Ashley and I recently traveled to Korea to join my mother’s side family in celebrating my halmoni’s (grandma’s) 90th birthday.  Yup, they live quite long on that side of the family.  It was great being able to see halmoni again, especially on this very special occasion.

During our trip, Ashley and I went to eat sahn nakji (live octopus).  They chopped it up for us, and the squirming tentacles made it a little difficult to grab them with the chopsticks.  It was interesting eating something that could fight back.  The sensation was kind of odd, but it was tasty, and I couldn’t help feeling a little adventurous.  Maybe not Captain Nemo adventurous, but still…

I’ve finally done it.  After years of missed opportunities and half-hearted attempts to study on my own, I’ve finally enrolled in a Korean language class.  Why now?  Well, aside from the lingering dull ache of guilt, what motivated me now relates to family.

My wife speaks fluent Korean and comes from a very traditional Korean family, who speak Korean exclusively to each other.  My in-laws have been incredibly kind and welcoming since we first met, but communicating hasn’t exactly been easy.  And, of course, learning Korean means I could communicate with my own aunts, uncles, etc. more easily.

I actually spoke Korean when I was a young child, but as I entered school, my parents made a conscious decision to speak primarily English to me, so as not to interfere with my language development.  Eventually, my Korean language skills atrophied from non-use until all that remained was a pitifully small collection of words and phrases that rarely did me any good.  When Ashley and I have kids, we want them to be able to speak Korean with their grandparents and other relatives, and it would help a lot if I was ahead of our kids on the learning curve.  Until they inevitably catch up with and pass me, hopefully not until they’re at least 5 or 6 years old.

The class I’m taking is offered by the Korean Cultural Center of Los Angeles.  It’s a great deal: $40 for a 10-week session with levels ranging from Basic to Advanced.  I’m in Basic B, which is primarily for Korean-Americans who, like me, know the alphabet and can read a little, speak a little and understand a little, as well as non-Koreans who advanced from Basic A.  Our instructor is perfect for our class — he’s a 1.5-generation K-A who had to re-learn Korean himself, so he understands where we’re coming from and how best to approach the language from our context.

I don’t expect ever to be fluent, but that’s not my goal.  I’d just like to be able to carry on a short, simple conversation and understand when someone’s talking s**t about me.  Is that so much to ask?

The news that ex-football player Darryl Stingley had passed away carried extra meaning for me, since I was at the game nearly 30 years ago when he was paralyzed by a vicious hit from the Raiders’ Jack Tatum.  The Oakland-New England exhibition game was the first NFL game I ever attended, but it was Stingley’s devastating injury that has stuck with me over the years.

Tatum always had a reputation as a merciless hitter, crushing receivers as they dared to come across the middle.  While he may not have intended to hurt Stingley to the degree he did, the fact that he celebrated his reputation and nickname “Assassin” in the book he later wrote left a bitter taste in my mouth.

In the past few months, the Broncos have suffered the tragic loss of two players, Darrent Williams and Damien Nash.  As a fan, their deaths, especially Williams’s senseless murder, hit especially close to home.  As a fan, football can represent an escape from reality, but reality is always there, whether on the field or off it, ready to end a career or a life.  As a fan, I acknowledge that sad fact, even as I wait for the upcoming NFL draft and the new season.  I just hope this kind of reality keeps its distance from the Broncos for a while.

On a Sunday morning last year, I saw this guy directing traffic on Western:

It really is hard out there for a pimp, having to get a second job to pay for the bling.  I was going to say something about his girls living hand-to-mouth, but decided discretion is the better part of valor.

After gazing into my crystal (meth) ball, I’ve come up with 10 random predictions for 2007:

10. Mel Gibson will release Apocalypto on DVD under its original title: Mayan Kampf.
9. Donald Rumsfeld will be named the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts.
8. Starbucks will run out of space and have to open a store inside an existing Starbucks, creating an overpriced rift in the space-time continuum.
7. The Wizard of Oz will pay a belated visit to the White House to give George W. Bush a brain, Dick Cheney a heart, and Condi Rice courage, but will be labeled an enemy combatant and sent to an undisclosed location for “rigorous interrogation.”
6. A young man’s wish to be reincarnated as a pair of Britney Spears’s undies backfires when he is never seen again.
5. Osama bin Laden will finally be found in the grotto at the Playboy Mansion, showing Miss February his personal “improvised exploding device.”
4. Kim Jong Il will launch a nuclear missile which falls short of the U.S. and hits the island from “Lost”, putting the show’s fans out of their misery.
3. Lindsay Lohan will give up alcohol and partying and find Jesus. A week later, Lindsay and Jesus will be spotted staggering out of a nightclub and puking up mojitos.
2. On “Grey’s Anatomy”, Meredith and McDreamy will have a baby, McPreemie.
1. I will save Steve Jobs’s life, and he will thank me by developing a personalized new Apple product: the iClaude (not sure what it does, but the ads will be cool).

A couple of weeks ago, Ashley and I attended Koream Journal’s annual black-tie event honoring the achievements of Korean-Americans (and-Canadians).  Sandra Oh (Grey’s Anatomy) accepted her award via video from fellow Canadian and TV’s hottest artificial lifeform, Grace Park.  The music honoree was Joe Hahn from Linkin (no relation to Grace) Park, and the sports honoree was freestyle-skiing medalist Toby Dawson.  But the most impressive figure there that night, in my opinion, was seated to my left: Dr. Sammy Lee.

It’s understandable if you’re unfamiliar with Sammy Lee and his accomplishments.  He may not be as famous as Jesse Owens or Jim Thorpe, but Sammy Lee is a true pioneer, not only in American sports, but in American history.  He was the first Asian-American to win an Olympic gold medal for the U.S.  He won back-to-back gold medals in platform diving in 1948 and 1952, plus a bronze in springboard diving in 1948.

What makes Sammy’s accomplishments even more impressive is the fact that he achieved them in the face of blatant prejudice and discrimination.  In addition, he went to medical school and was a U.S. Army doctor when he competed in the Olympics.  Naturally, I was honored to sit next to him and speak with him.  Even better, he turned out to have a mischievous and salty personality.  My kind of guy.

Sammy is seated, bottom left, in the picture below.

This past weekend was not a good one for me as a football fan. Both my college team, Cal, and my NFL team, the Denver Broncos, lost crucial games. Cal fell to USC and the Broncos lost to the Chargers. Both teams blew 2nd half leads. A victory for Cal would have meant a trip to the Rose Bowl for the first time in nearly 50 years, while Denver’s loss gave rival San Diego the AFC West lead and made the Broncos’ playoff run that much harder.

Disappointment is an inevitable part of being a sports fan. Mine isn’t even the kind which plagues fans of perennial losers, such as the Arizona Cardinals or Colorado Rockies. My teams have actually done pretty well most of the season. But their relative success only creates false hopes of championships, which are ultimately replaced by the stark realization that they just aren’t quite good enough to reach that level.

It reminds me of that great scene in one of my favorite movies, The Right Stuff: Chuck Yeager (Sam Shepard) pushes his test jet to the limit, climbing all the way into the upper stratosphere. Just as he catches a glimpse of outer space, the plane’s engines suffocate and die, sending him plummeting back to earth like a modern-day Icarus. What lifts a spacecraft beyond the pull of gravity is escape velocity. Yeager didn’t have it, and this year, at least, neither does Cal or Denver. All three glimpsed the glory of that next level, only to reach their limits and fall short.

I realize this is all somewhat overblown. It overlooks the teams’ accomplishments and, after all, it’s only football. But if my emotions didn’t swing with my teams’ fortunes, I wouldn’t be much of a fan. In the end, all I can do is keep rooting for my teams, hoping one day they will find enough thrust to slip the surly bonds of gravity and catch up with our championship dreams.

Puerto Rico 017

Originally uploaded by claudezilla.

Ashley and me standing in front of a landmark in Old San Juan.  More photos from the trip available to view here.

Hole 16 green

Originally uploaded by claudezilla.

This is the view I played the Ocean Course for.

I stepped off the plane and was instantly smothered by the heavy, humid air.  This was Puerto Rico.  It reminded me of Hawaii, with a Spanish twist.  My lovely wife, Ashley, was here to attend a conference, while I was here to play golf and drink rum, maybe even simultaneously.  While Ashley had to sit through mind-numbing sessions, I hacked my way through one of the hotel’s two golf courses, picking up an atrocious score and a slight sunburn.  At night, we had receptions and a banquet, drank pina coladas and mojitos, and mingled with her industry colleagues.

On our last full day there, we were able to visit Old San Juan and do a little requisite tourist shopping and sightseeing.  We stopped for lunch at a place called Barrachina, where I had a random celebrity sighting: porn legend Ron Jeremy.  He walked over to me and said, “Hey, good to see you again.  When are you going to unretire?  We miss you.”  Okay, that didn’t happen.  But it sure would’ve freaked the hell out of my wife.