Walking: It's Really Not That Hard

Walking.  It's something most of us have done since we were knee-high to a grasshopper.  I love that phrase, "knee-high to a grasshopper," especially since I got tagged with the nickname "Grasshopper" way back in '92.  But I digress.

Walking is the most fundamental of methods of locomotion for most of us homo sapiens.  All over the world, in all sorts of weather, people walk.  Some people walk long distances, others only a short way, but the vast majority of human beings on this planet walk.  It is with that in mind that I make the following declaration:

Bangkokians do not know how to walk.

Sure, folks in Bangkok know how to move by placing one foot in front of the other, first the left and then the right, in a repeated pattern.  What they don't know how to do is walk in an effective, efficient pattern that allows everyone to get where they need to go in a timely manner.

This is something that's been bugging me for awhile, but exacerbated last month as I stayed after work to play basketball in the Embassy's annual tournament and commuted home using the train and commuter vans rather than the normal shuttle vans that run between our place and the Embassy.  Part of that commute involves walking on the elevated walkway around Victory Monument.

Here are a few clues that you might need to be a little more aware of how your walking is affecting the ability of those around you to get to their desired location.

• If very few people are passing you going in the same direction, you're slow.
• If nobody is passing you going the same direction, and there's significant space between you and the next person in front of you, you are slow and you're blocking the walkway.  Probably with the three friends you are with, none of whom are even slightly cognizant of the fact that you are all blocking the walkway.
• If you are constantly being bumped by people walking the opposite direction as you, you're too far in the middle.  Move right.  Or left.  Pick a side.  Just get out of the middle.
• You've all seen street vendors spread their wares on a blanket along the side of the walkway.  You don't have to stop and look over the shoulder of the other 35 people huddled around that vendor.  Besides, they're counterfeit goods.

While we're on the subject, could everyone just decide which side of the walkway to move, please.  I know street traffic here moves on the left-hand side.  But sidewalk traffic is like Thunderdome; every man, woman, and child for his/her/itself.  Slow walkers stay to the outside and let those of us who want to move faster than 3 kilometers an hour move along the inside.  Thanks.

I really shouldn't complain all that much.  The elevated walkways are literally express lanes compared to the walkways along streets like Sukhumvit, Phetchaburi, and Silom, where the street vendors occupy fully three-quarters of the sidewalk with their stalls.  Maybe I'll stop complaining now...

Oh Yes, She Did Eat That...

As our good friend Heidi recently blogged, McDonald's here in Thailand has decided to offer a radical new delicacy as part of their dessert menu (Heidi, you can thank me later for the serious bump in traffic to your blog caused by my two faithful readers--thanks Mom, hi Maggie!).  And my dear wife, being the intrepid woman she is, decided that she simply had to give it a go at our most recent family outing to the Golden Arches.

I made that picture extra large so you can see what highlighted.  Yes indeed, my friends, Mali did in fact purchase and consume the McDonald's Broccoli Pie.  Remember folks, this is the same country that offers vanilla ice cream with corn swirl (KFC) and the taro and corn dessert pie (gee, thanks Burger King, not sure what I would have done without that in my life...).

Not only did Mali herself partake, she asked our children to taste it.  Anne said she got lucky and only had some of the cheese.  Benjamin, a self-proclaimed broccoli-phile, said that he really liked it.  After finishing said "delicacy" (I use that word in the same context I would for those fried insects you can buy from street vendors), Mali said that it was a little too sweet, as the outside was exactly the same as what they use for their apple pies.

I'll take their word for it.

THE FINGER BREAKFAST CAKE DUN DUUN DUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUNAH!

The last in our series of blog posts by my children.  This is Sarah's entry.

this morning dad asked who stuck their finger in the breakfast cake. it wasn't me, or maggie or anne. it couln't be ben or jane, a, because jane can't reach the stove.and b, because ben wasn't in the kitchen the whole morning ecxept for breakfast time, and c, ben and jane's fingers are not as big as the mark. we all thought it was anne because she said ," i don't touch things that are hot!" we all gasped{ecxept for anne} because how would she KNOW it was hot if she didn't touch it. but then she said, "i know because it just came out of the oven."
after i got ben for breakfast and we said prayer dad said HE did it by saying,"i did it. i was carrying the breakfast cake with one hand and the mitt got in it."
then we all ate breakfast.
THE END.

Enchiladas v.s. Jane by Anne

Part Two in a series of three guest blog posts.  This entry comes from my oldest spawn, Anne.

Jane is a picky eater. Last night, Mom made us enchilada casserole before she and Dad went to the movies. It was hard to get Jane to eat because of several reasons.
1. She fell asleep on the floor
2. She does not like anything that's not french toast, bagels, toast, cereal, Lucky Charms marshmallows, and breakfast cake topping.
3.She doesn't always know what she is eating.

I fed her a small piece of chicken, she took 5 minutes to chew it, and then I told her to sit up. Before I commanded her to sit up, I asked her if she liked it, and she replied saying "I looooove it!"

She sat up and saw the enchilada on her plate. Ten seconds later there was a ground up lump of slimy chicken in my hand, and some bits on the floor.

A little while later she took another bite, after knowing what it was. Instead of extending my hand to let her empty her mouth of chickeny and creamy tortillas, I told her to spit it up in the toilet. It worked but I hope she flushed.

Elephants by Maggie the Aw-EE-Sum

This is the first in a series of blog posts written by my lovely children.  Our first entry comes from Maggie.

One day we were going to a chicken place. About halfway there everybody said "There's an elephant on the road!" Except me. I said "Where?" Dad said "There." He pointed outside, on the road. I still didn't see it. I couldn't see an elephant. Soon I looked over and I saw an elephant. And it was a big one! On the way home we saw another one. Sarah named it Stake. It might have been the same one.

Peace out home dogs!

The WorstThing About Running Barefoot...

...is having snappy comebacks for all the comments I get from my so-called "friends" who see me out running sans footwear.  I mean, around where we live where it's such a closed community, you can seriously only use a given reply a few times before it gets lame and stale.  A sample of some of my retorts:

• "What do you mean I'm not wearing shoes?" (look down at my feet)  "Woah, you're totally right, I'm not wearing shoes!  I should probably run home and get some..."
• "Shoes are just an artificial construct, engineered by The Man to keep a Brother down."
• "I'm trying to run down the guy that stole my shoes.  Let me know if you see him." (Tried this one for the first time tonight)
• เกิดมาไม่มี ตายแต่เอาไม่ได้ (keut ma mai mee, tai tae ao mai dai - "I was born without shoes, and I can't take them with me when I die").  This I think has been quite clever, at least for those who speak Thai or Lao.

Of course it would be great if those same so-called "friends" could come up with something a bit more creative than, "Hey, you forgot your shoes!"

By the way, the second worst thing about running barefoot is stepping on snails.  Trust me folks, it's pretty gross.

When You Pay 60 Baht* for a Haircut, You Get...

...a 60-baht haircut.

Left side--looks great, very clean.
Right side--also looks fantastic, nice and tidy. 
The PROBLEM?  The two sides don't match.

Next time, I'm going back to the shop that charges me 80 baht.  You get what you pay for, after all.

*For those of you keeping score at home, 60 baht at today's exchange rate is two American dollars.

Apparently It Doesn't Pay (Well) to Be Polite



Courtesy Bangkok Post, 4 March 2011

  As you can see, I had a bit of a rough patch in late October (pre-Halloween doldrums) followed by a pre-Thanksgiving bump, and then dipped again in December (sandbagging prior to Christmas), but I've been going pretty strong since.  And I'm still beating Dubai and totally killing it compared with WTI (whatever that is).

On second thought, this chart should probably be labelled "hair length."

Smoking in Thailand

Thailand has some of the most disturbing anti-smoking pictures, ever.  And by law they are required to put them on the cigarette packages.  Not being a smoker myself, I really have no problem with this.

I do, however, have an issue when pictures like this

are right next to the cash register at the cafeteria here at the embassy.  I mean nothing says, "Mmm, can't wait to dig into my yummy pad thai!" quite like the sight of what's left of someone's nicotine-coated gums and teeth.  And trust me, that's one of the least gruesome of the cigarette packages out there.  Pass the som tam, please.

I do have to admit however, that one morning last week in my I'm-up-and-moving-around-but-that-doesn't-mean-I'm-awake (ลุกแต่ไม่ตื่น) state I thought that one of the Thai cigarette brands was "Khong Thep" (ของเทพ), which would translate to "Heavenly."  I found that deliciously ironic, right up until, in a moment of greater mental clarity (this morning), I double checked and realized the brand name was actually "Krong Thip" (กรงทิพย์)  Boy, would that have been embarrassing to blog about!

What Is This Blog About?

I wrote that title in complete and utter sincerity.  I know I'm not the first, nor will I be the last, person whose frequency of posting is initially tremendous (dare I say "prolific?"  No, even I'm not that pretentious), only to have it severely taper as time goes on.  Thailand initially gave me so much fodder as we got to know our way around and accustomed to the differences here.  Now that we're a few months away from leaving Thailand, everything that was once so fresh/new/bizarre/amazing is now commonplace.  I mean seriously, we don't even blink anymore about paying for airline tickets at 7-Eleven or when we see a man standing off the side of the road urinating.

So I was wondering what I could blog about.  More than once I've blogged about running, but I haven't been running lately.  I could blog about the plantar warts and bruised heel that have kept me from running the last two weeks, but who wants to hear about that.  By the way, when you pull the core of a wart out, it bleeds.  A lot.  Hurts, too.

I thought about blogging about work, but the work I do is generally so bland and boring that nobody in their right mind would want to hear about it.  When Mali has trouble falling asleep, she asks me about what I did at work, and that usually does the trick.

Long story short (too late!), I am trying to make a commitment to write more.  Some entries will be good, some I'm sure will qualify as certified steaming piles of literary doo-doo.  But blog more, I will--nay, I must!