"Flopping Aces" - 9 new articles
Hammering Out Sparks from the Anvil…
Take a look at the photo at the top. Is there anything strikingly odd about the photo? What do you see? I see a “ridiculous” little Asian boy pretending to be a cowboy, and proud of wearing the get-up. I say “ridiculous”, because, of course, there weren’t really any Asian cowboys out in the Wild West. If anything, I should be playing the part of an Injun. But back then, at the time, I didn’t feel ridiculous. I thought I looked like Robert Conrad. My parents never kept my adoption a secret from me. I’ve known all my life that I was adopted, so it never seemed strange to me. I do admit, however, that in college, it did begin to occur to me what a unique experience mine might be; and earlier in my pre-teens, I know I was self-conscious when visiting relatives (on my dad’s side….which consequently also affected my feelings when around my relatives from my mom’s side) in California of the fact that I was not blood-related to people who seemed to offer me unconditional acceptance and love. Still, it couldn’t erase the feeling that in a “skin-deep” sense, I didn’t belong. And it had nothing to do with how my relatives treated me. One of the experiences that really meant a lot to me was when my grandpa introduced me to his nurse as his grandson. My Dad and I had flown out to visit him in the hospital, because he didn’t have much longer to live. My grandfather was a short thin man; a fisherman and a cusser who was known as “Firpy” (my dad inherented the nickname) because in his youth he was scrappy (I believe there was a boxer named “Firpo”). He was not the kind of grandfather you felt comfortable to be bounced upon, on his knee, and run up to for hugs. The reason why it was a healing experience to hear him tell the nurse that I was his grandson, was that a few years earlier, my mom in a moment of bitterness, told me the story of how Grandpa Phirpy apparently said to my Dad before he shipped to Japan, “I don’t care what you do over there, but don’t you dare marry a Japanese lady. If you do, I’ll disown you.” My dad said, “Alright”. But of course, things turned out different. And no, apparently he didn’t get disowned. But it was another experience in my maturation toward dealing with racism on a personal level. My earliest memory of being race-conscious, was one day when I was about 4 or 5 living in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. My mom took me to check out Tinkerbell Kindergarten. It must have been an open-house or something. I went out on the playground where two boys were playing on the monkey bars. They basically told me to go away and I couldn’t play there with them; they used racial slurs to reject me. Back then, children used to take their thumbs to stretch the corners out to mock those with “slant eyes”. I don’t see kids doing that these days. It was one of those experiences that began to shape my consciousness that there was something physically different about me from other “Americans”; that I didn’t physically resemble Robert Conrad. And I began to take a closer look in the mirror, to see what others were seeing that I had failed to see. As a footnote, one of the two boys, Richard, became my best friend and neighbor when we moved into the house across the street. Subsequently, because of that, the other kid, Butch, grew to accept me, too. They were the first ones to teach me a rhyme involving the “N” word. In a moment of ignorant innocence and stupidity, I asked Dad, “Do you want to hear something funny?” And I told him the rhyme. He asked me to repeat it. I think even then, even without the incredulous tone of disbelief in his voice, I knew that I had said something bad. And as young as I was, 5 maybe, I am sure I was conscious of what that word was related to. Richard and I had sang it, while sitting in a car, watching an elderly black man getting into his car. I was ignorant of what I was saying, and yet, part of me I think was consciously aware, and not so blissfully ignorant. My dad told me to never, ever say those words again. I didn’t get spanked, but the verbal berating and the gravity in his tone of voice really made me feel ashamed. My first girlfriend was in kindergarten. She was the only other Asian at Tinkerbell. Basically, she gave me no say in the matter of our relationship, and simply said, “You’re mine. I own you.” And I went along with it. Every recess, I had to pretend I was Little Joe (Michael Landon) from Bonanza. I still wanted to be James West, though. I have a vague recollection of Bruce Lee from when I was really, really little. He must have been big, for me to have known about him without having actually seen any of his movies. Back then, and later when the Kung Fu TV series came out, if you were Oriental, you were expected to know karate chops and kung fu. The only Asian hero I remember who “looked like me” when I was young, was Ultraman’s alter ego, Science Patrol member Hayata. It came on in South Carolina, translated from the Japanese series, during the afternoon, hosted by a pretty woman called “Happy Rain”, dressed like an Indian. Other than Hayata, all of my heroes and role models growing up, the G.I. doll toys I played with, the T.V. and movie stars, were white male figures. When Star Trek was on, I didn’t want to be Lt. Sulu. I wanted to be Captain James T. Kirk, dammit. Multiculturalists would tell the four year-old boy in the photo that he was being white-washed. They would tell the 40 year old blogger hammering this post out on his keyboard, that he is a twinkie: White on the inside, yellow on the out. If I were black, maybe I’d be an Uncle Tom and a sellout. I spent 6 years of my college time living with two of my teammates, who were brothers. They also happened to be middle-class black, from Alburqurque. One day, a student asked Greg, the younger brother, if he had been to any ASU meetings, lately. He replied that, “Yeah, we’ve been out there; we compete there sometimes.” (My roommates and I were on the gymnastics team- the older brother, Chainey, eventually making the ‘96 U.S. Olympic Team). The guy who asked Greg the question just shook his head and thought my roommate was so out of touch because Greg thought he meant had he been to Arizona State University; but what he really was asking is, had Greg attended any African Student Union group meetings. UCLA is heralded as diverse and multicultural. That might be. But rather than a melting pot, half of what I saw were self-segregationists. On my way to class, down Bruin Walk, I could see the Chinese Student Union members mingling at the steps of Kerkhoff Hall; on the other side, ASU members hung out together. I attended one Pilipino student group meeting, and found myself turned off by the rhetoric of activism, which had an “Us vs. Them” mentality of persecution. I, as a non-Filipino, felt alienated because I didn’t identify myself through my skin-color. They didn’t know this, and probably thought I fit right in, due to my shared Malay heritage. In college, I largely slept-walked (is that even a phrase? Does it matter? It is one now…) through student political activism and consciousness. That is probably a good thing, because even though my father always voted Republican, I was not “overtly” raised on conservative values and principles. My dad is not particularly political. He never really told me “You should think this way, you should not think that way” when it came to political thought. So, really, I was pretty ripe pickings for liberal indoctrination. It happened to some degree. Being an English major, I read a number of modern American literature focused on issues of multiculturalism and racism, with teachers to match. My poly sci professor came to class in tie-dye and Grateful Dead concert t-shirts, jeans, and sandals. He was a Marxist. Liberalism was all around me, and somehow I was innoculated from much of the “damaging”, “brainwashing” effects, even without understanding and being exposed to conservative ideology. It was only after 9/11, that my political conservative gene was activated. The events of 9/11 shaped my political identity and forced me to exercise a voice in the political direction that this country heads into. Responsibility for the future rests with each of us. I realize now, that there are no sidelines. No fence-sitting. Politics is vital to shaping our values, upholding our traditions, and steering the direction that our country heads into, in a post-9/11 world. Going back to the NYTimes article…. My opinion is strictly my own and I do not pretend to speak for every person adopted by parents of a different ethnicity. That being said, I strongly disagree with the parents who feel it is necessary to force cultural heritage studies upon a child, based upon the child’s ethnic makeup and native culture. Especially if the child expresses non-interest. The Chinese adopted girls do not need to be raised to know intimately, Chinese culture. What they do need to be raised on, are American heritage, American values, American traditions. The adoptive parents are misguided if they feel obligated to give their child a Chinese name and raise a Chinese kid. What they need to do, is they need to raise an American kid and impart the knowledge, traditions, heritage, family history, religious beliefs, that they are familiar with. My college roommates are now both doctors. They did not embrace Afrocentrism and black separatist nationalism. Nor have they been white-washed simply because they speak perfectly good English, have kept their “slave names”, and embrace and contribute to mainstream American society. That is not being “a sell out”. It’s participating in the American dream. It is enjoying the fruits of their labor in the land of golden opportunities. A country where any citizen regardless of race, gender, or class can grow up to become president. Diversity is our strength; assimiliation, the glue that binds us all together. E(x) pluribus unum. Out of many, one. Multiculturalism, as it is preached today, is not about celebrating the beauties of other cultures and appreciating mixed heritages. In the hands of leftists, it is about separatism and narcissism. It is the selfish need to replace already established American values and traditions with one’s native values and traditions. All cultures are not equal, when it comes to the historical shaping and founding of America. I am neither Jew, nor Christian; but I fully acknowledge and appreciate that it is what is commonly referred to as our Judeo-Christian values that enables us to tolerate, welcome, and embrace all other cultural heritages. That is at the core of America. When immigrating to this country, the core must be adopted. It is up to immigrants who wish to be American to adapt to American customs and values; not the other way around. Otherwise, we will dissolve into a nation of many nations and many people. Not one nation and one people. I am all for adding one’s unique cultural flavor to the mix; but I am not for replacing the established American “core” culture with one’s own. So, who do you now see when you look at the photo at the top? I see a young boy who will grow up secure in his own identity; who acknowledges his ethnic roots, but is not bound to it by the divisiveness of race and skin color. I see my past which came to shape my present. And here I am, a proud and grateful American. Happy Independence Day, my fellow Americans!
4th of July ~ Sheepdog Style
Today we, as Americans, celebrate 232 years of growth as a nation. Together we have celebrated the sweetness of hard won victory, weathered a bloody civil war, reaped the benefits of innovative leaps in technology and through public debate changed perceptions of cultural norms. All of our victories and all of our losses have been shared by Americans through the years, we are all part of the story of this nation. Unlike Michelle Obama, I am proud to be part of the unfolding story of this nation. Here is to another 232 years of growth. My first act to celebrate the 4th of July was to purchase ice cream from the Twistee Treat ice cream and water ice store in the Mayfair section of Philadelphia. The store is hard to miss as you can see in my cell phone photo above. The ice cream has never tasted sweeter than today. In addition to indulging in my chocolate ice cream addiction, I made a donation to the Injured Marine Semper Fi fund.
After indulging in the Dulce ice cream, I motored to Glenside to join my fellow Sheepdogs in the Independence Day Celebration & 105th Annual July 4th Parade. This is one of the largest, oldest and best-known parades in this region of the nation. The Chester County Victory Movement was honored to participate in this historic and patriotic parade in celebration of America.
A Heros Welcome is always a welcome addition to our Sheepdog road trips. One of our members participated in the parade on two wheels - two very nice wheels!
Along the route, we witnessed a father instructing his small children to stand up when our flags passed by. An elderly veteran slowly raised himself upright when he saw our flags passing by him. A couple of Sheepdogs took time to walk over to thank him for his service.
Thanks Giving in July!Happy 4th of July!
I’m so thankful I was born here! It’s a day to be truly thankful to be an American. It’s such an amazing country that millions around the world will stake everything they have to get here and enjoy the same freedom that those of us who were born here enjoy every day. Some new arrivals may think we take our freedom for granted (read the story of one first generation American who thanks his mother for coming here). Well, that may be true for some Americans (and we know who we are talking about don’t we?) but it’s not true for me. Today is a celebration of Thanksgiving for being so fortunate to live in one of the greatest nations that ever blessed the surface of the earth. It’s a day to be proud of our accomplisments, our history and the hard won freedom that made it all possible. Celebrate with music Two favorites here: Lee Greenwoods “Proud to be an American” and the US Air Force Band’s jazz version of “Battle Hymn of the Republic.” If you are done with loud sounds for the day and ready to mellow out, how about the USAF Band’s instrumental version of “America the Beautiful?” More links to patriotic music downloads at the bottom of this post.
Happy Independence Day!The Fourth of July. An important day and one day we should really reflect on our nation. Enjoy your families, your friends, the fireworks and food. But don’t forget what this day means. If I had to choose one word to sum up this day I would choose sacrifice. Those who sacrificed everything, their money, their positions in society, their lives, to sign that Declaration should be honored in every way possible. This is not a day to just gaze at fireworks. This is a day to reflect on those who sacrificed everything, including their lives so that we may live in a free land. Just today over a thousand men and women chose to re-enlist in Iraq, willing to sacrifice everything just as our founding fathers did:
Take a look yourself at the sacrifice made. One of those heroes: I honor and salute the sacrifice of our Founding Fathers, and those who proudly serve this country today. Those men and women are but one reason why this country is great. Cassandra at Villainous Company put it best:
The whole post by Cassandra should be required reading, please check it out. And with that, I wish you all a Happy 4th of July. While watching those fireworks tonight don’t forget to start that new ritual, recite the preamble of the Constitution.
O'er The Ramparts We Watched….Happy Independence Day Everyone. I’m off to a parade   EXIT QUESTION: Which one of these two kids is running for President in 35yrs or so?
Americans for McCain“There is no white America. There is no black America. There is no Latino America. There is no Asian America. There is just the United States of America.” -Senator Barack Obama I’m offended by the Candidate of Unity… I was hoping he’d be a different kind of candidate…one who would be all things to all people. But look here. Do you feel left out of the Hyphe Nation? Why no “Muslims for Obama”? Why no “Trial Lawyers for Obama”? Why no “Teachers Union for Obama”? “Biracials for Obama”? “Photographers for Obama”? “Journalists for Obama”? “Surfers for Obama” (in ‘04, I saw “surfers for Kerry” stickers, I kid you not!)? “Grannies for Obama”? “Climate Change Scientists for Obama”? “Homeless for Obama”? “Millionaires for Obama”? “Billionaires for Obama”? “Hollywood for Obama”? What’s neat, is I could actually fit into several categories: “People born on Feb 27th for Obama”…..”40-somethings for Obama”….”UCLA alumni for Obama”…..”Californians for Obama”….”Bloggers for Obama”….”Origami Paperfolders for Obama”…..”Gymnasts for Obama”….if only his campaign would get on the ball, I could support them by buying up several buttons to represent all the categories I fall under; it’d be more fun than stamp collecting. I could plaster my car to look like a hippie mobile with multiple “(Fill in the Blank) for Obama” bumperstickers. The more I have, the more the illusion that more and more people of diverse backgrounds supports the Messiah of Messy Unity. Where are the stickers to represent “Gunowners for Obama“? They have “Republicans for Obama”, so I can’t understand, for the life of me, why they can’t also have “Pro-lifers for Obama”, represented. Can’t Castro and Chavez sport around a nifty “Dictators for Obama” baseball cap? Why not go international? “Germans for Obama“…..”Obama Japan for Obama“….”Europeans for Obama“…..”Brits for Obama”….”Illegal aliens Undocumented Immigrants for Obama”…. Since the only categories he lists in his “peoples section” on his campaign website are the following: Asian American Pacific Islanders for Obama
I guess it’s up to Americans Abroad to insure that we meet the “global test” ) Environmentalists for Obama
Uh, yeah….good luck with that. I didn’t know what a “First American” was until I read it here. I thought “Native Americans” was PC enough to distinguish between your generic “Indian” and confusion over “Indian-Americans” from India…. So who were the “Second Americans”? Vikings? Or were they first? I’m so confused…. Generation Obama
Our veterans do deserve the very best care. Not just lip service….and political spin. Michael Medved on on Soldiers and Suicide:
Also, read this from CJ, regarding Question 21. Women for Obama On the website:
In the news:
Whoa….man! That’s it?!?! What a short list of special interest groups….so many are left out; so much potential for hurt feelings, inferiority complex, and alienation. This is the divisiveness of diversity. Why not simply unite the country under one slogan: “Americans for Obama”? That would be keeping the message simple. That would be true unity. But maybe that would look too simple….like only one group (AMERICANS!!!!!!) supports Obama rather than a multi-coalition of different groups and interests. Hat tip to Mata Harley, who still smarts over the fact that Senator Obama snubbed her by not having “Harley Riders for Obama” featured on his campaign website. (suggestion for sticker slogan: “Senator Obama: we harley knew thee”) Admittedly, McCain does have his special interest section too: “Lawyers for McCain” and “Veterans for McCain”. But the maverick senator of Arizona gets a pass….those classifications are not based upon the superficiality of race and gender identity, and over-indulging “feel good” abundance.
Start a new ritual… Recite the Preamble of the Constitution during fireworksI’m into relatively quiet celebrations myself. But there is one ritual to which I am faithful annually. When the “rockets red glare and bombs bursting in air” commence for 4th of July celebrations… whether I am there to watch, or just hear in the distance in the quiet of the eve… I always recite the Preamble of our US Constitution. (I guess because these senior moment brain cells can’t manage to retain the 273 words to the Introduction/Preamble of the Declaration…) I do so specifically to remind me that the 4th of July is not about the BBQs we enjoy, or the colors dancing in the sky that we never associate with bombs of war, but instead fill us with awe and excitement. These simple pleasures of our daily lives are merely the fruits of what many brave souls secured for us when thirteen colonies decided to defy England, and create a new nation on July 4th, 1776. Resulting from our predecessors’ signatures on the Declaration of Independence, and their extraordinary dedication to creating “the land of the free, and home of the brave,” our current US Constitution - creating an entirely unique government of “We the people” - was drafted 11 years later. Our place in history as a nation was born. As a child of 1950s-60s education, we were required to memorize the Preamble to the Constitution… and to this day, I’ve never forgotten. So if you’re looking for a private and quiet reminder of the true importance of this day, I invite you to share my own, longstanding ritual. Perhaps we can start a trend, yes? If you’ve forgotten, it’s posted below to remind you. And may this Independence Day be filled with the blessings of Freedom for you all.
Samuel Adams: Signer of the Declaration and American PatriotDeclaration of Independence
That reminded me of the wisdom of one of my favorite original signers: Samuel Adams of Massachusetts (bio from Library of Congress). Here assembled are several quotes of Mr. Adams’ wisdom. What strikes me most is how these words still ring with truth today. They are also “self evident” and can fit a variety of discussions of today’s political issues. As a tribute to the Declaration , I would like to reflect on the words of one of the signers: Samuel Adams of Massachusetts:
Reader Question: Which is your favorite Samuel Adams quote and how do you see it in relation to today’s political discussions?
Obama: The Biggest Flip Flop of All?It all depends on what the meaning of the word “refine” is. Is Obama about to drop his longstanding promise to end the war in Iraq in 2009 if elected? Today certainly must have been a distressing day for Obamatons who had concerns about his flip flops on so many issues lately, but thought they could count on him to withdraw in Iraq.
As Allahpundit points out, this isn’t the first time Obama has fudged on Iraq. And it’s got his lefty base of defeatists worried that the worst flip flop of all is about to fall. Is this the “change” that the Obamatons so desperately want to believe in? Or is it the unmasking of a charlatan who successfully bamboozled and dazzled millions into believing he was something new: a politician they could trust? It will be interesting to see the reaction from liberals like Political Overload, who are already on edge about Obama. Hope After Obama
That’s change you can believe in.
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