June 16, 2008

it wasn't easy being a scared white boy in a black neighborhood

Today is Father's day. That means that Post Secret has posted way too many Daddy Didn't Love Me postcards and I am grateful that I have my dad. We don't talk much, but the man's a solid dad. He is responsible for half of me.

So WOW when you think of that, huh?
I take after him more. Some say. But I don't know. The Yongs are the calm accountants. The Chois are the crazy creatives. They are like dueling baseball leagues. I try to keep it five by five. A healthy balance of introspection and feistiness.

We had a family dinner for my dad's parents last night and tonight, my mom's. We sat around their Flushing apartment while my mom and grandfather surfed the web for Bolo ties. My grandfather wants bolo ties for Father's Day. It is very hot in their apartment. We'll be moving to the apartment above theirs at the end of summer. And then I can have a real room and a closet! Exciting. And everywhere will smell like fish and metallic decay but good restaurants will be nearby and I can take the subway into the city and it will be so much cheaper.

While my uncle was watching golf on TV and everyone was eating watermelon, I was inspired to bring you the first (and probably only, since I don't hang out with old people a whole lot) edition of


Korean mac keyboard

Maps of Korea. And Grandma's specs.

Antique furniture from the homeland.

Seamstress station

Crazy time-telling devices!

They were immigrants.

Old-ass photos. This is my grandma with my mom and my aunt when they were chillun.

Embarrassingly corny photos of their grandkids.

And who can forget- Jesus!

I'm still baffled by the fact that they had a mac computer years before I did.

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