Jason Jang

The last few weeks, I’ve been going up to Richmond Hill to visit my parents on Sundays. I’ve gone 3 Sundays in a row, which I’ve gotten quite used to. I like seeing my parents on Sundays, and eating Korean Food.

The reason for my weekly visit however, have been because I’ve set up a computer to my dad’s big-screen television in the living room, so that he can stream some Korean television programs off the net. I went back 3 times because each time I ran into a bunch of problems, and needed to regroup, and get new parts, or cables, etc.

I also gave my parents my digital camera, seeing as I barely ever use the thing anymore. So I taught my dad how to use Picasa, and import his photos, and email photos, which as it turns out came really handy.

It wasn’t even 30 minutes that I had left the house, finally satisfied with the new setup I had left my parents. Computer in the living room, wi-fi connection, and a new digital camera. But just 30 minutes later, I got a call from my dad. These days, a call from my dad usually means he needs some tech support.

“Something’s happened to ‘the firefox’” my dad says on the phone.
“Can you describe it?”
“Well, you know those quicklink things you setup for me, I can see that, but the picture is covering it. I can’t see anything” he said.

Totally confused, I tried to hash out what happened for about 10 minutes before giving up. “Sorry dad, I don’t know what the problem is. I’ll have to fix it next week” I said much to his dismay. Because it meant for another week he could use the computer on the big screen. After I hung up, I had a revelation.

I called my dad back and told him to take a picture of the screen, so I can see the problem. I was happy with my genius idea until 5 minutes later when he called back because he forgot how to email a photo already

I finally manage to receive a photo from my dad of the screen and here’s what I got.
It turns out my mom had played around with the computer managed to 1. disconnect the wi-fi connection, and 2. resize the firefox window really small so they couldn’t see anything. The picture covering the firefox window, was just the background picture.

It then took me a good 10 minutes to get my dad understanding the concept of borders, and resizing, and moveable windows. It was cute actually. I’ve been impressed how much my father is adopting technology.

“They’ve surpassed me!” my brother exclaimed when I told him I was installing a computer on our parents tv. It’s true. My dad checks his emails and uses the internet more frequently than my brother does.

I’ve had my share of doppelgangers. I’ve had my share of people come up to me thinking I’m someone else. Just this past weekend I had someone think I was some…Dancer.

Never have I ever been confused by my own doppelganger.

I found the video thanks to Arleen:

BOOMBOX from Ely Kim on Vimeo.

Watching this video has definitely been one of the strangest experiences in my life. I’ve been known to, on occasion, dance with similar intensity. Hell I like most of his t-shirts. And the song selection. Hell I’m even gonna steal some of his dance moves. But wow. If this video gets more popular. I have a feeling it’s going to effect my life somehow, if only for a little while.

The front room had some pretty decent music pumping, but I walked into the backroom of the Ossington, and noticed there wasn’t any music playing. I asked a girl next tome and it turns out it was private party. She was explaining something to me when allofasudden I notice to people staring at me as they approached me. I didn’t recognize them, and I thought they were looking at something else, but as they closer, I realized they were definitely looking at me.

“Are you the dancer?” the guy goes, with his female friend in tow.

I had no idea what they were talking about, and I’m pretty sure my face said. The strangers I had been talking to are looking at me now, wondering ‘is he famous?’

“um. What? I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

It crossed my mind that because it was a birthday party, maybe they had ordered some ridiculous male stripper dancer. Except, I’m definitely not the stripper looking type. And I found it all the more peculiar that I would even suggest that idea knowing very well what I do, do not look like.

“You’re the dancer. I know you are.” The guy said this as he passed, and patted me on the shoulder, his friend wide eyed as she passed. His tone was confident, so sure that he knew I was right, and he passed on without making a fuss as if saying ‘don’t worry dude, your secret is safe with me.”

He leaves, and my friends like “What the fuck?”

My notion exactly.

***

Later on I’m back in the front room, having a little dance, having a good time, when the guy comes back to me, putting on his jacket. He came over to say goodbye like he was my friend, and I reciprocated his brotherly handshake, only realizing after we’ve locked hands I didn’t know who he was. I had already forgotten what had happen just earlier.

“Have a good night. I know you’re the dancer.” His friend is standing a few feet behind, smiling.

“Dude, what is this you’re even talking about? What’s this dancing shit?” I ask him.

“You’re that guy in the video, you’re that dancer man. I know you are. what’s your name?”

“Jason.” I show him my belt buckle for proof. For the first time the buckle has had a purpose other than holding my pants up. I show him my belt buckle thinking he’d for sure believe me, that I wasn’t whomever he was talking about.

“Aww, I know you’re the guy. You have a good night man. Good night dancer.”

So what’s a guy to do? I said goodnight, and I woke up this morning scouring the vast archives of YouTube with various search iterations trying to find some intriguing video of a large asian guy dancing.

This was the closest thing I could find.

If they didn’t mean that one, they probably meant this one.

I’m second from the middle left right side.

Growing, I didn’t have a lot of problems being an ethnic person in Canada. I know my brother beat up his fair share of people for it, but I don’t even recall getting angry about it ever. Both my elementary school, and high school were ethnically diverse, dominantly Jewish and dominantly Chinese, respectively.

The only time I ever encountered any kind of racism was during my hockey career. Occasionally, members of the opposing team would shout ‘Hey Chink’ as I pass by their bench.

When I lived in Korea, I blended in nicely. But my poor language skills, and my obviously awesome English language skills again made me stick out a little. But again, I rarely felt any discrimination. Usually the stories or funny, or interesting.

This past weekend I traveled out to Lindsay, Ontario to visit a buddy for the night. Walking the streets of Toronto, you really notice the interesting make up of it’s demographic. You drive no more than 50 km out of the city, that can change drastically, depending on where you go. Markham is notorious for being a China-town. A lot of my brown friends from university all lived in Malton. Lindsay however, has pretty much one colour.

I’ll be honest, it was in the back of my head the moment I left the city. “I wonder if I’m going to have deal with anything tonight.”

There’s no reason for that thinking. I never struggled with being Korean, but it was still in my thoughts.

–

So we’re in this bar, fairly busy place. I’m the only Asian guy there, and we’ve got our group of people on the dance floor, and we’re all having a good time. As with any dance floor, you got the people traveling from A to B, which can be frustrating if you’re standing in what seems to be a freeway for dance-floor pedestrians.

One guy who’s going through, talking and meeting people as he goes, meets eyes with me and stops in his tracks. I had a big hood on so maybe he was surprised when he saw me. But in my, out loud he goes “Whooaa”.

I couldn’t help but laugh. He laughs uncomfortably realizing his faux pas, and goes “It’s cool man.” and pats me on the back and proceeds onward.

It was cool with him that I was Asian. That’s good to know.

Wrote a Christmas song this year. Check it out here.