35 & Counting

I recently had my 35th birthday. Holy cow!!! 35!!! When most people find out my age they have two thoughts. Their first thought is, “You look a lot younger.” The second thought is, “You act like you’re still in High School.” And they’re right on both counts. I can’t believe in 5 years I’ll be eligible for the 40 and over league (which I plan on dominating).

My sister’s birthday is actually a day before mine. She’s a year younger. I remember growing up and having to share the party and the birthday cake. I would tell my mom, “Hey, other kids have their own party why can’t I have mine?” To this day I still believe that she planned it that way in order to save time and money by having only to plan one party and buy one cake- a tactic I may use myself when the kids come.

As time passed, I’m not sure when I stopped celebrating my birthday. It just became another day in the life of The Jammer. The birthday party simply lost its luster. I didn’t want to be reminded of inching closer to death. Not to mention you get to a point in your life when, if you plan a birthday party, you usually have to pay for that party. No thanks, I thought. If I wanted to hang out with friends I’d just call them and hang out. Simplicity is beautiful.

I realize that I may sound a little morbid or a complete party pooper. I’m really not. I just don’t care for my own birthday. But one of the great perks of getting married is that you marry into a family, unless that family is crazy of course. My family is only semi-crazy. This year my wife planned a wonderful dinner at the in-laws and invited some friends. We feasted on grilled steak that the father-in-law (aka. The Big Boss Man) grilled up with wonderful sides dishes as well. Food. Is. Good.

My wife baked a cake and had the laborious duty of setting thirty-five candles on it. She could’ve just got the number candles and put a 3 and a 5. Then we could’ve used them again for when the kids are 3 and 5 or when I turn 53. I guess she wanted me to have a challenge in blowing out all those candles. After the cutting of the cake we started opening gifts, most of which were cards and gift cards to Cheesecake Factory. Yes, my family knows me well. My buddy Jason Smith actually gave me a hand made card with different pictures of a day trip we took to Santa Barbara with our wives. It was quite moving. My little niece, Maddie, even gave me a card. It was a drawing of me as an orange stick figure. Maybe she went with orange because she couldn’t tell whether I was yellow or brown. I think orange is a good compromise. I proceed to examine the card and tell her all the nice things about it. My mother-in-law (aka The Mother-In-Law) later told me the way I handled Maddie showed her that I’m going to be a good father someday. I told her, “As long as they don’t cry or ask me for anything I think I’ll be a great parent.”

Upon reflection, I would’ve never thought I’d be here. What do I mean by “here?” If you knew me in high school you would’ve thought that I’d either end up in jail or be some kind of deadbeat and you’d be right. When Christ captured my heart the narrative in my life took a drastic turn. I marvel at the work He’s done in my life and continue to grow in increased wonder at His kindness towards me. As a result of God changing my life, I now have a home, the best wife in the world, and a family that cares enough about me to do something for my birthday. Yes, God is amazing and He desires to do a work within our lives in order to bless us all the more. This is our God. Amazing.

A Journey With Jordan

One of my close friends (Jordan Wessling), who I consider a brother, is getting married this coming weekend. As his wedding day gets closer and closer I feel more of a burden to pray for him and his soon-to-be wife. Recently, I started reflecting on his life and what he’s meant to me.

There were the days as Undergraduates at Biola University where we simply attend classes and studied all day coming together at night to discuss what we’d learned in class and bounce theological ideas off of each other. There was also the occasional water fight with other students in the same dorm and the constant talk about the “Christian dating scene,” which we could probably write a book about. Hey, that sounds like a good idea!

We even went to graduate school together at Talbot School of Theology, although we were in different programs. We moved to off-campus apartments along with other friends and continued our studies for another couple of years. We never got tired of trying to figure out different theological ideas and the nature of women, the latter being the most ambitious of subjects.

Jordan has helped me grow in my intellectual life, never allowing me to fall into a system of beliefs without truly thinking well about and have good reasons for my beliefs. He would meet complex theological/philosophical issues head-on and often study the night away to figure out answers. Throughout graduate school, we would often try and figure out difficult ideas together and even share our research as we wrote about related or similar topics. We differ quite a bit on some theological issues but regardless of those differences I consider him nothing less than a brother.

Despite being an absolute geek, however, he wasn’t socially awkward. Far from it, he was usually the life of the party. I was always amazed at how he could simply mingle with the crowd no matter what the crowd may be. While undergraduates, he was involved in a ministry that street witnessed to homeless people in Hollywood. He got along with everyone at the dorm we lived in no matter the social group (e.g., artsy, geeks, jocks, etc.). When we moved to off-campus apartments we met an Indian neighbor who had a 22-year-old son with Autism, named Abdul. Abdul was one of the most annoying people I’ve ever met but Jordan handled him with care and Christ-like love often times inviting him into our apartment and cooking him dinner. I’ll never forget the times when I vented my frustrations about my fruitless efforts of pursuing Katie. He would offer advice and patiently listen to my constant wining about it.

To further illustrate our friendship; there was this dark time in our lives called the “Girlfriendless Era.” Jordan got a book by Henry Cloud called, “How to get a date worth keeping” (dumb title). He read it and dissected it like one of his philosophy textbooks. The basic premise of the book was to balance the notion from Joshua Harris’ “I Kiss Dating Good-Bye”(or what I like to call “Saying hello to bad exegesis” or “The Chief end of all men is to avoid dating forever”) that dating isn’t really that bad. Frankly, Cloud wants you to date EVERYONE! It would be beyond the scope of this blog to go any further into the book but Jordan and I simply tried the premise of dating several people, not for the purposes of marriage but for the purpose of simply getting to know other people. By the end of the month we had gone on so many “dates” that we were emotionally exhausted and dead broke as a result of going on these “dates” We would debrief after every “date” and shared our experiences and decided to modify some of Cloud’s ideas because we were tired of going broke (I keep putting “dates” in quotes because it’s not what people normally think of when they hear “date.” Again, I can’t get into right now.). It was a great time of learning and self-discovery. And it was great to walk through that with a friend (Sorry, I cant’ really get into the results right now either because, well, it’s about Jordan right now). He even coined the term “Cloudian Dating.”

Jordan has had commitment issues in the past. So to hear that he’s making the life-long commitment of marriage to the woman he loves is a delight to me. We’re all growing up. I guess it had to happen some time. As a result of Jordan’s marriage, I realize that I’ll be playing a diminished role as a friend. He’s priority is his wife, as it was meant to be. He’ll attend a different church and have different immediate friends with other ministers that will serve as his pastor(s). That’s just the reality of the ever-changing life-stage we all go through. What won’t change is my commitment to Jordan as a friend. I can always commit to praying for him and his marriage, have times for occasional phone calls to catch up and bounce ideas whether theological or practical, and when time permits, enjoy each other’s company and reminisce of pre-mortgage days and when our wives used to think we were funny.

One of the most memorable times during my wedding weekend was the morning of my wedding day when I spent it with my groomsmen (Jordan being one of them of course). It was a time of “sober joy” in which we had fun but we also took it seriously. My guys shared some difficult things about both their failures and successes as a husband. No one was being pretentious but simply being real. Their desire for me to not make the same mistakes but share in the wonderful experience of a good marriage that honors God was clearly evident.

Jordan hasn’t given a lot of thought on how he wants to structure this weekend. It’s maddening. But that’s also Jordan and you simply just roll with it. This weekend, I’m here to support him and do anything that’s asked of me. I look forward to his new advantage and will be there every step he needs me to be in whatever capacity. I’m just grateful that I get to play a small part of a weekend that I hope he won’t soon forget. If I had a drink in my hand I would lift it up right now and give a toast. You know what? Lets do it. Right now I’m holding up a Mike’s Hard Lemonade and saying, “To Jordan, one of my most dearest friends, you think too much, you’re flakey, and you didn’t help clean up the apartment nearly enough. But I love you to death and wouldn’t want you any other way (expect maybe help clean up a little more). Cheers."

What A Day Part II of II

Click here for Part I

Moreover, that was only the first part of my day. I had to get to my second job (working at my sister’s 7-11 store). My sister Vicky had me train a 17-year-old girl who was working there for the first time. The store is located in the heart of East Los Angeles, not really the best part of town. Great. I had to wear my “big brother” hat as well as my “be nice to A-holes” hat.

This was 4th of July weekend so the store was as busy as the freeway I just got off. As I was showing the new employee the ropes I also had to make sure the 1700 people in the store weren’t stealing, the slurpee machines were all working, and help the 85-year-old woman pick out all her scratcher tickets. I’m truly astonished by people who actually think they’re going to win big with these scratcher tickets or lotto tickets. If most of those people started doing the math, for every $10 they win they probably spent about $100.

For several hours it was a complete madhouse but by the grace of God I was able to maintain my composure although there were several times I wanted to light up some of the customers. Like the drunk guy who couldn’t fill out his lotto sheet because he was too drunk. The line was out the door and this guy wanted me to fill out his lotto sheet for him. I said, “Sure, would you like me to make dinner reservations for you too?” Or the young guys trying to flirt with the new worker. I had to interrupt them mid-sentence saying, “Would you like a bag? (before they could reply) No? Okay have a nice day. Next in line please.” Then there was the dude that didn’t even know how to play the scratcher tickets he bought and wanted me to check to see if he won. Really? Isn’t that like going up to a blackjack table and not knowing what the cards mean? Everyone, including the dealer, would think you’re in idiot and they would be right.

At the end of my shift, I took a deep breath and was thankful the Lord got me through that day as I drove home in my air-conditioning-busted car. What a day, indeed. I’m hoping the Insurance field will help me out of my second job. Even though I love my sister to death and enjoy helping her business succeed, if I continue to work there any longer I might commit a homicide. However, regardless of the rough spots on this day, it was a good day.

What A Day Part I of II

I recently finished my first finance class on Personal Financial Planning. The class got me interested in the Life Insurance field so I signed up to take the Licensing Exam in L.A. The exam was on a Friday and I was studying like crazy that week staying up late nights and thinking to myself, “What in the world did I get myself into?”

Studying for this exam brought me back to my college days at Biola University. However, instead of my college buddies keeping me company during the late nights it was the dog (Buddy) that stayed up with me. It’s probably more productive that way. During college, when the exam got closer and closer I would get stressed out and start trying to distract my buddies from studying. Since there wasn’t anyone to distract I had to focus on studying. Bummer. During the late nights, while Buddy was trying his best to stay awake he would fall sound asleep by my feet. While asleep he would begin dreaming about whatever dogs dream about. I know this because his eyes were closed but he was still growling.

Finally the morning of the exam arrived. I got up extra early to get some more time in studying. Googled the directions to the test site in L.A. and took my wife’s GPS. The test was at 1pm and I left about two hours early. The Google directions and the GPS were saying two different things but I didn’t realize that until half way there. Despite leaving two hours early I was pressed for time. Only in L.A. is there “rush hour traffic” without it being rush hour. My air conditioning is currently not working so it felt like a million degrees in my car. If I’m late for the exam they close the doors and you have to reschedule.

Let’s recap: I’m running out of time despite leaving early, stuck in L.A. traffic while confused about the directions, and it’s a million degrees. That’s not exactly what you want to be going through before taking a big exam you’ve been studying for all week.

I had to call my wife for clarification on the directions. I mean we are talking about downtown L.A., not exactly the easiest place to get around if you don’t know where you’re going. After getting off the freeway, I decided to follow the GPS and it directed me right into a single lane construction site over a set of train tracks. Guess what? . . . wait for it . . . a train arrived and the one lane ceased to move. I was shaking my head in complete frustration while a Cal-Trans worker saw me and sympathized with me by saying, “That’s Eff(ed) up huh?” I nodded in agreement.

After the train finally passed by I was praying up a storm. Not so much in seeking the Lord that things will work out but to repent from cussing up a storm from the train delay. I finally got to the building and parked across the street for $9.00. Normally I wouldn’t mind parking further away if it meant not paying for parking but since I was pressed for time I gladly paid.

Entering the building there was a security check, of course. I finally made it to the test room after 27 total turns within the building. Despite the angst I made sure that I was friendly to everyone. Apparently, the workers there didn’t feel obligated to do the same. You simply hand them your ID and they check your name off of a list and tell you to sit at a computer. If you ask for help they have the “I can’t believe you’re asking for help on something you’ve never done” type of attitude.

Finding my computer I logged in with my password and begin the exam. The test site condition was slightly above a meth-lab and guess what? The air conditioning was not working and everyone was complaining about it. Sweet! Instead of listening to everyone complaining about the lack of air conditioning I thought about the time while I was in High School playing summer league. It was a tournament at Whittier High School and we played three games in one day (9am, 11am, then 1pm). The gym was about a million degrees but we played through it and won all three games. I said to myself “If I went through that basketball tournament I could go through this.” I love this game, so many life lessons to be learned.

I quickly finished the test with 33 minutes to spare. You turn in your paperwork back in the front and the employees rudely tell you to sit in the waiting room. After about another 30 minutes of waiting a person comes out with a batch of papers, which are the test results. They proceed to call people’s names but because of the lack of toner in the printer they had to tell you whether you passed or not in front of everyone. So I watched with eager anticipation as several people went up to receive their test results with a couple of “It looks like you passed” and a couple of “Sorry you didn’t(s).” The person handing out the results completely butchered my name, not surprising, and tells me I passed and to proceed to finger printing.

I joyfully walk up to the fingerprinting lady and tell her “Hello, how are you doing?” She says, “Fine” with a “Why the h*ll are you talking to me?” tone. So I just shut up and let her take my fingerprints. As I do cartwheels all the way to the parking lot I realize I actually paid $9.00 for parking and become upset again. In perspective though:

Life Insurance Exam = $37.00
Fingerprint scan = $60.95
Parking = $9.00
Passing your exam on the first try? = Priceless

My wife packed me a peanut butter and jelly sandwich with some trail mix. Remember that it was a million degrees so when I got to the car all the chocolate in the trail mix had melted to the point where I couldn’t open the bag because it was so sticky. Fortunately the peanut butter and jelly sandwich made it. Now I have the “pleasure” of driving out of downtown L.A. traffic while eating my sandwich. I don’t get how some people think that honking their horns in anger repeatedly and flipping every off would help move traffic along. I would simply tip my sandwich to them as I passed by.

Click here for Part II

The Summer of Prayer

It’s summer time! Oh wait. I have to teach summer school for the second straight year. Maybe I shouldn’t be that excited. Last year, I missed out on a vacation with the family to Mammoth, a beautiful place I’ve never been to. Sweet. Of course I had a close encounter with God while teaching nine boys with Autism. Go figure.

Despite teaching summer school again, I always have goals that I set for myself for the summer time (e.g., How much can I bench press? How high can I jump? How much can I improve my shot? How could I read the pick-and-roll better? How many books can I read off my “must read” list? How many people can I dunk on? Okay, I made that last one up but you get the point.).

I recently finished 2 Samuel and at the end of the book, king David angered the Lord for “numbering the people” (2 Sam. 24:1). The Lord sent a pestilence (an Angel) that killed 70,000 people. David admitted that he did something foolish (ya think?) and built an altar to the Lord. David then sought to purchase a sacrifice off a guy named Araunah. Araunah offered it to David for free but David said, “No, but I will surely buy it from you for a price, for I will not offer burnt offerings to the Lord my God which cost me nothing” (24:24). The rest of the chapter goes:

David built there an altar to the Lord and offered burnt offerings and peace offerings. Thus the Lord was moved by prayer for the land, and the plague was held back from Israel (24:25 - emphasis added).

I was, again, amazed that God could actually be moved by our prayers. In addition, my church is starting a preaching series on Prayer. So far, it’s been extremely helpful. My prayer life has always been inconsistent and at times, a downright struggle. So this summer, instead of having goals that really don’t mean that much in the eternal picture of things, my goal is to bolster my prayer life in a way that my soul will benefit as much as my body does from hours at the gym.

The elders of my church have done an outstanding job of teaching us about prayer. Instead of giving you an exposition on prayer right now, let me just tell you that it’s a struggle for me. If God weren’t real, there are still many benefits to being a Christian. There is a social benefit from meeting with people at church. There is an educational benefit from reading our Bibles. But if God weren’t real, then prayer makes no sense. At the core of my struggle is simply a lack of faith in believing that God truly hears my prayers and answers them (even though I don’t always like the answer).

I don’t know what bolstering my prayer life will look like or what “results” I’ll have. Maybe that’s the difficulty of it all. When I hit the weight room I not only see the results but I also feel stronger. I’ve gone through seasons in my life with rich prayer time but don’t “see” or “feel” any different. Maybe I’m not supposed to see or feel anything and simply believe that I’m honoring God with my prayer time. Even though I don’t have everything figured out, I know that through my prayer time, time in the Word of God, and listening to the sermons at my church it might all come to me. In the meantime, I’m just going to enjoy concentrating on praying for things I know I need to be praying for. And maybe that’s what it’s all about, simply enjoying that time with God and allowing your mind to meditate on things that really matter.

This may be especially true now that the NBA is headed towards a lockout and we might not even have a season next year. I even asked my wife, “What am I going to do if we lose the season to a lockout?” She replied, “Pay more attention to me or I’m locking YOU out.” Well then, without an NBA season I could simply devote myself to my wife, more prayer, and time in God’s word. Or maybe I’ll just pray that the lockout could be avoided completely. Either way, I know in the grand scheme of things that it’s the state of my soul and my relationship with Jesus is what matters, not the state of the NBA. Of course if the Lakers get Dwight Howard in a trade this summer, I’ll recant the previous paragraph.

That’s A Wrap

What a great NBA season!!! And an even better NBA Finals! In the aftermath there has already been plenty of ink spilled over Lebron’s 4th quarter disappearing act, his post game comments, and everything else All-Lebron. Sadly, the Dallas Mavericks, you know the team that won, are almost an afterthought. Dallas Coach, Rick Carlisle said it best, “When are we going to stop talking about the reality show that is Lebron James? And when are we going to start talking about this team?” Emphasis on the word “team.”

I don’t want to talk about Lebron. Throughout the Finals it felt like the Miami Heat were Wade’s team anyway. I want to talk about the big picture. There’s a reason why everyone outside Miami wanted the Heat to lose. There’s a reason why most people are rejoicing and happy to see players like Dirk Nowitzki and Jason Kidd win a championship. There are people giving Rick Carlisle his due for an outstanding coaching job and rightfully so.

Most of us know about The Decision 11 months ago by Lebron James, Miami’s “Welcome Party” and Lebron predicting “not 5 . . . not 6 . . . not 7” championships (maybe you should've stopped at "not 1?"), and Wade and Lebron mocking Dirk’s sickness in front of the Dallas camera crew before game 5.

Bill Simmons said it best:

Let's say you're in college and one of your buddies says, "See that girl over there? I'm taking her home tonight. And I'm doing this because I'm the funniest and best-looking guy in this room." And let's say he's COMPLETELY serious. Guess what you're doing if it doesn't happen? You're making fun of him. Relentlessly. Really, that's what 50 percent of the Miami-related vitriol was about; the other 50 percent was because LeBron tried to stack the deck by playing with his biggest rival (we didn't respect it), and because he broke Cleveland's hearts on national TV (we didn't like it). To this day, LeBron hasn't shown any real regret about last summer; that's the main reason everyone rooted against him. He couldn't handle it. He caved. And now we're here.

People hate arrogance and see humility as a virtue. It’s rare to see a superstar in Dirk, who is humble and uncomfortable with getting attention. When he left the court at the end of game 6 to be by himself, no doubt to weep uncontrollably because he was overcome with emotions, the team had to convince him to come back out. Dirk would’ve been completely content being by himself with his thoughts and the 13 years of pain as a result of coming up short for all those years. After coming out of the locker room, Dirk received his Finals MVP trophy, well deserved. The camera cut to Dirk’s shooting coach Holger Geshwindner standing there observing the cerebration while tearing up. It was the look of a proud father who has put in all the hard work in his son and realizing the blood, sweat, and painful tears was all worth that exact moment. It made me think, “How does EVERYONE not love this game?” It’s so much more than basketball but the story of human emotions and epic tales triumphs and failures.

We look at Miami and see arrogance and entitlement. We cheer Dallas because their star is humble and his supporting cast knew their role. The “Team” beat out “Pure Talent” once again. But what does this say about us as society? Doesn’t this point out to some objective reality that arrogance is bad and humility is good? Anyway.

Now with the NBA Draft over and the NBA heading towards a lockout and possibly losing an entire season it’s caused me to reflect more on why I love this game because, you know, we may not have it much longer. The virtues in basketball are often direct parallels to virtues that could be found in everyday life, which is another reason why I love the game so much.

For the record, I don’t think Lebron is a bad person just a 26-year-old who has been worshipped his entire life who lacks some self-awareness. Okay, enough about Lebron. My point is there are always good narratives throughout the NBA. It’s not just a game but stories within stories that are interesting, complying, and often times (for me) provoking. Whether it’s the Lebron James “taking his talents to South Beach” story, Derrick Rose rising to superstar statue or Dirk’s journey to redemption, the narratives aren’t scripted, which is the beauty of watching the stories unfold before your very eyes as they take shape in front of you. Lets hope these stories continue and not end because of the lockout. That would be a bad ending to any story.

The Return to The Motherland

It’s official. I’m taking my wife to The Motherland – Thailand, in order to see my people. I honestly thought about when this would happen ever since we got married. There’s this sense of obligation to take her there in order for her to see a special side of me. Yes, looking at the price of airline tickets made me want to vomit but when else were we going to go? We plan on “starting a family” this time next year (I hate that phrase. Why does it only become “a family” when you have kids? Why can’t it just be my wife and I and the dogs? I mean besides the fact that I hate the dogs.). So we needed to do this now before the kids come and ruin our lives.

Furthermore, I know if my mom were still alive she would’ve FORCED me to take her to The Motherland and tell me how much of a tightwad I am and to quit complaining about the price. My mom would’ve come along and “shown her the town” and displayed her passion to see her people hear the Gospel of Jesus Christ. It was truly a beautiful thing to watch. She would share the gospel with whomever she came into contact with. You simply wondered, with deep conviction, why you didn’t have the same passion. She also would’ve made some phone calls and made me preach at about twenty different Christian churches. I would then be thinking, “I didn’t know there were twenty different Christian churches in Thailand.” She would’ve also taken us to restaurants that no GPS could even find and she would probably know the owner as well. I’m missing my mom as I’m writing this.

Truthfully, this trip makes me a little nervous because my mom isn’t here. She was the one who planned the trips and set the itinerary. Even during my mission trip with Tim Dinkins in the summer of 2005 (the last time I was there), he was the one who set the itinerary. Like my wedding, my wife does the planning and I just show up. It can’t work that way this time because she’s never been to The Motherland. The responsibility falls on me to make sure this trip is productive and fun for my wife. This goes against my philosophy to avoid responsibility at all cost but I realize that this trip should be an experience that my wife will forever remember as 1) a trip to meet part of her new family on her husband’s side 2) experiencing fun and exciting new things 3) and seeing a side of her husband that she would never get to see otherwise. Daunting, but I think I’m up for it (maybe).

Having family in Thailand is great. I talk about my uncles quite a bit. One happens to have several business ventures. One day, I’m just going to spend an entire summer there and ask him to teach me how to make money. I call him, “Uncle Fat Cat.” He speaks Chinese, French, and Thai (of course) but his English is down right awful. Every time he tries to speak to me in English I just tell him to speak to me in Thai because it’s painful to listen. It’s like he’s having a seizure every time he tries to annunciate something. I have another uncle who’s a big time manager over at Toyota. I call him “Uncle Big Time Toyota” or “UNK-BTT” for short. He’s in charge of all the accounts in most of Asia. Yet, he won’t hook me up with a car. Yes, my uncles have deep pockets but they don’t give handouts. Maybe that’s why they have deep pockets. I have a third uncle in Thailand. He’s a wild card, that’s why I call him “Uncle Wild Card.” The reason that he’s a wild card is because I have no idea what in the world he does and he refuses to tell me. So I make-believe that he’s a manager of an underground fight club. I haven’t even mentioned my aunts and crazy cousins yet. This should be interesting.

My wife has never been to Thailand and has always wanted to go. As I’ve already mentioned, if we don’t go now we’ll probably never end up going. It’s an opportunity for me to show my wife (white-blonde-from-California) the inner workings of the Thai culture. She loves experiencing new and exciting things and I think a trip like this qualifies. I want to give her memories that she’ll cherish forever, memories she could look back on before the kids come and ruin our lives. She gets excited with the thought of visiting The Floating Market, riding Elephants in the wilderness, seeing exotic beaches and rafting down wild rivers, all of which is yawn-city for me because I’ve done those things a thousand times (Well, I don’t get tired of exotic beaches but still.). Most people at this point say, “How could you EVER get tired of doing things like that?” My response is, “It’s the equivalent of people in Orange County who get tired of Disneyland.” People who don’t live in or around the OC get excited about the thought of going to Disneyland. Although I don’t live in Bangkok, it’s the same thing with riding Elephants and visiting The Floating Market. Furthermore, I remember watching a Thai-horror movie as a kid with a giant alligator attacking and eating people at The Floating Market. It scared me from ever wanting to go to The Floating Market the same way Jaws scared me from ever wanting to swim in the ocean. It was so bad I didn’t want to even swim in swimming pools. I know I have issues but lets move on.

I never really look at myself and notice that I’m Thai. I just think I’m “me” plain and simple. However, there is something about our heritage that informs us about a little of who we are. I don’t agree with the idea that we need to find our complete identity in our ethos, but I also don’t agree we should completely forget about it. God created us with diversity for a reason and I’ve learned to embrace that very unique part of me- although if I had my choice, I would be 6’8 with a Lebron-type of build and talent. Instead, God choose me to be a 5’10 Thai-guy with little to no talent. Whatever. I’m over it (sort of). Maybe my wife leaves this trip knowing the Thai culture a little better and as a result knows me a little better. For an amazing woman such as her who loves me the way she does, that might be worth the whole trip. You know, before the kids come and ruin our lives.