sushipanda

Got it from a trusted source that the choco-cafe Whisk, which has gotten rave reviews from friends and venerable Shanghai taste-makers alike, has now decided not to allow patrons to wirelessly access the Internet, citing the behavior of visitors to camp inside for hours while purchasing slight amounts of food and drink. Apparently, the broadband and the wireless signal are alive and well, but the staff has been directed to decline offering the magic WiFi password to notebook-toting customers.

Given Shanghai’s hyper-competitive F&B industry, I understand how critical the profit imperative is. Still, Whisk screams out “come lounge in me” to anyone who’s ever been within 15 feet of the place, and it’s a bit of a surprise that the cafe is clamping down on one its species’ biggest draws. Personally, I haven’t visited the place in a while, and maybe turnover has indeed been problematic enough to drive management to such a decision. No mention of any wireless-related activity on their very sparse website, either.

Contrast that to Element Fresh at the K Wah Center, where I learned from the same source that they also have a no-wireless policy, except theirs is only enforced during the mad rush of lunch hour. Seems like a good blend between customer turnover and offering a relaxed, comfortable place to surf. We found ourselves there on Sunday, feigning work on what was supposed to be a business day, doing our annual “wait until the last month to use up all of our EnjoyShanghai coupons” routine. 2 smoothies for the price of 1…and 3 hours later, are butts were still firmly parked on the cushion.

Hmmm, with lousy customers like me, guess Whisk does have a point after all.

Not to beat the Oscar panda to death or anything, but anyone who saw the same CCTV Oscar pre-show that I saw must have watched the amazing red-carpet reporter Liu Shuai (刘帅) with similar awe and fascination.

First of all, I get more and more impressed each year with CCTV’s penetration of the paparazzi scrum right before the show. Mainland China is becoming more and more of a red carpet force, and Dick Cheney must be shivering in his quail-hunting boots.

Secondly, Liu Shuai showed some real entertainment-media cajones, calling out to celebrities (and many pseudo-celebrities) by first name.

“Nicole! Gwyneth! Leo! Tom!”

My brother and I cracked up everytime an actor sidled up to Liu Shuai thinking he mattered, only to be disappointed that it was some wild Chinese dude who didn’t really have any mind-blowing questions to ask. Once he got the interviewee to walk over, Liu usually plucked from his extensive list of questions, show below:

• Are you excited to be here?
• Can you wish the Chinese people a happy Chinese New Year?

At first, the parade of interviewees was long on the “unknown” (writers, directors of foreign-language films, Tom Hanks’ dog-walker), and it didn’t seem that Liu’s shrieking was doing any good. Most of the actors he got were polite, but you could see the looks on their faces as they thought to themselves: “Dude, I’m talking to some guy who doesn’t know who I am but who’s paying a buck to get a copy of my hard-earned work on DVD!”

Later on, Liu blew our minds by scoring some actual celebrities. Kudos to Rachel Weisz, who was gracious and friendly and totally awesome, as usual. Boo to Celine Dion, who ushered over to Liu asking “are you from Japan? Japanese?” And then when told she was being asked over by a Chinese guy, paused and said: “Hello, Chinese! Hello, China! Wow…far.” I’m going to pull her hair out one day, I swear.

Then Liu got the coolest dude of ‘em all, none other than Dirty Harry. It was great to see the bemused look on his face as Liu scrambled to ask something relevant. And even more awesome when Eastwood’s wife told him to say “Gong Hay Fat Chow” into the camera.

And with that, CCTV ended its red carpet coverage for its butchered telecast of the ceremony. Almost all of the Ellen Degeneres bits were cut out, and the “In Memoriam” tribute and all the montages, which are my favorite moments of the show, were absent. Apparently, I also missed Jack Black, Will Ferrell, and John C. Reilly doing something funny, which totally sucks for me.

But, I’ll always remember the amazing Liu Shuai, fearlessly screaming for famous people to come over and answer his vapid questions. It’s good to see that the Mainland is catching up with the rest of the world.

So after diligently avoiding all web media yesterday as to not be accidentally exposed to the winners of yesterday morning’s 79th Annual Oscar ceremony, I propped myself on the couch after dinner, giddy and anxious for the replay on CCTV-6 to start at 10 pm. Avoiding web media is no easy task for a notorious cubicle slacker as myself, but it was undoubtedly going to pay off handsomely as I would have no knowledge of the outcome while watching all the beautiful men and women troop up and down the Kodak Theatre stage.

At least, that was the plan. Around 10:08 pm, after a string of annoyingly long Chinese commercials, my source who had given me the schedule began to worry out loud. “I don’t think they’re going to show it,” she said. I gasped. She pointed out that at the bottom of the screen, the caption was showing that some weird film discussion show was the upcoming program, NOT the Oscar telecast.

Perhaps sensing panic, she showed me that multiple sites (like here and here) had clearly stated that CCTV-6 was to broadcast the show at 22:00pm. I spent 2 minutes and did a quick calculation in my head. “That’s 10 pm!” I exclaimed. “What’s going on?!”

Why were the Central Chinese TV gods dicking with me like this? After scrambling to whip out the old Pentium-M and somewhat unreliable TVU Player, only to discover that no channel available to me was showing the damn thing, I burst into tears and buried my face into my stuffed TarePanda.

After 14 consecutive years of watching the show, was this how the streak was going to die its fateful death? Would I miss Martin Scorsese’s long overdue coronation because of a CCTV scheduling error? Did I dress up in my best fabric-market ball gown for nothing?

After 15 minutes of sobbing, I heard my mother’s voice in my head, repeating the same thing she always says when I accidentally get food stuck on my cheek: “Eric, is this how a future CEO would behave?” I decided to get my act together, clean up, and accept my fate as a grown-up.

After putting my Oscar-time Barbie doll away, I said to everyone: “Ok, fine. I’m just going to get online and read about the winners. I don’t need the ceremony if it doesn’t need me.” I promptly cried out “woooooooooow” as I read through all the winners, surprises and non-surprises alike.

And then, the biggest surprise of the evening. At 10:30, CCTV-6 suddenly cut to…the red carpet at the Oscars!!! The show would go on after all! Apparently, the TV pricks thought it would be funny to start replaying the start of the ceremony at 10:44 pm. Basically, I had tortured myself for an entire day just to be surprised at the outcome, then when things looked bleak I caved in and updated myself, only to see that my original plan would have worked had I just been able to hold out a bit longer.

Who cares! The streak lives! And for Christmas this year, I’m asking for a Slingbox.

It’s that special day of the year again. Nope, not my birthday. Nope, not the Super Bowl. Nope, not the one day out of the entire year I decide to wash my socks.

It’s Oscar night!

Well, actually, here in Shanghai it’s Oscar morning, and tradition calls for me to be at work, completely shutting myself off from all websites and instant messages that might reveal the winners of the ceremony that is going on as I type this. All of this ridiculous distance so that I can go back home and watch the replay on CCTV-6, which starts at 10 pm and runs four hours long. Which means I’ll be watching the same shampoo and toothpaste commercials run about 500 times each.

But at the end of the day, all of this will be worth it as I get my annual Oscar fix. This will make it 14 straight years that I’ve watched this thing, and after all this amount of time, even the most boring awards presentations are still fun to watch for me.

(Pause for laughter: Mike just messaged me that Jay Chow won for best actor, and then all the white people left the building. Mike is awesome)

I’m surprised that they broadcast the Oscars in China, even though this will be the third one I’m catching here. Does anyone really watch this thing? What is the interest level of the local population of who wins for best animated short and best sound editing? I mean, that’s why most Americans tune in, after all. Maybe that’s why they have it showing at 1 am in the morning.

In the meantime, stay tuned for my second annual Top 10 list. To be honest, the nominated movies this year were nothing truly spectacular. It pains me to see the Academy always overlooking quality films every year (hello? Jackass 2, anyone?) for the sake of honoring didactic, moralistic bullshit masquerading itself as high art (can anyone say “Crash?”). They need me to run the MPAA so that I can usher in movies that will truly have an impact on the cultural landscape. And to make sure that Whoopi Goldberg never emcees another Oscars ceremony ever again (fingers crossed).

I cheated a little by back-dating a my blog posts from my trip to the U.S.. In reality, I had actually composed those much earlier, but with only the one week in Shanghai sandwiched between the States and Taipei for Chinese New Year, and with the ongoing Britney Spears shaved head drama consuming most of my attention, I never got around to actually uploading them. So, mucho apologies for being MIA, but c’mon….aren’t you guys used to it by now?

So to win back your favor, check out some of the pics of me and my pals (yes, burritos are friends too) during my brief journey back in Cali.

My first big bite into the greatest invention ever

This was the the fourth In ‘N Out I had that day

The “Before” picture: isn’t it beautiful?

“Yes, I came all the way back for you!”

The “After” picture: the beautiful sight is now swimming in my stomach

“Dinner with Roger and Wendy. They’re not in the picture. This is me and my twin babies. Yes, I did eat both of these dishes.”

I tried to eat healthy one of the nights, and this was the result. Beautiful yellowtail roll

Back in Berkeley, still eating the same wonderful nectar-of-the-gods

Famous Zachary’s pizza; brought two frozen slices all the way back to Shanghai

One last healthy breakfast with the buddies before my flight

I’m so excited.

After nearly a week in Taipei hanging with the family for Chinese New Year, I’m now sitting at the Hong Kong international airport, minutes from boarding on my flight back to Shanghai. After nearly a week of orderly behavior on the subway, of people staying on the right of the escalator so others can walk up past them on the left, of cab drivers responding with “please” and “thank you,” of only seeing one person hawk a loogey in public (a 4 year old kid, at that), of quiet train rides and nobody cutting in line…I’m now nearly home.

I am reminded of this because I find myself not only sitting at the airport gate, but also surrounded by about 80 Shanghainese folks. And, as is typical of Shanghainese, they’re talking to each other at about 500 decibels. No doubt that once we board, those at the front of the plane will find it necessary to make sure that their comrades at the very back of the plane are awake, and will scream and shout greetings down the aisle. And all of this makes me frustrated that I wasn’t able to find those noise-cancellation headphones in Taipei that I expressly wanted for this flight back.

I’m so excited.

Oh wait, I’m about to be back in Shanghai. Guess I need to say that a little louder.

I’M SO EXCITED!!!

Flipping through the channels in my wonderfully shitty little suite in Folsom, I came across resident CNN blowhard Lou Dobbs and his daily bluster show. They were doing a segment on the military expansion of Russia and China. I was recovering from what felt like my 28th In ‘N Out Double Double since I arrived, so my brain was slightly glazed over as I watched footage of missiles being fired from non-U.S. naval warships.

I then watched Dobbs wrap up the segment with Christine Romans, the reporter for the story. My ears pricked up as I heard her final comment (transcript can be found here):

Romans: James Carafano of the Heritage Foundation says the United States will overcome, the way it always has, by being patient, strong, and free. But Lou, there is no doubt, America’s enemies are eagerly challenging American interest around the globe.

My first reaction was: when did China officially become one of America’s enemies? Yes, I’m fully aware of the currents of trepidation and anxiety flowing through the minds of many Americans in regards to China…and for good reason, too. But last I checked, the mainland hadn’t yet made any declaration of war against the United States, or vice versa. Same goes to Russia, too. I’m not so naïve to think that there aren’t folks, from those in the hoi polloi to the highest levels of government, who already consider both countries to be imminent military dangers to the U.S.. But am I also naïve to think it’s a little weird for a MSM bulwark CNN to allow such presumption on the air? Any thoughts out there?

It’s Tuesday night in Folsom, and that means it’s trivia night at the local watering hole. The pub is called The Streets of London, and judging from my co-workers who go regularly, it’s THE after-work spot in town. And that is quite a tragedy, as they all came to admit later on.

The place is nice enough, a pub that seemed to cater to a young, college student crowd. And oh yes, an all-white crowd at that. I might as well have been at Malone’s or Zapata’s, sans clinging Chinese girls out to loot foreign pockets.

I always felt a little uncomfortable in these situations, even before I moved to China. I’m sure if I applied myself I could come up with some correlations between my minority childhood and the unease I feel in a predominantly white environment. The feeling is slightly amplified now, having spent three and a half hours playing the role of ethnic majority.

I remember when I was a sophomore in my high school choir class. Talk about a sea of white! The leader of the class was a thoroughly obnoxious soprano named Rebecca, who had managed to avoid talking to the Chinese kid throughout most of the school year, until at the very end when the teacher had given her the task of giving me some instruction related to…I don’t even remember What I do remember is that she sat down next to me, looked me in the eye, and then proceeded to speak to me as if I was a deaf-mute.

“Ooooooh Kaaaay Eric, caaaaaaaaaaan yoooooooooou doooooooooooo thisssssssss thinggggggg fooooooor meeeeeeeeee?”

Who did she think she was talking to? If it had been 8 years later, I probably would have reminded myself of the South Park episode where Sally Struthers’ foundation accidentally ships over a skinny Ethiopian kid to South Park in exchange for Kenny. Was she really so ignorant as to think that anyone who didn’t share her color was somehow English impaired?

The reason I bring this up now is because, sadly enough, I’ll always remember Rebecca and that moment for the rest of my life, and she probably forgot me right after she had that profound little exchange with me. Being looked down upon really fucks me up, and I think a part of me is always afraid that the next person I talk to is going to be another Rebecca. In China, I can be liberated from that; in Folsom, I am paralyzed with fear.

Of course, I internalize this and never show it. That’s the way it goes, I guess. In the meantime, there’s trivia to play. I join a team of co-workers in the back corner. The bar owner screams out questions to what appears to be about 18 to 20 teams of about 4-6 people. There are thirty questions in all, and here are the ones that I help my team answer:

Q. What 90’s film about a terrorism and martial law in New York starred Denzel Washington, Bruce Willis, and Annette Bening?
A. The Siege

Q. Which record company got Elvis Presley, Roy Orbison, and Johnny Cash their first start?
A. Sun Records

Q. “Abomination of a well wisher” is an anagram for what popular TV show?
A. Who Wants to be a Millionaire (I have no idea how I got that one)

Q. Which two teams played in the first Super Bowl?
A. Green Bay Packers and Kansas City Chiefs

Q. In which Angelina Jolie movie did she play a television reporter who is told by Tony Shalhoub that she is going to die?
A. Life, or Something Like it

I have to say that I’m quite proud of the last one, given that it’s a film I didn’t see (somehow, Angelina Jolie as a blonde just never appealed to the Angelina Jolie fan in me), and it appears that no one else in the bar knows that one. It does take me a good 45 minutes or so of pounding my head against the table to remember the titlbe, but at the end of the day it’s all worth it as our team wins 1st place (and a $30 gift certificate that I’ll never use) by one point.

And it’s telling that this turns out to be the highlight of my stay in Folsom. That, and the bag of Funions.

The first thing I notice after walking onto the aircraft are the flight attendants, for the simple reason that they seem to be from a completely different flight attendant universe as the ones on the Asian carriers. Essentially all my flights since the time I moved to Shanghai had been on Asian airlines (ANA, Singapore, and all the crappy Chinese ones). The profound differences in the composition and delivery of the service staff are good illustrations of some key cultural differences between the U.S. and its Eastern counterparts. Allow me to share my thoughts…

First of all, the attendants on the United flight are not exactly bursting with energy. This could be attributed to the boomer and post-boomer age segment to which most of them belong. It is nothing like walking onto a Shanghai Airlines flight, for instance, where I’m usually greeted by doe-eyed schoogirl-ish attendants who seem to have been plucked straight from the make-up counter at Parkson’s.

Unlike the U.S., where once narrow definitions of traditional occupations have broadened as principles of equal opportunity and anti-discrimination have strengthened, the act of discriminating towards attractive young women in jobs that essentially provide a service to businessmen (see hotel staff, administrative assistants, and travel agents) is accepted as a given. China remains a highly patriarchal culture, and stripping away the eye-candy that buttresses this aspect of the airlines business would be quite a shock to the system.

Physical attractiveness, however important in this system, does not complete it. There’s also the issue of attitude and behavior. In the U.S., I tend to feel that flight attendants are there to do a job. Clock in, follow protocol, don’t mess up. Passengers, after all, are just-folks. There is no difference between the attendant and the guy sitting in the seat. The individualism that is a hallmark of American culture is just as prominent miles up in the air.

Attendants on Asian airlines, however, are there not only to do their job, but to fill a role. It is a caretaker role that calls for sweetness and passivity, the latter of which hardly makes an appearance on my flight to S.F.. I get a whiff of this right off the bat, as my 50+ year old flight attendant glumly goes through the emergency demonstration while smacking me in the head with her demo oxygen mask. Of course, she never apologizes, never smiles, and appears to just want to “get this shit over with.” There are a more than a few passengers on this flight who don’t appear to speak English. This seems to drive some of the flight attendants bonkers after two attempts to communicate, and they either resort to flustered hand gestures or simply walk away. I’ve been living in China for more than three years, and I’m a dude, so yes, I admit that I’ve become quite accustomed to people catering to me. Being treated like shit on a flight is not one of the things that I particularly miss about living in the U.S..

As we begin our descent, two flight attendants get seated directly across from me in the emergency exit row. They start chatting about the Super Bowl, about their upcoming schedules, about how much rest they got the previous night. The man next to me asks them about tail-winds, and then the three of them somehow end up chatting about Yogi Berra, of all people. Seems that one of the attendants had Berra as one of her passengers. The conversation is light, friendly, and the looks on their faces was a far cry from the solemnity with which I got bonked on the head by the oxygen mask. I’m then reminded of how, when we Americans are outside of our actual workspace, we actually can be really friendly with other people we’ve never met before. There’s a openness and a courtesy that we give other people, a sense of a proper way to treat other people. And that indeed is something that I miss very much about the living in the U.S..

There is such a thing as reverse culture shock.

After deplaning and securing my beautiful Hyundai from Hertz, Chace and I were ready to get some hearty American food. I was already nervous and excited as I slowly pulled the car out of the garage, having not driven since that forgetful adventure on the wrong side of the road in Langkawi while surrounded by three shrieking Chinese women back in April of last year. I nearly orgasmed when I saw the International House of Pancakes right off the on-ramp.

Chace and I rushed into the restaurant, which was packed on a Sunday morning. The waitresses looked like they could have worked as United Airlines flight attendants. People were speaking Spanish. Not a hint of cigarette smoke could be whiffed. Yup, it was good to be back in the States.

Pancakes, pancakes, pancakes.

Both of us ordered milkshakes and the all-you-can-eat pancake special. $4.99 for eggs, sausage/bacon, and all you can eat pancakes! The shake was $3, and I gulped it down.

“Expensive milkshake,” said Chace.
“Really? It’s only $3!”
“Yeah, that’s like, 24 RMB.”

I paused for a second. 24 RMB isn’t that cheap for a milkshake of IHOP’s caliber. What was I thinking?

Chace then followed: “Do people tip here?”
“Where, California?”
“Yeah. Or, I mean, I dunno…the West Coast?”

After lunch we spent about 7 minutes trying to figure out what amount of tip we should put down. Chace swore that in the three odd years we’ve been living in China, it became standard to drop 20% for both lunch and dinner. That seemed big to me, but I was too afraid of the burly American waitresses to take a chance.

Never before had I ever felt so out of place in an IHOP. It reminded me of one of Thomas Jefferson’s most famous quotes: “Being a tourist in your own country totally blows.” Or, something to that effect.