to revisit my priorities, now that I’ve got a house and somewhat of a family to take care of (and by family, I’m referring to those two new plants I got a couple of week back). Also, I watched “An Inconvenient Truth” a few days ago and it scared the bejeezus out of me. So, on top of the mortgage thing, there’s the whole depressing global warming thing that’s got me worried and stressed out. And how could I forget the fact that Lindsay Lohan just checked herself into rehab?

So with all these weighty issues to wrap my mind around, I’m concluding that the best way to deal with it is to watch Peyton Manning throw another big game away.

Thanks, all of you, for pushing me to make the right decision. Go Lions!

It was sometime right before lunch yesterday when I received Mike’s SMS invitation for dinner at his house that night. As a committed practitioner of SMS RSVP etiquette, I politely asked him if he needed me to bring anything. The following is a rather embarrassing account of our exchange, embarrassing primarily because, in hindsight, it’s not the language of a very mature and sophisticated person:

Mike: I’m making steak and mapo tofu (麻婆豆腐). Bring whatever you think complements that

Me: I’ll bring over some 米饭 (white rice).

Mike: Haha, thanks man. I think I can take care of that.

Me: How about 纸巾 (napkins).

Mike: How about some 鲍鱼.

Now, 鲍鱼 means abalone, which is a very high-priced seafood delicacy in Chinese cuisine. My natural interpretation of his message was that he was humoring me by following my lead down to the depths of idiotic banter. Basically, he was saying to me: “Ok, if you want to be cheap and bring things that are worth nothing, then I’ll suggest you bring over something that’s worth a ton.”

Imagine my surprise when, after showing the message to Lydia, she chuckled and said: “That means you have to bring more girls!” It was, at the time, a comment that made no sense to me in any dimension at all. Seeing my confusion, she asked: “You do know what that means, don’t you?”

“鲍鱼? It means abalone, right?”

“Yeah, but it’s also a slang term for a girl’s, you know…”

“What?”

“Um…down there.”

What the hell was going on? How could I have instigated one completely juvenile dialogue, only to be embroiled in another one involving subtle references to female genitalia.

And wait a sec, female genitalia? Abalone is supposed to be another term for female genitalia? In what world could this possibly be true? In this day and age, how is it believable that people would use seafood as representations of the truly holy?

Oh yeah, forgot. Men usually come up with these things. Makes sense now.

What’s better than paying 500 RMB a person to get totally smashed with your best friends to some great music at a hot new club? What about paying almost nothing to do it at a much smaller club that is cool simply because you are there! Ladies and gentlemen, what a great way to start the new year!

I’ve been wasting spending a whole lot of time getting my blog set up with its new look in its new home, which is strange considering that the only person who reads this is Steve when he’s bored and locked in the bathroom. Still, I did want to make an actual improvement to the previous incarnation compared to just switching things over. Thus, I spent a considerable amount of time working on the design template, categorizing previous posts, and doing a lot of boring stuff that would make most of you knock your heads against our desks in overwhelmed anguish.

I hope that the result is as satisfying to you as it is to me. I kept in mind Clint’s Design 101 advice to me when he came over last year: black text against a white background is one of the ground rules. I also added the post calendar on the right sidebar, which prompted Mikkel to suggest that I use it as motivation to blog more (”you should be ashamed if there are hardly any dates in blue”). I’ve also added categories to my posts, so for those of you who only want to look at pictures of all the cute girls like Lydia and Anabela, just search for “photos” and all my galleries should pop up.

Take that, Blogger/Google! WordPress rocks! No more stupid error messages that won’t allow me to publish. I’ll be tinkering with it some, but now that things finally look settled I can get back to recording profundities and classic meditations on life and China and the world that can only be found here at sushipanda.com. Take, for example, this fantastic piece of poetry below:

“It’s January in Shanghai and I’m freezing my ass off…indoors, no less! I want my mommy!”

Impressive, isn’t it?

Where else to celebrate Christmas Eve other than The Temple itself? With friends and loved ones all around, it was time to celebrate China style; forget the trees and the carols, bring on Johnny and Summer and let the fun ensue!