Saigon West

Before May 2002 my interaction with Viets was limited. Then I got a job representing Vietnamese, and my exposure increased dramatically. Before then I knew all about the Vietnam War, as my buddy from high school was a huge fanatic about that: Tet this, Khe Sanh that, “Apocalypse Now”, etc. Now it was my turn to get inundated with Viets at a personal and professional level.

Apparently Northern Virginia has the second largest concentration of Vietnamese living in America (California is #1). Seven Corners is the center, with a mall, the Eden Center, which flies the south Vietnamese flag (yellow with three horizontal red stripes down the middle) and is full of Vietnamese restaurants, karaoke bars, jewelry stores, and travel agencies. My office was 5 minutes away, and frequently clients were given directions from the Eden Center as a landmark. I’ve eaten there a few times, and even sampled its club, the Diamond Club, a few nights, though not recently.

I tried several times, but could not manage to learn Vietnamese, beyond a few phrases. All those accents throw me off, and I think I’m past the peak of years where absorption of a new language is something my brain can handle. Portuguese is still locked in at #2.

For that matter, I’m not a big fan of the food either. Much of it, like most Asian food to my palate, reminds me of the Star Trek episode where Riker tries to sample Klingon cuisine. Uggh. Using chopsticks is a no-win situation: obviously they’ll laugh at you if you can’t seem to manage it, but even if you do get it right (as I do) they’ll laugh at you with wonder – “wow, the monkey did it!”.

I also got to know something of the Vietnamese personality. Unfortunately, the more I learned, the less I liked it. Like most Asians, Viets don’t seem to understand the Western notion of “objective reality”. The “truth” and “honesty” are alien ideas, the province of stupid, naïve, childlike Americans too foolish to lie effectively. An honest Viet is hard to find – either they’re Catholic or heavily Americanized. They’ll tell you what you want to hear and get pissed if you don’t behave the same way. [However, the guy who painted my car is 100% redneck, yet shares the same “tell him what he wants to hear so he doesn’t get completely pissed off” way of doing business. He does great work, he just takes forever to get it done. Despite that, he’s a nice guy. People are pretty complex.]
One of my secretaries dated a Vietnamese man who constantly checked up on her at the office – insanely jealous. She thought it was endearing and cute. And this same girl warned me: there’s a good reason why Vietnamese men are so jealous of their Vietnamese wives and girlfriends (“where there’s smoke, there’s fire”, was how she put it). One of my cutest clients was the victim of a husband who ruined a great thing by being too jealous; damn idiot couldn’t deal with it, but given how attractive she was, I could understand how he felt. He just took it too far.
I’m not a big fan of Asian women, who all too often look as though they never even went through puberty. I’m into women, not girls; occasionally some of them seem to actually have a figure, breasts, etc. Many of them seem to have a mean streak and ability to spend money like it’s going out of style. A former secretary’s sister had a shirt that read “You Better Make More Than I Can Spend”. Another secretary, only one-quarter Vietnamese, pointed out that the girl should have a shirt that says “Size Doesn’t Matter As Long As You Buy Me Stuff”. Add that to the lying, unfaithfulness, low attractiveness, Klingon cuisine, a majority preference for Vietnamese men, and the odds of finding a decent Vietnamese woman are pretty low, which is why I’m not even looking. Most of the offers seem to be regarding someone’s sister or cousin back in Vietnam who needs a green card. All too often, American men are only good as husbands to get a green card or provide unlimited amounts of cash to spend on their wives’ Vietnamese lovers behind their backs. Hell, Viet women cheat on their Vietnamese husbands – what chance does an American husband have expecting the woman to be faithful? [To be fair, though, a certain Eastern European country on the Black Sea does a remarkable job of producing beautiful women who are just as greedy, deceitful and unfaithful as Vietnamese women tend to be. But that’s another story.]

The Viets vary considerably on their level of assimilation. Some speak almost no English at all despite having been here since 1975. They only eat Vietnamese food, won’t watch a movie if there are no Asians in it, and have to drive a Honda, Nissan or Toyota. At the other extreme are Viets who have been here for a long time, hardly speak a word of Vietnamese, and act exactly like Americans. My office manager’s oldest son is completely Vietnamese yet doesn’t speak a word of Vietnamese. To hear him talk, and the way he acts, he is completely American. All his wives have been white Americans and all his children are Amerasians. The rest seem to fall somewhere in between: using cell phones and shopping like Americans, but rarely watching US TV or movies or listening to any music sung in English. This is one department where I can’t, and won’t, paint them all with the same brush.

I’ll finish off with a few concessions. (1) I have never been to Vietnam, or anywhere else in Asia. My impressions on Viets are due to my dealings with the ones here. (2) I have met a fair amount of Viets who are outstanding and treat me fine. They’re not all slime. It was simply discouraging to see the same behavior resurface again and again, and find myself liking them less and less the more I got to know them. Maybe I should simply go to Saigon – accompanied by someone, as I don’t speak Vietnamese and have no hope of fitting in – and wrap up this chapter in my life.

Red Is The Color

I’ve just finished watching a few of Michael Moore’s movies, and my earlier conclusions and suspicions are confirmed. He is Red, Red, Red.

Roger & Me. This was his first movie. He went to Flint, Michigan (where he grew up) and busted on General Motors for umpteen minutes. GM created Flint, but also – so he claims – destroyed it by shutting down plants. As if it was GM’s duty to keep plants open just to give people jobs. I found his arguments less than persuasive.

Canadian Bacon. Fiction: the US trumps up a war with Canada when the Cold War peters out and the Russians refuse to play along. A bunch of stupid Americans try to invade Toronto, believing it to be the capital (try Ottawa) and various SCTV people get a chance to be in a movie. Dan Akroyd was quality as the trooper who advises them to repeat the nasty anti-Canadian slogans in French as well as English. Given that we haven’t invaded Canada long after the Cold War ended, I’d say this idea was pretty stupid, though it probably served to amuse a few Canucks.

The Big One. Moore goes on a tour of the US promoting his books, and stopping by various corporate headquarters along the way to hassle, harass, and embarrass various corporate PR people and media escorts. Not much happens, the highlight being his meeting in person with Phil Knight of Nike. Honestly, the odds of finding a plant full of Americans willing to put sneakers together for $5.50 an hour is pretty damn low.

The analysis here shouldn’t be how low Indonesian Nike wages are compared to US minimum wages, it should be how they compare to other wages in Indonesia. If they were paying less than the prevailing wage in Indonesia, why would anyone there work for Nike?

Then there’s this business of prison labor. How sorry are we going to be for prison inmates doing telemarketing or customer service for less than minimum wage? They’re in prison! I suppose the alternative is someone in India doing the same. Should I wonder, “hmm, this person doesn’t sound Indian. Are they in prison?” Does it really matter? Again, if Americans were willing to do this for the same price, we wouldn’t be hiring prisoners or Indians. Economics, pure and simple – and nothing wrong with it.

Bowling for Columbine. Thanks to Moore, we know who to blame for the shooting in Columbine. No, it wasn’t the two boys. No, it wasn’t Marilyn Manson. Hold your seats, people, it was K-MART! Yes, the chain was responsible. Lovable, boring, big-ass and cheap K-Mart was the merciless murderer of those poor kids in Colorado. We had no idea. Who will K-Mart murder next? Stay tuned.

Fahrenheit 9/11. More propaganda. In Mein Kampf, Hitler describes propaganda as, “don’t fight fair, fight dirty. Never acknowledge the other side’s points. Don’t argue rationally. Just cram your message down their throats, repeat the lies, and shout louder than the other guy. It’s a war.” Similar deal here. Whether it’s busting on Bush for Carlysle group connections or Saudi ties (which applied to past presidents, administrations, and Democrats), blaming Bush for Oregon’s State Police budget (try blaming Portland instead), trying to get us paranoid about FBI or sheriff’s snoops on harmless peaceniks (who were never even arrested) or simply busting on US troops in Iraq, Moore strikes out on every issue. Far from being left with a damning, smoking gun no-brainer indictment on 9-11, we simply have an incessant string of vague innuendo, tenuous connections, and mysterious allegations. When’s Moore going to tackle the Kennedy Assassination? I guess he hasn’t figured out which American multinational company to pin the blame on.

Sicko. Here he takes on the US health care system. All well and fine to slam the US system – which does have its faults – but to suggest we adopt what they have in France or Cuba? Come on. There is NO WAY the US taxpayer would accept the 90% tax rate necessary for these so-called “free” health care systems (which aren’t free, of course). So we’re back where we started.

TV Nation/The Awful Truth. I caught a few episodes of these, but did not watch them consistently. The one that sticks out in my mind was when Moore painted a tractor trailer red with a yellow hammer & sickle, and drove by various truck stops trying to elicit some sort of recognition from the trucking proletariat. Nope, not much class consciousness along the highways of US.

He also wrote an article for The Nation years ago (I wish I could find it) in which he slammed US leftist intellectuals for being snobs who wouldn’t deign to have a beer, bowl a few pins, or (God forbid!!!) hunt with Joe Sixpack, the American Proletarian. These are the American workers: how are you going to win them over writing obscure books full of Marxist jargon 99.99% of these people will never read? Don’t talk about “bourgeois”, “proletariat”, “capitalist imperialist exploiters”, etc. Simply ask them if they think they’re getting a raw deal from management. Paul Wellstone had the right idea. Fortunately for us, the Wellstones are few and far between.

Books. I haven’t read any of his books. His movies are annoying enough, why go through the hassle? Hell, it took me ages to see “Fahrenheit 9/11” because I wasn’t keen on giving Moore any of my money.

Ralph Nader. Before Moore, there was Nader, causing a stink. I recently heard him speak at one of these eco/green conventions in DC, badmouthing corporate America as usual. I’ve read his book Unsafe at Any Speed. Granted, GM was being a major dick with him, and the Corvair was a shitty car – an idiotic competitor to the Mustang, and far outclassed by the Camaro and Firebird which should have been GM’s answer in the first place. But he seems to ignore Volvo and other companies which voluntarily introduced safety features without government mandates. The reality is, if people want to pay for safety they will. But the fact that Volvo doesn’t have a lock on the market suggests that consumers sometimes have other priorities than safety. Maybe they’re not Nader’s preferences, but who cares what Nader wants in a car? He doesn’t speak for anyone except himself and the tiny minority of leftists. However, I do hope he runs again and draws off Osama/Clinton voters so McCain can win (even though Ron Paul is my choice).
Both Moore and Nader are clearly lefties (to use the food analogy I brought up last week, watermelons: green on the outside, red on the inside). Moore never met a corporation he liked. I suppose if you wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, you could say that he simply wants to hold corporate America accountable and expose bad companies.

Fine. But why not show us good companies too? We know they’re out there. Why not show us a company that treats its employees fairly – or even one that’s employee-owned (you NEVER hear about them from Moore and Nader). The obvious reason for this is that his ultimate motive is to make us mistrust corporations as an aggregate and capitalism as a system. For that matter, neither have I ever seen Moore do the obvious thing: purchase stock in a company and show up at its annual shareholders’ meeting to bitch and gripe.

Nor does he spend much time talking about unions. Many leftists (including many of America’s various socialist parties) dislike unions because they represent an attempt to work within the capitalist system instead of overthrowing it. It’s a sellout to The Man, they claim. To the extent workers get tangible benefits and a decent wage from a union, that shows the system works, right? Why give us a totalitarian North Korean regime – or even watered down “market socialism” like Denmark or Sweden with 90% taxes – when we can get what we want within the US capitalist system?

I see the European model as being philosophically incompatible with American culture. Americans are the adults who moved out of their parents’ house in the 17^th century and grew up. Europeans are the 30-somethings still living at home, living off mom & dad. They pay 90% taxes and keep a small, nominal allowance. Mom & Dad pay their health insurance, rent, education, etc. and provide for their needs. After that, what more do they need?

Paul Weaver. Having busted on Moore, I’ll mention Weaver’s book, The Suicidal Corporation. (I’m still reading John DeLorean’s book, On a Clear Day You Can See General Motors, which I’ve momentarily misplaced and will finish when I find it). Weaver started out as a neoconservative who felt that Big Business got a bum rap from Nader and the left, and went to Ford in the late 70s to help them set the record straight. Once there, however, he learned that much of the shit that Big Business catches is well-deserved, and most of it brought upon itself by its own idiotic political maneuvering. Moreover, there was NEVER a “Golden Age” in which Big Business was pro-capitalist; for the most part of its history, since the late 19^th century, business has behaved badly, has never been pro-capitalist or pro-market, and has constantly sought government favors and protection. He describes a corporate atmosphere reminiscent of Atlas Shrugged (Ayn Rand) with Cuffy Meigs, Orren Boyle and Jim Taggart, and uncomfortably close to Mussolini’s Italy. The book is dated from 1988, the tail end of the Reagan era (he wasn’t phenomenally impressed by Reagan) and is 20 years out of date. But many of its points are well taken, so I won’t call Moore and Nader 100% off the mark.

So where does that leave us? Capitalism does work, although it also, quite obviously, has problems. But that doesn’t mean the solution is revolution, as Moore and Nader so quietly shout (don’t get me started on Rage Against the Machine).

Black Is The Color

It’s time for another somewhat esoteric and abstract discussion, this time about something pretty vague: the color black.

For a long time, it’s been my favorite color. I can’t explain why; I suppose it’s just a matter of taste. I’m not even a goth, nor have I ever been.


Cars. I had my Formula painted black in 1997-78 (from its original dark aqua metallic), and having seen Knight Rider, it’s clear that few cars suit the color as well as a ’92 Firebird Formula, with its sleek body and asymmetric hood. It suits the car even better than it does ’76-81 Trans Ams, especially the Special Editions (aka “Bandit models”) as I’m not a big fan of black & gold. Car manufacturers report that black is consistently a popular color, ever since the Model T, which of course was only offered in black. Unfortunately for cars, black is the color least forgiving of dents, dings, and other imperfections – and white is the most forgiving, which is why pickups and utility vans are so often white. Any car looks best in black, but it’s most alluring and flattering for performance cars.


Guitars. My Gibson Explorer and Fender Stratocaster are both black. I’d have bought my Gibson SG in black too, but that particular model, the ’62 Reissue, was only available in cherry. Since Stratocasters have been available in solid colors – after the two-tone sunburst they originally came in, in 1954 – since 1956, black has been the one color, year after year, which has always been available. Eric Clapton’s famous Strat is black, and the color is now available for his signature model. The Les Paul Custom is traditionally black, although it’s available in other colors as well, notably white and silverburst (favored by Adam Jones of Tool).


Race. I suppose as a white person, my own preferences are irrelevant, but I prefer the term “black” to describe that race, better than the alternatives. Obviously “colored” and “negro” are out of fashion, yet “African-American” seems a little too stilted. Those of us of European descent don’t refer to ourselves as “Polish-American”, “German-American”, or “Irish-American”, etc., especially since with such heterogeneity among not only whites but also multi-racial mix these days, it would be cumbersome, inconvenient, and really stupid for any of us who aren’t complete pedigrees to insist on that. Of course, black people are more brown (aside from some from deep, dark Africa), but aside from albinos, white people aren’t really “white” (more like pink), and Asians aren’t really “yellow” either. I’ve heard the expression “oreo” (black on the outside, white on the inside); is there a “snowball” (white on the outside, black on the inside)? Or a “twinkie” (yellow on the outside, white on the inside)? Or “egg” (white on the outside, yellow on the inside)? We could go on with these food/race analogies for awhile. Be that as it may, I think as a racial description, black is best: it’s simple, descriptive, and devoid of value-judgments.


Music/Songs. “Fade to Black” by Metallica, “Back in Black” (song and album) by AC/DC, “Paint It Black” by the Rolling Stones, not to mention Metallica’s self-titled fifth album, are just a few examples. Ritchie Blackmore tended to dress in black, but for some reason rarely favored black guitars. Black Sabbath also comes to mind. Then there's Spinal Tap....


Clothing. The black uniform of the Allgemeine SS (General SS) of Nazi Germany comes to mind, but these days, an all-black uniform is most likely the province of hair dressers. “Dieter” from Sprockets is long over…. I have a black suit, a black dress shirt, a black tie, and dozens of black t-shirts collected over the years of going to metal concerts, though I can’t say I wear black much more often than any other color.

Doonesbury

It’s Blog 100! Woohoo! But nothing special this time, just more of the same. In this case, a “tribute” to Doonesbury, the famous liberal comic strip.

I still read it as often as possible, including the Sunday version. I’m by no means a fan of the politics: politically, I’m closest to B.D., who is far and away my favorite character. I got But This War Had Such Promise expressly because it’s the one in which B.D. goes to Vietnam. After years of wearing a football helmet (first Walden, then the Rams), then the Kevlar helmet (after Desert Storm), later a CHP trooper motorcycle helmet, back to a Kevlar helmet for the Iraqi War, now he’s bareheaded for once. He’s also mellowed out somewhat over the years, though he’s still conservative and married to Boopsie. I like that despite his politics, Trudeau has always made B.D. a human and sympathetic character.

Mike Doonesbury, the main character, is somewhat liberal, but not really political. Back in the 80s he was a Reagan Democrat; tolerant of liberal policies and watered down socialism so long as it actually seemed to work, but willing to jump the fence for a compelling Republican. He started off in a relationship with Joanie Caucus, but eventually married her daughter J.J., an aspiring artist, until she dumped him for some complete loser their daughter calls “Uncle Stupidhead” (Zeke). Now he lives in Seattle, working as an ad exec or something like that, with the daughter and his new wife, some cute Asian chick.

Joanie married Rick Redfern, an almost exact copy of Robert Redford’s portrayal of Bob Woodward, even to the point of working for the Washington Post. She became a congressional aide to Lacy Davenport. Their son is a Gen-X slacker who interned for…the CIA.

Mark Slackmeyer was the hardcore communist, at odds with B.D. He started out normal until Trudeau decided he needed a gay character, so BOOM! He came out of a closet he never seemed to be in in the first place. His father was a hugely corrupt ENRON/establishment guy, so naturally there was considerable mutual hostility.

Zonker Harris. The lovable hippie, either working on his weed or his tan. His nephew is friends with Joanie’s son.

Reverend Scott Sloan. The “hip young priest” who can “talk to the young”. He’s always involved in some protest or other. ZZZZ. At his funniest in the “Doonesbury Special” mentioned below.

Uncle Duke. The eccentric, doped up lowlife always involved in some shady scheme and zonked out of his mind on some drug – including some fictitious drugs. At one point he was running a med school in the Caribbean, at another he was actually a Haitian zombie. He’s modeled after Hunter S. Thompson. He’s usually accompanied by his “mistress” Honey, a fairly ordinary looking but smart Chinese woman who’d gladly have his children if he even realized who she was – or that she was female.

Various politicians, portrayed in novel ways. Bush Sr. appeared as a talking “dot” (as if there was really no one there – a nonentity). Quayle was simply a feather suspended in air. Newt Gingrich was a talking bomb (“bowling ball candle” as Seinfeld would put it). Bush II is a Roman centurion helmet, nowadays somewhat battered. Arnold Schwarzenegger, the “Gropenfuhrer”, is a disembodied hand in a groping gesture. Bill Clinton was a floating waffle (his groping got a free pass, it seems).

Doonesbury Special. This was an animated special from 1977 which we came across years ago and still watch from time to time. I have practically all the dialogue memorized, including the football scenes. It’s still not on DVD, and it was never translated into a full animated series. Too bad. It features two songs by Doonesbury-exclusive artist Jimmy Thudpucker, which I actually liked enough to tape.

Walden. The fictitious college they went to, loosely based on Yale, the alma mater of Trudeau…and George W. Bush, though Walden is portrayed as a second or third tier school and not an elite Ivy League school. B.D. played quarterback for the football team. Zonker’s nephew goes there – Mike’s daughter wound up at M.I.T.
I’ve already mentioned the politics. It’s a bit underhanded: if you agree with them, then take them at face value; but if you disagree, the response is “hey, it’s just a cartoon.” Even so, he’s not as nasty and radical as Michael Moore. I find the stories and characters far more compelling and interesting than the politics anyway.
The controversy which has occasionally erupted over the years is a bit silly, giving Trudeau far more credit than he deserves. He should be viewed no better or differently than any other cartoons following characters over time, mainly “For Better Or For Worse”, though Doonesbury is considerably wider and more interesting than that cartoon.

I’ll end with a few gems from the special:
“Ella Fitzgerald is NOT a building contractor!”
“Percussion! The Innkeeper is playing percussion!”
“All I’m saying is, have we in any way prevented future Vietnams?” (Mark). “Future Vietnams, what was wrong with the old one? We did what we had to over there!” (B.D.)
and “Delay…of…game…. TOUCHBACK!”