I took lots of pictures these past two weeks in America. Not near enough ‘cuz I didn’t get pics of everyone. But I got some good ones. I plan on putting together a short movie clip or two such as for Teri’s graduation but that’s going to take me a few days of editing.

In the meanwhile, I’ll post some random pics. This one was from a family gathering at my sister Susie’s house. Jenna looked interested in what I was drinking and being the good grandfather that I am want to teach her the right stuff early.

We’re home. 26 hours from door step to door step. Tired and going to bed. I met the school director coming up the stairs and he said I could even have Thursday and Friday off since I’ll be tired from all the travel and jet lag. Nice move. I knew I liked this place for a reason. More – much more – later.

We’re about to leave for the Busan airport and make our way east to the US.  We’re both excited (me probably more – she’s more nervous) to get there safely. We’re both wearing masks to help prevent any disease spread while in the airplane. It’s 11am-ish here – which is 9pm Monday where we’re going. That means that by the time we get there – around 3:40pm is all goes as planned – that we’ll have been traveling for 18 hours. Certainly no record, but a huge jet lag pain in the booty nonetheless.

See you in Dallas.

p.s. just realized my server time was not my timezone. I adjusted the zone and now my countdown is correctly listing my arrival time down to the second (as if airlines are ever on time)

Or something like that. As long as it looks like English, no one will know, since most of the parishioners don’t speak English.

For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall net perish but have etemat life.

That’s the motto on the church bags of the kids hanging around the park near the church on Sunday mornings.

I’m telling you, this country needs an official English editing bureau to keep the product manufacturers from goofing up the language.

I guess there’s not a lot to do in the ‘burbs here in Korea. When I was in high school, we had drugs to keep up occupied. These kids don’t have that, nor do they have nearby movie theaters, or bowling alleys. They do have numerous parks, however, and usually there’s no shortage of kids playing there. Late at night when no one can see them this is what they do there.

OK, maybe not. It’s a little far off on the distance.  Here’s a zoomed in closeup.

There! See that peak?  That’s Munsu Mountain. I live on the far side of it. I rode the bicycle from there down to this lake with my dog and my friend and business partner, Fin. Part of the way, SaTang rode in the basket on my bike. Fin’s dog, Gay Gogi (Korean for “dog meat”) rode in his backpack.  A good portion of the ride runs through Ulsan Grand Park and the ridge line that runs through the middle of it. During that part, the dogs ran along side us.  They both had fun in the mountains running with us but both came back tired. Dog tired, actually. I’m pretty wore out, too. I biked a total of 35km, and a good part of that was serious hills. While we stopped at the lake, Fin talked to another friend and we made plans for a BBQ.

At Fin’s apartment, we made chicken kabobs on the grill. The security dude who lives there didn’t want us to use the grill outside near the apartment.  First, he said it was dangerous. A small, portable gas grill with no charcoal could hardly be dangerous. When we explained that, he said it was because the students that live there wouldn’t like the smell of cooking meat. Then we challenged him on his obvious anti-foreigner stance and accused him of not wanting us to grill because we are foreigners.  After riding that far I was in no mood to take shit from some guy who really couldn’t come up with a reason why we shouldn’t.  I got in his face and accused him of bias and he walked back inside. If you white people who read this have ever wondered what it must be like to be a black person in America, come to Korea sometime. You’ll see how it feels to  be discriminated against.

Despite that small moment of Korea’s ugly side, the day was fabulous. The weather was awesome, the hills wicked and the dogs frisky. But damn, I need a leg massage tonight.

I bicycled past this guy yesterday while I was out on my normal morning ride. I’d seen him before, but this time, since it was a holiday I had plenty of time so I thought I stop and take a picture of him. He was rooting around in some scrap piles under the highway along the river. His bike helmet was the first thing that I noticed when I saw him. He had strategically attached small pieces of foil to it and made it, in my opinion, a little more flashy. His bike I saw next – he had that outfitted with ribbons and bows. But the part that tipped me off that this guy was a little unbalanced was his clothes. It was hot yesterday. I was wearing shorts and a short sleeve shirt and while biking I sweated profusely. He had on a large winter coat and what looked like snow pants. Everything he had on except the helmet was filthy.  The tin foil arrows were neatly folded to look a little like Mercury’s wings

The deranged street people back home use bags or shopping carts. I haven’t seen either here in Korea. But I haven’t seen any bicycle homeless people before either – not that I know he’s homeless because I don’t. He just has that “look.”  When I asked him if I could take a picture he was more than willing. He even put on his sunglasses and struck a thoughtful pose of looking into the distance.

It’s an everyday thing, as long as the weather is nice. I take the dog out to the park across the street and play ball with her.

Usually, we attract a few kids. Sometimes they’re afraid, but this little guy was anything but. His mother was constantly warning him not to touch the dog, but like a good little boy he did what felt good and played and petted the dog.  Koreans tend to, in my experience, fall into either the “dogs are cute” category or “dogs are dirty/scary avoid them if you can” category. This boy might have to convince his mother to pull an Arlen Specter and switch parties.