Previous installments of "China Charlie"

(Scroll down this page to find previous postings)

To our Home Page

Posted 28 August 2008

Where do they get those names?? ? ?  ?

            Disclaimer

            Before we get into the question above, those that have been exposed to China Charlie in the past know that I normally avoid using names of people or businesses, but every so often, in the interest of the story  I have no choice.        

     That’s the case with the piece below

            China Charlie

            Recently, I saw a new (what appeared to be a) restaurant, named “La Pluie Wine Club” here in the “Middle Kinkdom”, that raised a couple of questions in my mind.

            The first question was where did they get the name of “La Pluie” for this place?

            Having a mind that’s basically a “warehouse of useless information” with an “off the wall” skew to it, the only place I could think of was a half hour T.V. sitcom from several decades ago (before 1967 when colour showed up on the “small screen”).

The show was originally named the “Andy Griffith Show”, and was followed up by a sequel named “Mayberry RFD”. The show centered around life in a small town named Mayberry located in the U.S. mid south. The main characters in the show were its Sheriff (named "Andy Taylor", played by Andy Griffith) and his Deputy (named "Barney Fife", played by Don Notts)

Andy (the voice of reason) was a laid back widower with a son (named "Opie", played by Ron Howard) who lived with “Aunt Bea”, while Barney was a hyper, super officious individual.

As the deputy, Barney was only allowed to have one bullet (that he had to carry that in his pocket) and was instructed to carry his citation book under his hat. He also had to ask Andy’s permission before he could use the siren or flashing lights on the “squad car”.

 The show also had a full range of other characters, including Floyd the barber, Gomer Pyle (at the Gas Station) and Otis, the town drunk. Otis was given a key to the sheriff’s office and to one of the cells, so he could put himself in jail when he had too much to drink (Mayberry was located in a “dry county”, where any alcohol was illegal)

            O.K., all this is fine, but where do I suspect “La Pluie” came from?  

            As this show was one of my favorites, I wanted my kids to have a chance to see  and laugh at it, so I bought a set of DVD’s entitled “The best of Barney”. This set was of several episodes, including one where a goat eats a few sticks of dynamite from a construction site, winds up with Otis in his private cell, but then escapes. In the course of looking for the goat, Barney expresses concerns for the goat “going Ka’ Blooey” several times.

            This show was (and still is) in syndication in several countries around the world. If the dialogue was translated into French, there’s a good chance that “Ka’ Blooey” could have come out as “La pluie”, and perhaps somehow the owner of the “La Pluie Wine Club picked up on it.

            Yeah, I  know it’s a “stretch”, but how the heck else could he have picked this name.

            My second question is what in the world is a Wine Club?

 Is it a place to go to enjoy setting around getting “fried” on fine wines?

If it is, what in the world is it doing in the “Middle Kinkdom”?

Keep in mind that up until recently, this country had local wines that were suspected of being “aged” with formaldehyde or either (we used to joke about checking the label and commenting that “Tuesday was a good day”, forget looking for a year, month or even a week).

Also up until a few years ago, the connoisseurs here considered expensive Cognac mixed with Sprite as a classy party drink.

I’ve been told that there are some decent local wines here now, and I haven’t seen anyone mixing Cognac with soft drinks in quite a while, but I suspect that without a catchy name, a true “Wine Club” would have a difficult time.

Posted 21 August 2008

 Of Scents and Sense… . . .  .  .

            There’s a program on one of the cable networks this season that describes some of the more distasteful occupations out there, but I’m sure they didn’t (or won’t) cover the occupation of  “scent smeller”. A recent happening showed me that there should be such an occupation, but not everyone would really be qualified.

           Not too long ago, I had a friend ask me take a whiff of some new After Shave cologne that was advertised as specifically scented for “Mature Men”. This stuff had an odor slightly reminiscent of a “French House of Ill Repute” mixed with Horse Sweat (not that I’ve ever been in a “French House of Ill Repute”, or for that matter any “House of Ill Repute”-some pretty smelly smoke filled beer joints with some “ladies of the night” hangin’ ‘round, but never a true “House of Ill Repute”).

            The major problem with having me sniff this stuff is that at this point in my life, I passed being a “Mature Man” sometime a decade or so back, and am at the stage where most men start regressing towards childhood. Given this I’m not sure if I would be qualified to judge a scent aimed at the “Mature” Market. Besides, what the heck is a “Mature Man” supposed to smell like?

            I decided to look at the combination of odors that make up the essence of the average “Mature Man”, and in the process question some of the “facts” concerning “Maturity”

            I’ve seen medical studies that indicate that a person (man or woman) stops growing (except for their nose and ears), sometime around their 30^th birthday and start to shrink with age.

I’m reasonably sure this is not necessarily so.

Ask anyone on the wrong side of 60 if it’s as easy to bend over and pick up something on the floor as it was when they were 30 or 40, and they’ll tell you it’s a whole lot more difficult “than it used to be”. To me this indicates that a person actually grows taller as they get older, making it more difficult to reach the floor. This phenomenon of not being able to reach their feet when taking a shower anymore leads to a fair build up of “Toe Jam” in “Mature” people which is one of the basic scents surrounding “old guys”

Most “Mature Men” that I’ve been around also tend to pass gas at the most inopportune times, and as this tends to leave a certain residual odor not only in the atmosphere but in their clothes, it adds another aroma to the air that surrounds “old dudes”.

Another thing about most “Mature Men” is that a large part of the mature population have “store bought” plastic teeth.

This has a positive side, in that if someone complains and tells a “Mature Dude” to “go brush his teeth”, he can take them out, hand them to the complainer and tell them “you want them brushed, you do it”. The “downside” of plastic teeth is something called “Denture Breath” (AKA “Dragon Breath”), that most Mature People live with.

If you combine the odors from (1) Toe Jam, (2) residuals from passed gas and (3) Denture Breath, it can result in a semi toxic combination of scents. Add in the smell of used cigarette smoke from mature smokers, and it really gets odoriferous. We can thank the gods that this combination of odors is generally in the atmosphere in parts per million small enough to be well below toxic levels, and is treatable. Generally soap, or toothpaste and water will at least temporarily correct the problem until to next gastric eruption or snack..

To me this combination pretty well sums up the air of the “Mature Men”. I’m reasonably sure that what the people developing a smell for “Mature Men” wanted to make was a scent that would cover or at least blend with the combination, but somehow “missed the mark”

. Also somehow, I doubt that I’ll ever be asked to pass judgment on any scent.

O.K., so what does sense have to do with the dissertation above, you say? 

Absolutely nothing at all. It was included in the heading for this only because I thought it made it sound sorta’ legitimate.

   Posted 20 June

A day in the life of… . . .  .  .

            A few years ago, there was a series of books of photographic studies, that the titles started with “A day in the life  

of ... .  .”, that photographically followed an average person through an average day, some where in the world.

            O.K., so I was a teenager in the “fabulous fifty’s” (1950’s that is) and every so often get all misty eyed and nostalgic about some of the iconic things and advertising slogans of that era in North America that seem to have gone the way of  ”Willkie (campaign) Buttons” (Wendell L. Willkie was the unsuccessful candidate running against Franklin Roosevelt in the 1940 U.S. Presidential election).

In the midst of one of these reveries, I got to thinking what it would have been for an advertising man to do “A day in the life of a person in North America”, from the prospective of the advertising in the 1950’s and 1960’s, so here goes.

            Getting ready to go out into the world each day, after brushing your teeth with Pepsodent Tooth Paste (“you’ll wonder where the yellow went, if you brush your teeth with Pepsodent”)  if you were a lady, you were advised to use Ivory Soap (that was “99 and 44, 100% pure”), and Clairol Shampoo (“Does she, or doesn’t she?”)

            If you were a guy, you were advised by Gillette Blue Blades to “Look Sharp, Feel Sharp, Be Sharp”. And who could ignore the warnings of Brylcreem (a men’s hairdressing that advised “A little dab’ll do ya’”), or Hi Karate (a men’s after shave that had self-defense instructions with each bottle), that too much could make you irresistible to women and lead to possible attacks. Or the sexy lady that told you that “There’s something about an Aqua Velva Man” (Aqua Velva was another aftershave).

             This was just before you slipped into your Jockey Shorts (“The best seat in the house”), and had your Quaker Puffed Rice or Puffed Wheat (that was “Shot from Guns”). Of course you needed to put some Borden’s Milk (“If it’s Borden’s, it’s got to be good”) on your cereal, and spread some Smucker’s Jam (“With a name like Smucker’s, it has to be good”) on your Wonder Bread Toast.

            After you finished eating, you’d lite up a Lucky Strike (“LSMFT  Lucky Strike Means Fine Tobacco”) or Old Gold ( for “A treat instead of a treatment”) Cigarette, while the ladies checked to be sure they had put the  Duz Laundry Soap (“Duz does everything”) in the Westinghouse washer (“You can be sure if it’s Westinghouse”).

            After all of this, you’d go out to take Dinah Shore’s lyrical advice to “See the U.S.A. in your Chevrolet”.

            At lunch time you might have a Tuna Salad Sandwich made with Star Kist Tuna (“Sorry Charlie, Star Kist only wants Tuna that tastes good, not Tuna with good taste”), and a cold Miller (“The champagne of bottled beer”), Schlitz (“The beer that made Milwaukee famous”) or Carling’s Black Label (“Hey Mabel, Black Label”) beer.

            Later in the afternoon, you might “sneak” in a Pepsi Cola (with “More bounce to the once”).

            For dinner, you might have a pasta dish of some variety that had a sauce made with Contadina Tomato Paste (“How did they get eight great tomato’s in that little bitty can”) and then set down to watch the Sid Caesar's “Show of shows” on your RCA T.V. (“His master’s voice”), sponsored by Nestle’s (“N-E-S-T-L-E-S, Nestle’s  makes the very best shaucolte [a slurred choclate]”).

            That pretty well covers an ad man’s version of a typical 1950-1960’s day in ‘merican life.

            An interesting foot note to this is that in the beginning, I wrote a note about the 1940 U.S. Presidential election that was won by Franklin D. Roosevelt. In his first inaugural speech in 1932, he used the phrase “we have nothing to fear, but fear itself”. Ironically, recently I was in a Southeast Asian country that was having an election, and saw the quote on a political poster (correctly attributed to Franklin D. Roosevelt). After 76 years, that statement's still pretty much true.

          Until next time, ya’ll have a rice day

  Posted 21 May

                                               Wasn’t that a party??? ?  ?

            O.K. so this one happened a long time ago, but it still has a certain “off the wall” humor to it.

            I mean there I was, on a bus on my way into China, listening to a "shady"  MP3 download of an old vocal group called “The Irish Rover’s” doing a song titled “Wasn’t that a party” that reminded me of a friend’s experience 40+ years ago..

As is pretty typical in this part of the world, I was listening to the song on an "iffy" version of a very popular MP 4 player, camera, radio and video recorder

            The song I was listening to  has to do with a party that “got out of hand’, and wound up with the lead singer telling the judge that it would take the 90 days he was just sentenced to for being drunk and disorderly, just to recover from the party. In the song, somewhere along the way someone wore a grapefruit like a hat, had a conversation about Hockey with a cat, was blowing a siren from a police car in his back yard, etc.

            Getting back to semi reality, before I was married the first time, I had a friend that was known to have more than a few “brews”, and sometimes would have to ask someone else if he had a good time the night before, or not.

            In any case, my girl friend at the time had a friend named Murphy that my buddy got interested in, and one weekend her family had a party. The morning after the party, I got a call from my buddy asking if I could give him a ride to her place.

            It seems that somehow, after having just a bit too much to drink the night before, he had gotten a ride home from the party, and thought he remembered leaving his car parked in front of the Murphy house.

And, Oh by the way, he wasn’t sure where his shoes were either.

Anyway, I picked him up and drove him to the site of the previous evening’s drunken frivolity. While I had seen my buddy in action and visited various sites of his good times before, I really wasn’t prepared for what I walked into that particular morning. We arrived at the Murphy household about the time they were setting down to a late breakfast that someone thought should include some runny scrambled eggs, that had a good part of the folks at the table looking a “little green around the gills”.

In addition, Grandpa Murphy looking a little “sunkin’ in”, in the face. Apparently, sometime during the festive chaos the evening before, he had decided that he should take his false teeth out, but couldn’t remember where he left them. If you wear dentures and have tried to consume anything reasonably solid without them, you’d understand the scrambled eggs that particular morning.

After spending a good part of the morning looking for my buddy’s shoes (and eventually finding them on the back porch), we left. As we were leaving, most of the Murphy household was still looking for Grandpa’s teeth, while “Mama Murphy” was preparing a lunch of puree of something or other in a blender.

I understand that they did find Grandpa’s teeth later that afternoon, in the "dust bunnies" under the sofa, but no one ever did figure out how they got there.

This same buddy had a “few too many” at a surprise birthday party a year or so later, and decided to climb a small tree. The tree was limber enough that it didn’t break under his weight, but did bend double, and left him clinging to the top of it, while basically standing on his head.

While the song by the Irish Rovers came out a couple of years later, I’m not sure if the party and events of the next morning at the Murphy residence or the tree climbing incident had anything to do with the lyric (there was no mention of lost teeth or bending trees in the song, although the lyric does make reference to someone cutting down his neighbor’s tree).

Wasn’t that a party?? ?

Posted 30 April

                                                                   I know nothing, Nothing!!! ! !  !    

I’m “in to” old movies and old T.V. Series, and recently while watching “Those Magnificent Men in their Flying Machines” (a comedy about an air race, between London and Paris in 1910) my wife commented about the way the German (military) Team was portrayed as a group of bumbling buffoons.

 I also happen to enjoy watching the old series “Hogan’s Hero’s”, that’s based on a bunch of allied prisoners of war in Stalag 13 (a prison camp), during World War II. This group was lead by an American named Hogan (played by Bob Crain) that outwitted the German Commandant (Col. Klink AKA Werner Klemper) and the Sergeant of the Guard (Sgt Schultz AKA John Banner) on a weekly basis over several T.V. Seasons

Any time the German Commandant or the Sergeant got in Hogan’s way, he would suggest that they consider what life would be like on the “Russian Front” (after more than 40 years, you still hear people quoting Sgt Schultz, with “I know nothing-nothing!!”).  This series was aired in the late 1960s, and was in fact based on an very un-funny allied operation that was based in the real Stalag 13 and lead by a U.S. Air Force Col. named Hogan

Personally, I’ve always viewed these characterizations as they’re intended-a humorous caricature that’s part of a parody of life in general, In reality, I found out that contrary to all we were taught, it was not all that regimented in the German Armed Forces during World War II.

During the 1960’s I worked with a friend that had immigrated to the U.S. from Germany after the war, and had served with the Luftwaffe in Poland. Apparently he was originally assigned as a (rear facing) Gunner on the notorious Stukka dive bombers, but was grounded because he shot part of the rudder (“vertical fin” for you aeronuts) and radio antennas off a couple of trainer planes.

He always enjoyed relating a story about his time “on the Russian Front”, that involved a commander that believed in a strict military separation of officers and enlisted men, and the supply problems that the German military had on the Eastern Front".

It seems that one of the items that was always in short supply was socks, and that as a substitute they came up with a triangular piece of fabric that they would wrap around a soldier’s foot if he didn’t have socks. For the sake of this story, we’ll call it a “triangle”.

Through the “grapevine”, the commanders in a unit stationed on the “Russian Front” found out that they were going to be “inspected” by a general from Berlin, who believed that commanders needed to associate with the troops in their command, and to know them well. This unit had (as was above) one commander that refused to associate with his troops out side of the military structure, and the other commanders wondered how he would handle the General’s visit.

The day of the visit by the General, all the troops of the unit were lined up for inspection, and the general started down the line asking commanders to demonstrate how well he knew the men in his command. When he got to the commander that believed he was better than his men, the commander bragged that he knew his men well enough to know who had socks and who was wearing the “triangle”. Of course, the General took the challenge, and started down the line, randomly asking the commander who had socks and who didn’t. He would stop at a man in the ranks, ask the commander what he was wearing, and then have the soldier prove what they were wearing by removing a boot. Surprisingly, the commander was 100% correct in his knowledge of what his men had on.

After the General left, knowing this officers attitude, his fellow commanders asked how in the world he did it. His answer was “Simple. This morning I ordered each man to put a sock on one foot, and a ‘triangle’ on the other. When I told the General what he had on, the soldier would remove the boot that had the correct one in it.”

I guess they weren’t all bumbling buffoons… . . . .  .  .

Posted 30 March 2008

The Devil’s playground, or don’t these guys have something better to do?? ?  ?

        There are those that claim that the idle mind is the devil’s playground. Several years ago, a buddy of mine and I seemed to confirm this statement (but then, of course we had added the influence of several beers to the idle warped minds that reside in our craniums)

            In the late 1980’s and early 90s, I was working for a major U.S. footwear company that had their primary source of product in an area of the “Middle Kinkdom” about half way between Hong Kong and Shanghai. While this area was (and still is) the home to many factories producing footwear and garments, it was never a center of entertainment, so if you were “stuck” there, you had to make your own.

           Quite often an evening’s activities would include such fun things as trying to drink all of a single brand of beer in a bar, seeing  how many turns you could get with a snack plate that had a “dimple” molded in (that allowed it to spin like a top), calculating the total combined weight of all the female human mammary’s in the country (2264 metric tons), etc.

            Now, I’ve always maintained that most North Americans (“Gwailoh’s”) who come to the “Middle Kinkdom” and can speak the local language have hemorrhoids for brains and should use Preparation H to remove their earwax, but I have “run across” a few exceptions.

            One Saturday Night, I was stuck in this entertainment capital of Southeast Asia with one of the few decent aforementioned “Gwaiohs” (employed as a trademark security person by the same company as I was). We were taking on the hotel bars’ supply of the local brew, when we “hatched” a practical joke of major proportions.

            It seemed that just after going through a divorce, his boss had come to Southeast Asia on a tour to check out the trademark infringement problems in the area. He had returned to North America a week or so earlier, and after consuming the hotel bars’ entire inventory of the local “suds”, we decided we really needed to do something to cheer him up.

            The following week, my compatriot was heading off to one of the other Southeastern Asian countries, that’s known for its Topless Bars, live exhibitions of the act of human procreation, darts shot across a room using an unusual “shooter”, and such. We decided that my buddy’s boss needed a friendly note from this country, and settled on the idea of a Post Card with a Topless girl on it, to be sent to his office.

            During his trip the next week, my co-conspirator followed up on our plan. He purchased the postcard with a picture of a rather well endowed Lass on the front, took it to one of the local “clubs”, had one of the “hostess’s” write a message on the back concerning how much she had enjoyed the boss’s visit and how she was looking forward to seeing him again, put postage on the card and dropped in a postal box.

            I’m not sure of the other guy, but I had forgotten about it until a little over two months later, when my phone rang in the middle of the night. When I answered it, the voice on the other end said “You did it. You and that fool that works for me did it. I know you did it, but I can’t prove it”. Being a little confused, I asked who was calling and what was he talking about. The voice identified itself as my buddy’s boss, and he started to laugh (thank God he had a sense of humor)..

            The office that he worked in had several hundred people in it, and from the way he described the condition of the card, when he received it, it looked as though every one of them had read it before it was delivered to his desk. He told me that the card was badly “dog eared”, the writing was badly faded, (and a bit smeared) and that it helped explain why most of the female employees had “that silly smirk” on their faces, when they talked to him.

           We all had a good laugh, but we never repeated this practical joke again (mainly because it got to be too well known, and would have been spotted right away). Besides, my partner in this little episode and I had a few other ideas to try.

        Until next time “Y’all have a rice week now”

Posted 21 March 2008

Wingnuts.. . .  .  .   .

O.K., so it’s finally Spring.

You know, the season that causes a young man’s fancy to turn to thoughts of... . . . (well we won’t go into that) It’s also is the season when the Iron in your blood turns to lead in your butt, and if you’re on the wrong side of 60, living in the “Middle Kinkdom”, for some people their brain turns to mush.

Such was the case with a group of old “China Hands” that would get together for a late Sunday breakfast a few years ago. While normally issues of importance to the survival of the world would be discussed, this particular Sunday the subject turned to a serious conversation about the Radio Control toys available in a local toy store. The group discussed the radio control cars, boats and airplanes that were available, and before long 3 of the guys decided that they would “go together” (split the cost) of an R/C airplane. The plane they selected was battery powered and had a cost of approximately 20 U.S. dollars (big spenders, this bunch).

The next week they brought the plane (fully charged) into the coffee shop where we met for breakfast, so they could proudly display their joint purchase. It set there majestically, in it’s putrid shade of yellow, admired  (sort of) by all. The power for this particular aircraft was a small electric motor with a 3 bladed propeller on the trailing edge of each wing.

In retrospect, as most of the World War II bombers had girl's names, we should have followed tradition, and named it the “Amelia Erhart” (as it turned out, this plane was more of a "bomb" than a bomber).

As one of the “owners” had a pilot’s license, it was decided that he should take the plane “up” on its maiden flight. With the instructions written only in a language that none of us could read, nobody in the group knew that the controller "sticks" controlled the power on each motor individually, and that to make the plane gain altitude, you had to push both of the control levers the same distance forward at the same time, and match the distance (if one was further forward than the other it made the plane turn, and if you pulled one (or both) back the plane would dive.

As they were leaving, one of the guys suggested to the pilot and his assistant that they wait until they got to the area selected for the flight, and not try to get it off the ground in an adjacent parking lot. As soon as they were out of sight, they tried to get the plane into the air in the parking lot, and flew it into the side of a parked car at an altitude of about 2 feet. The plane and the car suffered minor damage, but both were judged safe for further operation.

We convinced the pilot to hold his take off until they got to the area that we had deemed safe for aircraft operation, and also warned his assistant about keeping his fingers clear of the spinning plastic propellers-when he turned his head to ask "What?" he stuck one of his fingers into the path of the “prop” and wound up with a “Bandaid battle ribbon” as a reward for his efforts.

By the time they were ready for “take off” our activities had attracted a fair size audience (the folks here in the “Middle Kinkdom” will stop to watch most anything). The “pilot” pushed both of the control "sticks" to the “stops” and the plane shot out of the assistant’s bandaged hands and into the air.

 When the “pilot” was satisfied that the plane had reached a reasonable altitude (about 10 seconds into the flight,and at about 30 feet) he backed off one of the control sticks, and the plane promptly banked into an unexpected turn, headed around the corner of a building. I was able to control my laughing long enough to remind the “pilot” that the radioncontrol units on these things were “line of sight”, and that as soon as he couldn’t see the plane, it would be out of his control. By this time the plane was just about out of his sight (behind the building), so he took off chasing it at a dead run.

As the rest of us were laughing too hard to run as fast as he did (which still wasn’t quite fast enough to keep up with the plane), by the time we got around the corner of the building, he was standing in the middle of the street looking for the plane. Actually, it was fairly easy to see the basic track of the plane, by matching the direction that most of the pedestrians were looking.

We finally found the plane, stuck in a tree, and paid a young guy to climb up and get it.

After a few more flights that ended with the plane stuck into various other things, and being patched back together with a fair amount of transparent tape and some guys business card, the pilot “got the hang of it”, and just before Sundown it made its last controlled flight.

The thing actually flew out of the transmitter range without hitting anything and the last we saw of it, it was heading off in the direction of the Public Security Bureau  headquarters (a Government Security Branch), and into the setting Sun never to be seen again.

Maybe we should have named it the “Amelia Erhart”… . . .  .

 Posted 1 March 2008

                                     The Mad Frenchman of Lan Kwai Fung

            When I started introducing my current wife (yes, there has been more than one) to my friends, she asked the question “do you know anyone that’s not a character?” I hadn’t really given it much thought, but with my lifestyle, I guess I have been drawn to some of the more “unusual” folks that seem to be part of living outside your home environment.

            One of the more unusual characters I’ve met, was a French Chef that I met in two countries, and was enough of a character that he “made” the Hong Kong newspapers more than once (including a feature on his life).

            For the sake of confidentiality, I won’t use his real name, but I’m sure that anyone that lived in Hong Kong in the early 90’s will recognize the story and know who this piece is about. For this story, we’ll call him “Pierre”.

            It seems that Pierre was involved in the French Resistance towards the end of the German Occupation during World War II. According to the story, he was captured and was scheduled to be executed, but was saved when the Allied Army marched through Paris, and drove the Germans out.

            Again, according to the story, after the war, Pierre wound up in North Africa, in (French) Algeria during the problems between the French and Algerians over independence. The newspaper article also mentioned that he was married to an Algerian Lady during this time.

            After the problems in North Africa, he returned to France, where he had one of the more popular radio shows for a few years and became a certified chef.

            I first met this guy while I was living in South Korea in the mid 1980’s, when he was managing a club for overseas sailors that were “in port”. This was a place where you could get a Cheeseburger made with Blue Cheese, Coffee and a U.S. magazine (or newspaper) for Lunch (Sunday’s it was difficult to get a table). Pierre was also known for his antics, particularly if he walked out of the kitchen (in his chef’s hat, with a cigar in his mouth) and saw a patron that was talking with untouched food in front of him. Pierre would stomp over to the table, and hands on his hips, demand to know why the patron was not eating. Invariably, before he would get an answer, Pierre would go into a tirade about if the person didn’t like his food, to get out (more than once I saw guys escorted to the door before getting their check).

            For some reason, this guy and I seemed to get along pretty well, and established a relationship that probably would be called a friendly acquaintance. At the time, it was rumored that he was secretly married to his Korean Manager (We’ll call her “Miss Kim”). You always knew where he was because in a city known for its narrow streets, he drove a full sized American Mercury Marquis (a big car even by ‘merican standards).

            By the late 1980’s, I had moved to Hong Kong, and in my position, had to do a fair amount of entertaining of visiting business associates, before taking them into China. As the area of Hong Kong called Lan Kwai Fung had the highest concentration of western restaurants, bars and discos, I became familiar with it and a lot of the businessmen there.

            One evening, I “bumped” into Pierre and Miss Kim in Lan Kwai Fung, and we had a chance to talk, It seems Pierre was in fact married to Miss Kim while they were in South Korea, and they had moved to Hong Kong to open a restaurant in Lan Kwai Fung with some other partners, named “Café De Paris”.

            I would see Pierre from time to time, and we would share a few laughs, but it was pretty easy to keep up on his antics in Hong Kong through the newspapers. First there was a couple of articles relating to “the chef coming out of the kitchen with a cigar in his mouth, and ejecting patrons for not eating” (guess who?). Then there was the fight between the partners over control of the “Café De Paris” (that Pierre won).

            At one point he had gained enough notoriety that there were “Pierre” post cards for sale on Hong Kong Island, that had a caricature of Pierre in his chef’s hat and his ever-present cigar in his mouth.

            Through the years, I’ve lost track of Pierre, but I'm reasonably sure that he’s out there somewhere in his chef’s hat, cigar clamped between his teeth, giving some guy that he caught not eating his meal, the “Bums Rush” out of his eatery.

    Pierre, we solute you for being a true character

Posted 15 February 2008

                                                                               How old are these guys?? ?  ?

            In a world of seemingly unending award shows, sometimes I really wonder who determines what performer or performance deserves to be singled out as the best?

            After looking at the selection of “entertainment” on a satellite/cable connection recently, and seeing all the “hoopla” over the “Reality T.V.” shows, I guess it’s O.K. that we're residing in a country that has basically banned English language T.V.. One of the benefits of not being able to view the current fare available on the “tube” is that our kids have a limited exposure to it (my reference to “the Tube” probably pretty well dates me , as the CRT is about to take it’s place in history along with Skate Keys. These days most TV’s are flat screened, LCD or “Plasma”- cripe sakes, I remember when “plasma” was something to do with condensing blood-I am getting old).

            In any case, this lack of “entertainment” in a language that I can understand has led me to the “TV Series” section of my favorite DVD shop, and we have acquired a fair collection of TV shows that have been “in syndication” for at least 2 decades.

            This has also exposed our two children to the likes of “Magnum P.I.”, “The Rockford Files”, “Quincy” (CSI from  the 60s), “Happy Days”, “The Red Skelton Show”, “The Honeymooners” etc.

        While the second season of “The Wild, Wild West” was tops on our daughter’s list for quite a while (the first season was in Black and White), her currently favorite is “Murder She Wrote”. Our son is into “Banacek” (a series about a Polish free lance insurance investigator, that was done in the 70’s, a time when “Pollack Jokes” were the “in thing” in North America).  

My personal favorite is “Peter Gunn” from the mid 50’s. In this series, Craig Stevens played a cool private detective that hung around a Jazz Club named “Mother’s”, where his girlfriend was singing.

Given the type of “cartoons” shown on the cable networks that target children and younger adults (that seem to be primarily focused on violence and destruction), maybe getting “hooked” on the TV shows from a lot of yesterdays ago, isn’t such a bad thing

            This exposure to the likes of “Hogan’s Hero’s” (with John Banner’s classic line “I see nothing, NOTHING!”), “Columbo”, “Baba Black Sheep” (AKA “The Black Sheep Squadron”) , along with their Dad’s enjoyment of  music from the 60’s through the 80’s, and Steam Railroading, has led to some interesting conversations with friends. Recently, while having dinner with a friend, our pre-teen daughter asked who she was imitating (cross eyed, with her chin pulled back with her mouth hanging open). She finally had to tell us that it was one of Red Skelton’s character’s, “Clem Caddlehopper” (and once we knew who she was imitating, it actually was a pretty good one).

            All of this has led me to wonder what’s going to happen 10 to 15 years from now, when these kids are out with their friend’s and they start reminiscing about their favorite entertainment when they were “young”. I suspect that while their friends will have fond memories of “Britney”, “Christina”, “Power Puff Girls” “Scooby Doo” and “Jimmy Neutron”, our kids will be talking about “Reverend Jim and Nardo”, “Radar O’Rielly”, ”Sergeant Shultz”, “Johnny Cash”, "Bing Crosby" and “The Doobie Brothers”, and discussing what a Smoke Stack was.

         One of the series that we have is the original Rod Serling “Twilight Zone”.

        After discussing their memories, I have the feeling that our kids contemporaries will probably feel that the "Twilight Zone" is where they grew up, and wonder how old they actually are.

Posted 30 January 2008

                                                Advertising Hong Kong style, and Lord almighty its cold.. . . .  .

O.K., so by now you know that I’ve changed from China Charlie to the “Jetage Bum”, and expanded my horizons to include some memories of the wackier side of the rest of our world. However, just about the time I figure that it’s time to look outside the “Middle Kinkdom”, something “pops up” in the area that’s just too good to pass up.

Such was the case recently, when I was in Hong Kong, and saw an advertisement on the side of several buses for a new brand of condom, made with a synthetic material. This ad had a picture of one of these “sleeves” tied off  and inflated, with some guy's foot standing on it, looking like some sort of a weird balloon.

If you were to believe a character named “Hermie” in the 1970’s movie “The Summer of ‘42”, these things are to be filled with water, and thrown off a garage roof (close “Hermie”, but no cigar). Of course, this could be one use for them, but not necessarily their reason for being. And neither is blowing them up like a balloon and stepping on them.

While it’s not my place to judge, but the whole thing with this is, have we gone too far with what’s acceptable advertising? I mean on local T.V., you can see rather graphic ads for several different “Breast Enhancing creams” and devices for the ladies to use for the same function, .

Personally, I miss the Marlboro Cowboy that encouraged you to light up one of his “Cancer Sticks” (which eventually killed him), the Phillip Morris page boy with a call for guy named Phillip Morris, a guy “chugging” a glass of Schlitz, or even a stern faced Inspector 57 stretching a pair of Hanes “skivvies” and letting you know that if she says they don’t go, then they don’t go. But, I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to seeing condoms on the side of buses. Ahh well, I guess I’m getting old…. . . .  .

On another subject, it’s turned cold here (at 8:00 A.M., 6 degrees Celsius with 72% humidity and a 35 Km/Hr wind). While this is not considered cold in many parts of the world, in an area with no heat in the buildings, single pane windows, and generally not equipped to handle cold temperatures, it is cold.

While temperatures like this can make a person uncomfortable, the fact that it’s cold is really “driven home” (for the guys) when you’ve forgotten your gloves, been outdoors for several hours, and have to “make a trip to the Men’s Room” (sometimes referred to as the WC or CR). You guys know what I mean.

  Posted 20 January 2008

                                                     Strange sightings in China… . . .  .

            O.K., I know that I wrote in the paragraphs above that writing about the “highway antics” here in China was getting boring. And also, that basically, I was going to start “picking on” other parts of the world, but recently I saw some things on the roads here that caused even someone as “jaded" as yours truly did a “double take” over.

            The first involved a 45 foot container “rig” and one of the major bridges over the Pearl River south of Guangzhou (Canton) on a foggy day.

            About 15 years ago, a ferry service was opened across the Pearl River south of Guangzhou, using several double ended ferries. They have 5 slips (docks) on both sides of the river, and enough “boats’ (I come from the Great Lakes area, where large vessels are referred to as “boats”, not ships) to keep most of the slips busy 24/7. This service has been very popular from the beginning, and is still the preferred way to cross the river today.

            As this service crosses the river on a very busy stretch (between the mouth of the river and Guangzhou, which is an ocean port), during fog it’s curtailed, and if the fog is “heavy”, cancelled. Just downriver” from the ferry slips, they built a major suspension bridge that opened about 10 years ago.

            During fogs that cause cancellation of the ferry service, the bridge gets much busier than normal, and quite often is the sight of monumental traffic jams.

            One of these fogs had “hit” recently, and my driver and I were heading across the bridge, and noticed that there was no traffic at all in the oncoming lanes (as with most bridges this size, the opposing traffic is separated by concrete barriers). Usually no oncoming traffic indicates a major  problem ahead.

            When we got to where we could see what the problem was, we knew what we saw, but neither one of us could figure out how the heck it happened. Somehow the driver of a container “rig” had managed to “jack knife” it on the bridge (on a straight hunk of road). Not only had this guy managed to ”jack knife” on straight road, being he had a 45 foot container behind the tractor, he managed to wedge it in tight between the center barrier and the railing of the bridge.

           As we approached the other end of the bridge, we met a heavy self propelled crane going the wrong way in our lane. I often wondered how long it took to sort that one out.

            Another one that we saw recently was not as spectacular, but had to take some serious patience to sort out.

            During “rush hours” here the single left turn lane at most intersections will spew forth at least 4 lanes of cars jockeying to make left turns, when the traffic signal changes to green. This rapid increase in cars moving side by side making left turns has lead to some interestingly “tortured sheet metal”, but not as interesting one morning recently.

            Some guy making one of the multi-lane left turns ran into the side of left turning armored car. That’s right folks, he ran right into the side of one of those vans with no side or rear windows, gun slots, money and armed men inside, and a number painted on the roof.

            Usually, you’ll see a group of people milling around, shouting and pointing fingers in a case like this, but not this morning. No one was outside the vehicles, and I’m not certain even the police wanted to get too close to the gun slots.

            I suppose they got it sorted out eventually.. .  .  .

Posted 6 January 2008

                                                    You give away what?? ? ?  ?

Having grown up with the likes of the TV Series “Peter Gunn” (who hung out at a Jazz joint called Mother's and had a girl friend that was a singer named Ettie) , and the original Playboy Magazine (as well as Alfred E. Newman and Mad Magazine), I developed quite a taste for good Jazz. Through the years, this has lead to “stunts” like getting on a airplane in Hong Kong on a Friday Morning, flying to a city in the U.S. Pacific Northwest, enjoying an outdoor Jazz Festival Saturday and Sunday, and flying back to Hong Kong the following Monday.

While this may seem a little “over the top”, a couple of decades ago I ran into a guy that made flying to the States for the weekend and a Jazz Festival seem pretty normal.

I was living by myself in Hong Kong at the time on the “Kowloon side”, and the weekends could get pretty “long”. I found that one of the better Jazz Bands (Quintet and “Big Band”) had “jam sessions” in the bar of a hotel on “Hong Kong side” on Sunday afternoons, and pretty soon became a “regular”.

Quite often an evening dinner with friends would start with a “Sunday Afternoon Jam Session”.

As I started to get acquainted with the performers and the other “regulars”, I got to talking to a middle aged Englishman with gray hair in a brush cut, that always showed up in a gray tweed jacket and bowtie, named Pete.

When I asked him what he “did”, his response was “I give away houses”.

I had to ask… . .  “Jeez Pete, that sounds pretty interesting, but how does it work?”

He explained that he was involved in some of the annual training and certification of pilots for a local airline, that was known for service and safety. This particular airline was also known for hiring some very attractive flight attendants from one of the island nations here  in Southeast Asia.

It seems that ‘ole Pete had quite an “eye for the ladies”, and when he would “take a fancy” to one of the flight attendants, he would marry her. Apparently, generally after a couple of years, things would get a little boring and Pete and his lady would have the marriage annulled (there was no divorce in the girl’s home country), and as part of the settlement, Pete would give her a house in her home country.

He told me that at the time, he was working on his third house.

His wife at the time showed up at one of the Sunday Afternoon Jam Sessions, and even from the perspective of 20 years or so, I still have to say that Pete had a pretty good eye.

I’ve often wondered since if ‘ole Pete is still giving houses away?

Posted 30 December 2007

                                                                            I know about trees, well maybe… . .  .

            Now, I come from the Great Lakes area of North America, so really know about trees. I mean I can identify Hickory, Soft Pine, Maple, Cherry, Apple, and Poplar trees. And, I know that, 1) you need to protect the roots on a transplant, with a ball of the dirt it was in, and 2) you trim the top of a tree by climbing up and cutting off the part that you don’t want.

            At least, that’s what I thought…. . . .  .

            In the early 70’s I was in one of Middle Eastern Countries for a year or so, and was working in factory that was about 45 minutes "down"  a new expressway, from the capital city. This expressway had opened just before we arrived, and was still being landscaped.

            One morning, on the way we got behind a tractor trailer truck that was loaded with what looked like sticks, and on the “sticks” was a guy that was throwing one off next to holes spaced along the roadway. The next morning, there were crews, shoveling what looked like Camel dung in to the holes, burying one end of the “sticks”, and giving the whole thing a liberal amount of water.

            The rest of the group I was with (our group consisted of 4 people) were from the same area as me, and we had a good time laughing a these poor guys working so hard with “sticks” that we knew would never sprout a leaf. If they had hears us laughing, they would have had the “last laugh”, when the “sticks started “leafing out”, and within a few months had leafy branches.

            On another occasion a couple of months later, I was shown just how little I did know about trees.

            We had a fourth floor “walk up” apartment on one of the main streets in the capital city of the same Middle Easter Country as the story above. This street had grass and trees planted between the gutters and sidewalks as well as electrical lines overhead. While the trees provided some welcome shade during the summer, they also created some problems for the power lines when they got too tall.

            Apparently, this was the case with one of the trees across from our apartment, as one day a crew showed up with hand trimming saws. At the time there was a lot of construction going on and wheel borrows and ladders were difficult to get, and treasured, if you had one (I saw a couple of guys carrying a wheel borrow between construction sites, to cut down the wear on the wheel bearing).

            In any case, the crew that came to trim the tree across from our apartment didn’t have a ladder, and although the tree was fairly tall, it didn’t look strong enough to support a climber. What appeared to be the supervisor waked around the tree a few times, and then told one of the crew to do something. The crewman left and came back a few minutes later with a group of guys carrying shovels. Pretty soon, they had the tree dug up and laid out on the sidewalk.

            The “supervisor” appeared to “pace off” the tree (measure the tree by counting the number of paces from root ball to the top), and had one of the crew with a saw cut about 4 feet out of the top of the tree  The then put the tree back in the hole, filled in around it, and gave it a good watering.

            I never saw the tree “drop” a leaf through this topping or after.

            Maybe I don’t know as much about tree’s as I thought… . . .  .

            Until next time “Y’all have a rice week now”

Posted 4 July 2007

Believe or not, its been two years, and give these guys a 100 miles… . . .

That’s right, it was two years ago since the first China Charlie showed up on the internet. That primer China Charlie was an introduction and a wish for a happy Independence and Dominion Day holidays for our friends from North America.

Since that first installment we’ve looked at a lot of "off the wall" local traffic situations, and the way that many of the local drivers "bend" the law to avoid obeying traffic regulations. We’ve also made suggestions for the addition of some motorized vehicular events at the up-coming Olympic Games to be held here in the "Middle Kinkdom" (the Olympic Committee must be pretty busy-they haven’t gotten back to us yet), and looked at what shaped China Charlie and gave me the "skewed" outlook on life that I seem to have (thanks to the likes of Alfred E. Newman and Henny Youngman).

A year or so ago, we established "China Charlie dot com" (that I keep thinking I need to get finished), and have plans to make it interactive.

Over the two years that we’ve done China Charlie, the pressures of maintaining a job and family have made coming up with something to comment on each week (or so) a little difficult on occasion, but the world is a big place with a lot of people that get into some strange situations, and the news services on the internet can always provide a fall back with an "unusual" story or two. While I do use this sometimes, there are just too many stories that are "too good to pass up", so we came up with the "Jebidah T. Kronk Award… . . " below.

The stories mentioned in "Jebidah T. Kronk" are stories that have been on the home pages of a couple of the most popular web browsers, and can be found on them or in their archives.

Anyway, on to this installment.. . . .

After living and working in "Developing Countries" for the past few decades, I’ve maintained that outside of most of the "Western countries", if "you give 2 drivers a hundred miles of straight paved 4 lane road, they’ll create a traffic jam". A minor construction project that I’ve been exposed to recently seems to lend a certain credence to my philosophy.

For the past several months, I’ve been spending a fair amount of time in a factory near one of the terminals for a river ferry across the Pearl River, part way between Guangzhou (Canton) and Hong Kong. The road that connects this terminal with the rest of the world is 2 marked lanes (that are expanded to 3 each way by the drivers) and has several small 2 lane bridges. Given the amount of containerized freight moving between factories here and container ports, the ferry’s are busy 24 hours a day, the traffic is fairly heavy, and the road really takes "a beating". A week or so ago, someone decided that a section of the roadway in the center of one of these bridges needed some work, and they took a jackhammer to an area approximately 4 feet wide that straddled the "center line". This took about 2 feet out of each "lane", but with the average lane width, still allowed for a normal traffic flow each way.

While the traffic on this road is generally congested the flow was usually pretty well organized, but as soon as the construction started, the traffic leading up to the bridge "snarled up" in gigantic proportions. The bridge still carries the two lanes of traffic as it did before, but it seems as though as soon as the signs and traffic cones went up, everyone had to try to be first, and they now try to "stuff" 3 (unofficial) lanes each way into one.

Ah yes, give them a hundred miles of straight road…. . . . .

Until next time "Y’all have a rice week now"

"Butts accused of stealing toilet paper"-a woman named Butts in America caught stealing toilet paper from a courthouse

"11 year old arrested for Drunk Driving"-11 year old girl with blood/alcohol count higher than for an adult DUI takes police on 100 MPH chase in America

                    "Musician canned for focusing or wrong organ"-A woman that had played the organ in the same church for several               years let go for taking a job in a sex toy supplier

Anyone that’s taken a look at China Charlie over the past couple of years knows that normally I comment on the more "unusual" aspects of the expat life style. While these comments have centered mainly on every day life and some of the characters that hang out in South China, occasionally we’ve taken a look at life in other parts other parts of the world.

The subject of this installment concerns a far more serious subject, and although the reason for it is local, the tips could be useful in almost any part of the world.

That subject is the protection of yourself, and loved ones..

The reason for my temporary change of literary outlook is the recent rumors of thefts, attacks and attempted kidnappings that seem to be centered around a store operated by a major American retail chain and, the local shopping center it’s located in it.

What follows are a few tips from a "scruffy old dude that’s bummed around the world" for a few decades, and managed, generally, to keep out of trouble.

Don’t depend on assistance from Security Personnel

Generally, Security Agencies operate at an investigative level, and will show up after an incident to determine who did what, and how to prevent it from happening again. Don’t rely on any assistance from a Security "Guard". Most have minimum training and they always seem to be "somewhere else" when needed.

Check out the people around you

Every so often, take a quick look at the people around you. Generally, you can tell if you’re welcome or not, even though you may not speak the local language. Facial expressions, "body language" and general actions will let you know if you’re unwelcome or being stalked.

Decide in advance what’s expendable

Thieves are generally after goods and not trouble. If accosted by a thief, it’s best to let them have what they want, try to get a good description of the person and to not defy them. Quite often a thief is more nervous than the victim, and if they’re armed, they can be "pushed" into doing something harmful.

Given this, it’s best to take a look at the things you’re wearing (or carrying), and decide what’s worth defending, and if anything (other than your kids) is worth risking possible injury over.

A few common items and actions that can give you an advantage

Keep in mind that most "bad guys" depend on the element of surprise as their advantage, and if you’re quick enough, you can "turn the tables" on them. Some of the things listed below may look as though they were dreamt up by Larry, Moe and Curley, but they can work when needed. It’s not a bad idea to go over various scenarios and possible reactions in you mind enough times that they become automatic. A few are:

1) If you’re confronted by a thief, scream or wave or point-anything to attract attention. These guys assume that by the time you figure out what’s happening, it’s over and they’re on their way. A quick move, or attracting extra attention on your part can change all that.

2) A good healthy stomp on the bridge of a foot, or kick in the shins generally changes a person’s focus. A person that’s intent on grabbing something from you will not expect a sharp pain in the foot or lower leg, and the few seconds it will take them to figure out what happened and recover will give you time to run or (as above) attract attention (screaming, jumping up and down, etc.).

3) A sharp corner of a box, shopping cart, card, key, etc. jabbed into a person will distract them, and again, gives you time to take "defensive measures" (screaming, shouting and pointing, etc.)

4) A shopping bag with any items in it can make a good club. Even a bag of clothes swung "up aside the head" of a wanna' be thief can give you a few seconds advantage

The good part of these moves are that you can always "play innocent" and apologize later ("Geez, I didn’t see your foot there". Or "Oops, I didn’t see you standing there when I turned to wave at a friend, and your face happened to get in the way", or "watch out for that box or bag!").

The key is to stay alert to your surroundings, and if a person is intent on taking something that’s yours (except your kids), let them have it .Don’t let them turn your home into your prison.

Until next time (when it’s back to the [ab]normal side of life), "Y’all have a rice week now"

Posted 14 June 2007

O.K., so I had a piece all done and ready to post on what seemed to be the biggest world wide question last week, "who whacked Tony?" (and does anyone really care?). However, I saw something on the way to work that over-rides any question on the final episode of any T.V. series-an actual detour (or diversion) here in China (and what happens when they use one).

In several earlier "Charlie’s" I’ve commented on the lack of detours to route traffic around construction zones here, and the rigors of getting "right down into it" with the heavy equipment and construction guys. Well, this morning I saw what I figure is the reason why they don’t bother trying to divert traffic.

First, this detour was on a recently opened, fairly good piece of limited access divided (boulevard style) 6 lane road that my driver uses between my apartment and office. The re-routed traffic went to another reasonably good stretch of secondary road (through a residential/business district).

However, one of the problems with this secondary road is that it has an underpass of a restrictive height, and somehow a truck driver got one of those hi-cube containers (you know, the ones that have the label "caution 9’6" container" on them), between the underpass and the "tattle tail" (the "I" Beam bar across roads with the same clearance as an underpass down the road from it, to prevent high trucks from damaging a bridge). How the heck he did it, completely escapes me. In any case, there he was backing up, then going forward (apparently hoping the clearance under the bridge would somehow change-I wonder how long it took before someone suggested that he let some of the air out of the tires).

After we passed under the bridge, there was a repair crew getting ready to repair a damaged "Tattle Tail".

Ah ha (!) you say.

But wait. First, the truck was trapped on the opposite side of the bridge from the damaged "Tattle Tail".

Then, there’s the matter of the construction of the "Tattle Tail". These things are made of heavy "I" Beams, that would cause major damage to anything that hit them (they take bridge protection very seriously here), and there was no visible damage to the container.

Alright, so we get past the traffic situation caused by the container/damaged tattle tail, and work our way up toward the intersection where we would re-join the limited access road that we started out on, only to start meeting cars and trucks coming the wrong way in the right hand lane.

It seems that some "bright spot" opened the barriers just enough to allow some of the smaller vehicles to "sneak" onto the closed section of the road, and in true Chinese driving fashion, several people decided to avoid the detour and bypass the barrier. When they got to what ever had the road closed, due to the boulevard style dividers, they had to turn around and "backtrack" to the barrier (driving the wrong way in the closed lane). And of course, when the arrived at the barrier, they made a right turn onto the road used for the detour, which put them in the lane facing the detoured traffic.

We got out of this snarl about the time a lot of the vehicles that had "sneaked" past the barrier arrived back at the detour.

We didn’t stick around to see the results of all of this, but given the recent antics of the local drivers, I suspect that this probably created a traffic jam of monumental proportions.

Maybe it’s last month’s Blue Moon here, or perhaps it’s just me, but it seems as though the drivers here have gotten "daffier" than ever.

The other day, we passed two cars stuck together at a 90 degree angle (both in the wrong lane for their direction of travel), at an intersection with traffic signals (of course, this is the same intersection where the single left turn lane swells to a width of 3 lanes). We also saw a car that had gotten a "scuff" down the entire side while apparently playing "I bluff you" with another guy at a parking lot exit.

I guess it’s about time for me to get some "blinders…. . . .

    > All the "hoopla" about the final episode of the "Sopranos" (including the one mentioned above that I scraped)

    > Movie inspired dumb stunts (lewd salad dressing, "mocousy"  sandwich)

    > A driver making 2 "U Turns" on Interstate 5

Until next time "Y’all have a rice week now"

Posted 3 June 2007

The Fine Art of Long Term Thievery … .. . . .

I don’t know if all the followers of China Charlie are old enough to remember some of the things in this installment, but through the years there have been several jokes, songs and stories of creative thievery.

A classic, was the old story about a guy that worked in a factory for 40 years before retiring. Everyday for that 40 years he would go through the factory gate with a wheel borrow full of sand. And, every day the same guard would stop him, and check the sand to see what he was taking out, and everyday, he would find nothing.

The day the workman retired, the guard (who was retiring also), said "I gotta’ to ask. For 40 years you’ve been pushing a wheel borrow full of sand the gate, and I’ve checked, but never found anything in the sand. I know you’ve been stealing something, but never figured out what. I really need to know what you’ve been stealing for the past 40 years."

The workman replied "Wheel Borrows", and left the Wheel Borrow he had with the guard.

In the 1970’s, the Country Music singer/writer Johnny Cash did a song titled "One Piece at a Time", that told the story of a guy that left Kentucky in 1949, and started working in a Detroit Auto Assembly Plant. He was given the job of putting wheels on Cadillac’s, and after watching them roll by on the production line every day, decided he wanted one.

The song relates how he came up with a plan to carry one piece of out of the factory each day, until he had all the parts needed to assemble a complete Cadillac automobile.

When he retired in 1979, he started assembling the car, but found that the parts didn’t necessarily match. According to the lyric, he wound up with a 1973 engine bolted to a 1953 transmission, a tail fin on one the rear fender and three headlights "up front".

After he got it all assembled, he registered it for license plates, and the "title" (legal registration paper) weighed 60 Lbs.

While both of these are "flights of fancy", they must have made sense to some guy in the U.S. state of Minnesota, because recently there was a story on the internet about this character being arrested for stealing Silver from his boss (apparently, he wasn’t as lucky as the "old Dude" with the wheel borrows, or Johnny Cash’s buddy with the "Psycho-Billy Cadillac).

According to the story, he stole nearly ½ million U.S. Dollars worth of the semi-precious metal from the plating plant he worked in, over a fairly short period. Given the relatively low price of Silver (compared to other "precious metals") and the amount used in plating, he had to be taking a fairly large amount of the plant’s inventory out each day to accumulate the estimated U.S.$ 450,000 in the three years since the company started noticing shortages.

According to the internet story apparently the perpetrator has confessed, and is receiving professional help for a gambling addiction.

Believe it or not, this same sort of thing happens here in the "Middle Kinkdom", with a lot of the products made here. This accounts for a lot of the "one of a kind" shoes and garments available in the shops. Personally, I feel that most of these shops are "missing the boat" by not marketing these production "misfits" as Chinese "Originals", "Hand Crafted" or as "Future Antiques".

Why does the shirt I just brought have sleeves two different lengths….. . . . . .

> An article on the sexy attire of the "Bratz" Dolls

> A Pub having to change "tricky" bathroom (Toilet) door signs

> Police in Brisbane (Australia) not being allowed to close a nude carwash. (as if they really wanted to). "Bubbles ‘n Babes"     will stay open (it sure beats hanging around a donut shop).

Until next time "Y’all have a rice week now"

Posted 27 May 2007

Scraps… . . . . .

O.K., so we’ve been "out of action" for a couple of weeks with a major problem with our computer and internet connection, but haven’t lost track of some of the weird things going on in the world.

This installment is a few "scraps" that we "picked up", while "off line".

As an example, a few installments back, we related a story about an old friend’s getting "booked" for Drunken Walking, by a police department in an old logging "boom town" during an Ice Racing Weekend in North America.

Well, it turns out that there are several other ways to get a DUI violation without drinking and driving.

In the U.S. state of Tennessee, a member of the Tennessee Titans (an American NFL football team) was charged with a DUI while riding in his pickup truck with a relative driving. It seems that under Tennessee law, a vehicle owner can be charged with Driving Under the Influence, if he allows another person that has had "one too many" to drive his vehicle.

In the U.S. state of Missouri, a buddy of mine’s son has a friend that was arrested for "sleeping off too many drinks" in his car along a state highway. He was charged with a DUI, and when he appeared in court, he admitted that he had driven his car to the place the cops found him (is honesty really the best policy?)

In a town in Germany, a man was charged recently with Driving Under the Influence, when the local police found him speeding down the center line of the main street in his wheelchair. According to the story, the police were having trouble figuring out how to handle this one, as apparently the normal thing to do is impound the vehicle involved

Of course there’s always the story about the woman that was charged with DUI, while riding her horse into a police car late one night.

The "wildest" story involving a DUI I ever heard was rumored to have come out of Australia several years ago. The story went that when police found a car full of drunks wedged up against Eucalyptus tree, they were told that the boys had appointed a designated driver before going to the Pub, and he had not had any alcoholic beverages all evening. In using the breathalyzer, it was found that he in fact did not have any alcohol, in his system.

However, they did find that he was legally blind. When asked how he was able to drive without being able to see, the reputed reply was "No Problem. Me miates tell me where I am, and when to turn or stop". I understand that the whole bunch was facing a judge on DUI charges the next morning.

A scrap on anther subject was that most of us have heard the expression about something happening "Once in a Blue Moon", but really don’t know what Blue Moon" is. It seems that someone decided several decades ago, that a second full moon in the same calendar month (in the sky that is) is a "Blue Moon".

With the time difference (and the date line) the second full moon occurred in Asia on May 30, but won’t happen elsewhere else in the world until later.

> A story about injuries suffered by a woman when a camel sat on her (I always thought it was supposed to be the other way around).

 

> A theme park opening near the U.S. city of Roswell New Mexico, in the same region as the infamous "Area 51" (where a "Flying Saucer" was supposed to have crashed in the late 1950’s) that has an "Alien Parking Area". With the U.S. state of New Mexico being located on the southern border of the U.S., this may not be only for visitors from the "night sky"

 

Until next time "Y’all have a rice week now"

Posted  13 May 2007

Who is Jebadiah T. Kronk and what does he know about the news?? ? ? ?

Every so often, I run into a problem with what to write about. I mean, traffic and unusual things you see on the street here provide plenty of material, but you can only write so much about it before it gets boring.

Over the past few weeks we’ve commented on what might happen if NASCAR came to the "Middle Kinkdom", suggestions for a few new events at the Olympic Games in Beijing next year, an adjustment on a move by local drivers to avoid obeying traffic signals by bending the law, a possible bounty on lighted lane markers, etc., but where do I find something to write about this week?

Go to the internet to check the news, of course.

When I connected to the "net" I found a story attributed to Reuter’s on the first home page I checked, that I really question the validity of. Reuter’s is a pretty reliable source for news, but I suspect that someone may have "put one over on them" with this one.

The story related how tourism authorities in a town in the Chinese Province of Sichuan have been working on creating a tourist attraction of an area, where apparently the local custom is "Women Rule and Men Obey", since 2005 (???).

According to their sources, the motto of this "tourist attraction" will be (or is, I’m not sure which) "Women never make mistakes, and men can never refuse women’s requests". Most guys I know don’t have to go to Sichuan to be told this (I wonder if any of the people involved in this ever heard the old vaudeville/burlesque one liner "I waited to get married until I could find ‘Miss Right’, unfortunately, I didn’t know that her first name was ‘always’ "). Women tourists in this village also decide where to stay, where to shop (and what to shop for) and what to eat.

So, again, why would most guys I know have to travel to Sichuan to have these decisions made for them? If I was a travel agent, I wouldn’t bother to do a presentation on tours to this place at the local Rotary or Elks Club.

Where these folks really fall down with their concept is in the punishment for any "infraction". All they do is make the offending man "kneel on an uneven board" or wash dishes in a restaurant. No where did the article say anything about several hours of silence, banging of dishes and flatwear, or sighing and pouting.

Apparently the person who wrote this piece, talked to an official involved in the project (named Li-no gender mentioned) in Longshuihu Village. Mr./Ms. Li explained that the tourism bureau has budgeted approximately U.S.$26 million for improvements in the infrastructure, and are looking for foreign investors (I wonder if Trump or Playboy would be interested in investing, or if Louis Farrakhan would like to schedule an event there?).

Having worked my way through that, I turned on one of the 24/7 International News Networks, only to be told that "a team of experts have determined that China is one of the major contributors to air pollution". Boy, now there’s a real "Earth Shaker"!

It took a "team of experts" to establish this?

Anyone that’s been in China for more than 3 days has learned that "you can’t trust any air that you can’t see".

By now, you’re probably wondering what all this has to do with the "lead" this week ("who is Jebidiah T. Kronk and what does he know about the news?"). Well, after looking at the stories that I’ve commented on above, we’ve decided that we’ll have "Ole’ Jeb" awarding the "Jebidiah T. Kronk Award for Ridiculousness in Journalism" on a weekly basis, and as soon as I can unlock the mysteries of out how to rig a link on the website, will make the award to any stories that you  feel may qualify, and share with us

So, the first two Jebidiah T. Kronk Awards for Ridiculousness in Journalism go to:

• "Woman’s town to put men in their place"
• "Team of Experts Determine that China is one of the Major Contributors of Air Pollution"

Until next time "Y’all have a rice week now"

Posted 28 April 2007

Fake right, go left ... . . . . .

The line above could very well come out of a "huddle" in a "sandlot (American) football game" or from a coach anywhere, but it didn’t. It seems to be the latest discovery in the continuing quest by drivers here to find ways to avoid having to obey a traffic signal or sign, without really breaking a law (putting a major crimp in a law, yes. But not breaking it).

Early in the saga of China Charlie, we looked at a traffic move that we called "the Dong Guan Duck".

To refresh anyone’s memory (that may care), the "Duck" comes into play when some of the local drivers approach a red traffic signal. Instead of stopping, the driver makes a right turn, cuts across the street, makes another right turn, and continues on in their original direction, on the street the maneuver started on. While this can be irritating for folks that are waiting for the signal to change to see, apparently it doesn’t really break any traffic laws (if there are any). "U Turns" seem to be legal here, and exiting one right turn, cutting directly across the street to another technically could be considered a "U Turn", so there’s no real infraction.

I suppose the "Fake Right, go Left" maneuver could be considered an adaptation of the "Dong Guan Duck.", as it allows a driver to avoid the wait for a green left turn signal, or to make a left turn where Left Turns are banned.

The way I’ve seen the "Fake Right, go Left" executed is, in approaching an intersection with a red traffic signal, the driver moves to the far right lane, and makes their right turn. As soon as they’ve cleared the right turn, a "U Turn" puts them in a lane that’s heading 90 degrees from their original direction of travel (a Left Turn, without making a left turn against a red signal or sign).

With the increase in the number of motor vehicles on the street (and particularly waiting make a legitimate turn), both of these maneuvers require drivers to travel down the cross street for some distance, before being able to force their way through traffic, and make their "U Turn"

Given the average traffic situation on the cross streets, any of this can be too much bother for a lot of the folks behind "the wheel" of motor vehicles. These "guys" (and "gals") use a maneuver I call "the Bulldozer".

This involves disregarding the traffic signals and signs entirely, and "plowing" through an intersection as the driver pleases, at any speed they may desire

For the past couple of years, the "Bulldozer" was executed primarily by Redi-Mix Trucks, Mitsubishi tandem axle Dump Trucks, and Container Rigs (with an occasional "Honey Dipper’s" green tank truck thrown in). Recently, however, I’ve seen the "Bulldozer" being practiced by vehicles of all sizes.

While the "Bulldozer" can result in a lot of "tortured sheet metal and scarred paint", waving of arms (with an occasional "punch being thrown"), and a lot of screaming, it also makes crossing a street at a signaled intersection as a pedestrian, exciting. This tends to turn most strollers and shoppers into "Jaywalkers", only adding to the chaos on the highways and byways here (pedestrians are not allowed on the highways, but that doesn’t mean much either).

Well, it’s time to put on my "blinders" and get into a taxi…. . . . .

Until next time "Y’all have a rice week now"

Posted 21 April 2007

There must have been a newspaper "Baby Doctor" around in the 1940’s…. . . . . .

During the 1960’s there was a prominent "baby" doctor named Benjamin Spock (not to be confused with Leonard Nimoy’s character of "Mr. Spock" in the original "Star Trek") that made himself famous and wealthy by giving advice on raising Children, both in person and in books.

I don’t know of a "baby doctor" that gave international advice on "keeping a kid on the straight and narrow" before or has since, but there must have been one around when I was growing up. My reason for making this assumption is that over the past couple of decades, I’ve heard other people around my age quoting their parents with some of the same lines that I heard as a kid. Not only have I heard these from people that grew up in many different areas of North America, but also from folks that grew up half a world away from the street I lived on.

Given the time I grew up (during and after World War II), and that paperback books were rare at the time, I have to assume that advice in this area must have come from a newspaper column, similar to several columns devoted to advising (and belittling) the lovelorn, popular in the 1960’s and 70’s.

A few examples of statements that my parents made, that I thought were "originals", but have since heard that other parents used on their kids are below. A lot of these were also used in the movie "A Christmas Story" (a great film about a kid lusting after a "Red Ryder Air Rifle" for Christmas, in the 1940s).

Obviously, things were tough in the post war Asian Countries (including Japan), and I’m sure that a lot of kids went to bed hungry on more than one occasion, but I never did figure out what this had to do with my "cleaning up my plate" in North America. I’ve heard that similar lines (only with different countries) used in many areas of North America and as far away as Australia.

I’ve used this on my kids, but have had to update it to ".. there are kids starving in North America" (Times do change… . . .).

This is one that my Mother used on me a lot, usually without telling me what the alleged infraction was. A variation on this that I’ve heard was "When your Dad gets home, you’re going to get it!" (usually, at a shout).

This statement usually followed "go to your room, and think about what you did" that was preceded with the "instruction" above

I never really figured out what "that look" was or what I was going to "get", but was reasonably certain that what ever "it" was, it wasn’t going have two wheels, shiny fenders and neat horn.

This is one that I heard more than once, and it usually preceded what’s referred to today, as "Corporal Punishment" (in my time, it was called "getting your Butt Blistered"). I never really understood how giving a paddling could hurt more than receiving one, but I guess it did (and while I was on the receiving end, was not the time to ask).

I know that today’s generation is more enlightened than mine, but I find it hard to believe "Corporal Punishment" or using a little "think about what you did" to be grounds for a child suing their parents.

Actually, the few swift swats on the butt followed by a little time to think about the various things that got me "into trouble" were probably some of the best teachers I had when I was growing up.

Until next time "Y’all have a rice week now"

Posted 14 April 2007

One that didn’t make the Home Pages, or "What UI"…. . . . .

In a recent China Charlie, I commented on the fact that with the Olympics coming up, China had enlisted the assistance of some English speaking folks to help eliminate some of the funnier translations on signs here. The concern I expressed was, where I was going to get new material for China Charlie?

Well, given some of the stories that have shown up on the Home Pages of the Internet Browsers on my computer, my concerns were unfounded.

There were a couple of "unusual" stories recently involving DUI ("Driving Under the Influence" [Drunk Driving]) arrests that didn’t involve inebriated celebrities making racial slurs, that caught my eye.

One was about a couple of guys charged with DUI in the U.S. state of New Jersey, for making a trip to the drive through at a "Wendy’s" (a chain of fast food joints in North America), on Zambonis (you know, those big machines that are used to smooth up the ice on professional Hockey and Figure Skating rinks).

Another was about a woman in Alabama that was arrested for ramming a police car with a horse late at night, when an officer tried to make her stop riding it down the middle of a street ( I wonder what the charge was on this one. To say she was driving would be a "stretch").

All of this reminded me of a similar experience friend of mine had a long time ago.

To set the stage for this story, I have to admit that several decades ago I was part of a semi organized group of fools that used to race Sports Cars on the ice (a frozen lake) for sport. Actually, "Ice Racing" became quite popular in the central part of North America at the time, and eventually became reasonably organized, with regional events.

While the competition was a major part of these regional events, and some of the competitors were pretty serious about it, a big part of these gatherings was also the partying that went with them.

My friend (we’ll call "Ernie") had entered his car in one of these regional events that was held in a town on a lake about 100 miles from where we lived (believe it or not, the town was named Lake City).

He was scheduled to run on Sunday, with his qualifying run on Saturday.

Now, what do you do on a Saturday Night in an old Logging Boom Town on a sub-zero weekend, when you’re involved with a bunch of other folks intent on sliding around on a frozen lake, while driving as fast as they can? Have a party of course!

After several hours or partying, and imbibing in the "devil’s brew", my friend decided to go back to his hotel and found that he would have to walk (he’d had enough to drink that he couldn’t find his car).

While he was sorta walking back to his hotel, he was observed by a couple of members of the local law enforcement community, and apparently they recognized the signs of a person who had just a little too much to drink, but not quite enough to keep from freezing. Based on that opinion, they took him to the local jail and put him in the "Drunk Tank" for the night for his own safety (better to find him there, suffering from a "big league hangover", than  frozen stiff in a snow bank the next morning).

Now their problem was what to put on the report as a reason for locking him up?

While he obviously was well beyond the legal limit for blood/alcohol, he wasn’t disorderly and wasn’t creating a public disturbance, so they finally decided to "book" him for "Drunk Walking".

Now, I’m not certain, but I suspect that my buddy, "old Ern" is probably the only guy around with a "Drunk Walking" charge on his record.

Ah well, back to the "Home Pages" to see what other "off the wall" stories they have…. .

Until next time "Y’all have a rice week now"

Posted 1 April 2007

Pranks to put a strain on a friendship… . . . . .

O.K., so it’s "April Fools Day", a day to pull jokes and pranks on other people. However, it’s possible to get a little too elaborate with your pranks, and actually have folks get up set over them.

As an example, a couple of decades ago, yours truly had a friend get married, and the group of "morons" that I was part of decided to give them a welcome home surprise when they returned from their honeymoon.

I had gotten married a couple of years earlier, and had foiled an attempt by this same group (including our victim) to have the State Police pull a (prearranged) Marriage License check at the Hotel my new wife and I were "honeymooning" in (We lived in a small town that was the district headquarters for the State Police, and had several Troopers and officers as friends that could arrange such things). I had suspected some "skullduggery was afoot", and had made a reservation in one place, then changed it the day before the wedding. When we left the wedding reception driving the wrong way, they decided to check to be sure we were registered in the original hotel, before pulling the "raid".

In any case, we felt it was our duty to arrange a few surprises for the newly married couple, so the night before the "honeymooners" returned, we got into their apartment, and set a few things up (one of our group had a key).

After we stretched cling wrap over the toilet stool and lowered the seat, loosened the light bulb in the bathroom and smeared Honey on the flush handle of the toilet (have you ever tried to use toilet paper with honey on your hands?), we "short sheeted" the bed (for those of you not familiar with a short sheeting a bed, it’s done by removing one sheet, and folding the remaining sheet so with the normal bed covers on it, the bed looks like it has two sheets on it. The results are that when the person tries to get in bed [between the sheets] he finds it’s half as long as it should be). The final surprise we arranged was to take small plastic bags, put a small amount of rice in them, lay them on all the kitchen shelves in the cabinets, and attach the bottom of the bag (with the top unsealed) to the cabinet door. The first time a cabinet was opened, the bag would be pulled off the shelf, and the rice would shower out.

From all reports, things followed pretty much what we had engineered when the couple arrived home. The wife had to use the toilet, which she came out of using some very un-lady like language with the backs of her legs wet and toilet paper stuck to her hand. After they got the bathroom light working, tried to make a cup of coffee which resulted in the first of many rice showers, and decided to go to bed only to find it short sheeted, they figured that there were more surprises than they really wanted to deal with that night, and checked into a hotel.

The result of all this frivolity was that there were "a ton" of accusations, and those of us that were guilty finally had to "own up" to our indiscretions (although I have to admit that watching the expressions on the faces as the incidents were described, made it difficult to "keep a straight face", even while "confessing").

Even though it seemed funny to us at the time (and even funnier after a few decades have passed), it did put a strain on the relationship between several friends for some time.

While this series of pranks "went just over the line", I heard the story of one that almost turned deadly.

In the upper Great Lakes area, it used to be pretty much "Red Neck" country, with everyone having several guns, and some folks living in "houses" that would have to be remodeled before they could be condemned. They also had a marriage tradition called a "Shilviery", which amounted to a group of friends of the bride and groom getting together outside the house that the couple were spending their wedding night in, and making as much noise as possible, to disturb any "nefarious activities" that might be taking place inside.

In this particular instance, the "Shilviery Team" consisted of three guys that were well beyond their capacity for alcoholic beverages, with one being considerably overweight. When making all kinds of noise didn’t get a response from inside, the fat guy volunteered to go up on the roof and jump a few times just to let the newlyweds know that they were being "Shilvieried". The first problem was that the roof would not support the impact of him jumping on it. The second was that apparently he chose a roof section over the bedroom to jump on, and from what I was told he landed on the "wedding bed" with the first jump. Problem three involved a loaded shotgun that the groom kept in the bedroom.

According to the story I heard, as soon as the fat guy disappeared through the roof, "friends" two and three decided to run. Shortly after that decision was put into action, the overweight guy charged through the front door at full stride with the groom right behind him, armed with the shotgun. A couple of rounds of "bird shot" were discharged in the general direction of the retreating "friends", but luckily no one was badly hurt.

Now, about those old "bird shot" scars in my butt…. . . . .

Until next time "Y’all have a rice week now"

Posted  25 March 2007

Why I suspect that NASCAR would have a difficult time here…. . . .

A group of us were watching the first Formula 1 race of the new season last weekend, and someone commented that there weren’t any local Professional Drivers on "the F-1 circuit". The comment got me to thinking about what might happen if they tried to open a NASCAR circuit here.

After watching the chaos loosely referred to as "traffic" here, I think there would have to be certain modifications to the requirements for a track to be certified by the folks that put the NASCAR Stamp of approval on a race course...

A few examples might be:

The name would need to be changed from NASCAR to NASCATR (National Agency [of] Stock Car And Truck Racing), to better reflect the vehicles involved in the racing (anything smaller than a "deuce and a half" [truck] would be allowed to compete).

They would also need to change the "light tower" used to start the race, so the top three lamps are green instead of red (anyone that’s been out at "rush hour" knows that traffic here doesn’t move on the green signal). The next lamp below the green would be amber (again, in traffic, the guy on the mobile phone that’s holding everyone up doesn’t start to move until the traffic signal turns amber). And finally, the signal to really get a race started would need to be changed to red (which seems to be the color that really gets some people in vehicles moving-the bigger the vehicle, the faster they "sail through" a red signal).

The starting grid would need to be marked for two lanes and made wide enough for four cars abreast, to accommodate the seven or eight cars that would be lined up side by side, by the start of the race.

The pace vehicle would need to be a Redi-mix Truck, a tandem axle Dump Truck, or a "Honey Dipper’s" (Green) tank truck (no body seems to "mess" with any of these, and there might be a chance it could make an entire lap without a driver "slipping past" him on the right).

Next, the local mobile phone company would need to erect a mobile phone repeater tower every 2 Km. or so around the circuit so the competing drivers wouldn’t "lose" their (phone) signal while they’re talking to a phone solicitor that’s signing them up for a service program (that offers a selection of the latest phones at a discount).

At a couple of intervals on all the straight-aways, there would need to be lane markers indicating Left Turn Lanes, to keep the driver’s headed straight down the track.

The access to the Pits would require driving a 100 meters past the entrance to the Pit Lane in the inside (high speed) lane, stopping and looking around for at least 30 seconds, turning on the emergency flashers, and then reversing across a minimum of four lanes of high speed vehicles, a few electric bicycles and a pedestrian or two to enter them. The viewing stands would need to be located on the opposite side of the Pit Lane from the refreshment stands. This would allow for a reasonable number of folks trying to cross the Pit Lane, while focusing on food and drink (and not looking at traffic).

Turn Signals would need to be required, only to confuse any drivers following the lead car (unless the following cars ignored them completely).

Sponsorship would definitely see some changes.

Instead of the Winston Cup series, the primer events might be labeled the "Shauhgxi Ashtray races", and the official beer could well be "Zhu Hai Lite". Any advertising on the participating vehicles could be reversed from one side to the other, misspelled, or applied up side down, however the person applying it pleases.

Now, if I could just get back across the Pit Lane without spilling my Zhu Hai Lite and styrofoam tray of stale Squid Chips.. . . .

Until next time "Y’all have a rice week now"

Posted 18 March 2007

Has Charlie always been a little bit warped?? ? ?

This installment is going to be a little different from most, in that it will go into a few happenings before yours truly started writing "China Charlie". While I’ve been in the "Middle Kinkdom" for a couple of decades, most of what follows happened in other parts of the "Mysterious East".

For a good part of my life, I’ve been involved in manufacturing Branded Products for export to Europe and the "Western World". In most of these jobs there has been an "average expat package" that included a car and driver.

So, Sorta’ like Luke Skywalker, "Return with us now to time long ago and a country far away" that bills itself "as The Land of the Morning Calm" (as with most Far Eastern countries, who ever came up with that catchy little "ditty" obviously never experienced their morning rush hour .).

Anyway after being told that I could pick my own job titl