My boss and I spent Friday evening watching the Typhoon Signal 3 weather come and go, wrecking havoc on party dresses, high heels, and hearing the Michael Jackson medleys blaring from every bar up and down Lan Kwai Fong.
Tonight LKF had two competing dead icons – Hong Kong Elvis and a gweilo Michael Jackson - sporting a goatee dressed in leather red and black Thriller getup, drunk, sweating, and occasionally grabbing his crotch, doing a Michael Jackson kick, and shouting “sha-moan!”
On one 45 degree angle sloped street, the King of Rock and Roll battled against the King of Pop for the hearts and minds of those with loose change.
My boss and I watched amused.
We had tried leaving our outside table at La Bogedas – but always the Typhoon Signal 3 would throw its rain – so we would order another round and stay dry and protected under the eve of the salsa bar.
“I think I am getting behind,” I said as I took my beer glass in my hands. “My buddy Nick is having a baby, engaged, and here I am.”
“Yeah, he is kicking your ass.” And he laughed at his comment.
“But that’s why I chose not to take that job with Obama – not yet anyway. Hong Kong will be the longest I have ever stayed somewhere. Ever since I was a child, my parents and I have moved every three years. It has become a habit. Almost part of my genes.”
“And when things get hard, or when the pressure comes to commit, you run. You did it in Europe. You did it in South Africa. And you nearly did it here. One day you have to stop running.”
I nodded and offered my glass and we clinked in an unspoken cheers.
“Home is a person not a place,” I put out there.
“Maybe so, but you need to stay in one place long enough to build something with a single person.”
“Yes.” I changed the subject a bit. “The isolation with H1N1 really showed Sophia’s real colors. She stood by me through the whole thing.”
“Its amazing she didn’t get it.”
“I kid her that she gave it to me so she was immune first.”
We sat in silence and watched the drunken revelry in front of us.
Finally my boss revealed, “This is my last beer. I need to get home. My daughter returns from Melbourne tomorrow.”
“Okay.” And feeling it was a bit urgent I took another long drink. “See I envy you. You have built the family. You and your wife have a fantastic relationship.”
My boss laughed. “Shit. Its hard. You have your ups and downs. But you push through. You make sure you create more goods than bads.”
Just then my Blackberry vibrated. I pulled it in front of me and saw the SMS from DJ Gruv. He was playing Kee Club and put me on the guest list. I sms’d him and told him I was on my way.
“You need to build something or you will always be at this place you are now.”
“Which is?” I asked.
“Wondering why you haven’t built something.”
“But can’t you build something where you have both? The life of passion and adventure plus home and stability?”
“You can choose a Cougar.”
“Huh?”
“A woman once or twice married – has had the straight life – the one where she followed the rules of society and found it was just that – the rules of society. Now she wants the passion and adventure.” And he laughed hard.
“You bullshitting me?”
He laughed but went serious. “Maybe a little. But know that life is about compromises. Either with yourself or with another person. Find someone who allows you to be who are and become who you should be. Or…” my boss paused.
Just then, the gweilo Michael Jackson showed up drunkenly in front of us and was dancing and performing in front of Zinc. The other drunk men were imitating and laughing.
“Or what?” I asked.
“You will end up like Michael Jackson.”
“Loving kids and monkeys?” I responded back quickly trying to be funny.
“No. Your life becomes greater in death than when you were alive.”
Tonight LKF had two competing dead icons – Hong Kong Elvis and a gweilo Michael Jackson - sporting a goatee dressed in leather red and black Thriller getup, drunk, sweating, and occasionally grabbing his crotch, doing a Michael Jackson kick, and shouting “sha-moan!”
On one 45 degree angle sloped street, the King of Rock and Roll battled against the King of Pop for the hearts and minds of those with loose change.
My boss and I watched amused.
We had tried leaving our outside table at La Bogedas – but always the Typhoon Signal 3 would throw its rain – so we would order another round and stay dry and protected under the eve of the salsa bar.
“I think I am getting behind,” I said as I took my beer glass in my hands. “My buddy Nick is having a baby, engaged, and here I am.”
“Yeah, he is kicking your ass.” And he laughed at his comment.
“But that’s why I chose not to take that job with Obama – not yet anyway. Hong Kong will be the longest I have ever stayed somewhere. Ever since I was a child, my parents and I have moved every three years. It has become a habit. Almost part of my genes.”
“And when things get hard, or when the pressure comes to commit, you run. You did it in Europe. You did it in South Africa. And you nearly did it here. One day you have to stop running.”
I nodded and offered my glass and we clinked in an unspoken cheers.
“Home is a person not a place,” I put out there.
“Maybe so, but you need to stay in one place long enough to build something with a single person.”
“Yes.” I changed the subject a bit. “The isolation with H1N1 really showed Sophia’s real colors. She stood by me through the whole thing.”
“Its amazing she didn’t get it.”
“I kid her that she gave it to me so she was immune first.”
We sat in silence and watched the drunken revelry in front of us.
Finally my boss revealed, “This is my last beer. I need to get home. My daughter returns from Melbourne tomorrow.”
“Okay.” And feeling it was a bit urgent I took another long drink. “See I envy you. You have built the family. You and your wife have a fantastic relationship.”
My boss laughed. “Shit. Its hard. You have your ups and downs. But you push through. You make sure you create more goods than bads.”
Just then my Blackberry vibrated. I pulled it in front of me and saw the SMS from DJ Gruv. He was playing Kee Club and put me on the guest list. I sms’d him and told him I was on my way.
“You need to build something or you will always be at this place you are now.”
“Which is?” I asked.
“Wondering why you haven’t built something.”
“But can’t you build something where you have both? The life of passion and adventure plus home and stability?”
“You can choose a Cougar.”
“Huh?”
“A woman once or twice married – has had the straight life – the one where she followed the rules of society and found it was just that – the rules of society. Now she wants the passion and adventure.” And he laughed hard.
“You bullshitting me?”
He laughed but went serious. “Maybe a little. But know that life is about compromises. Either with yourself or with another person. Find someone who allows you to be who are and become who you should be. Or…” my boss paused.
Just then, the gweilo Michael Jackson showed up drunkenly in front of us and was dancing and performing in front of Zinc. The other drunk men were imitating and laughing.
“Or what?” I asked.
“You will end up like Michael Jackson.”
“Loving kids and monkeys?” I responded back quickly trying to be funny.
“No. Your life becomes greater in death than when you were alive.”
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