"The knight slays the dragon and then lives happily ever after with the princess in the castle, but when they've moved in together, they have to share a bathroom. How do you keep love alive in a domestic situation? What is it about that that dismantles love?"
-Ryan Gosling
KNIGHT: Honey, you’ve been in the bathroom for an hour already! Are you almost done?
PRINCESS: Excuse me, but I had to wait in that stupid tower for “an eternity” before you finally showed up. Who are you to tell me about waiting? (opens the door) Stop whining.
KNIGHT: Whining?! Who had to risk his precious body to slay that dragon when you were crying out?
PRINCESS: Don’t you try that again. You’re not the only one who’s slain a dragon before. I’m sure lots of other handsome men would have done the same – men that actually put the damn toilet seat down.
KNIGHT: For God’s sake, I’m a knight! Knights don’t care about insignificant things like toilet seats.
PRINCESS: Apparently, they don’t care about aiming for the bowl either.
We all know how the fairy tale ends – the strong, dashing knight in armor sweeps the beautiful princess off her feet and onto his gleaming white horse as they ride off into the magnificent sunset. As the story fades to a close, we see a heartwarming image of their intertwined lives in the future, complete with double rainbows, blue skies, prancing rabbits and a choir of birds, serenading the lovers as they continue off to the castle. And at last, we are met with the iconic phrase of fairy tales: “and they lived happily ever after.”
Or did they?
In the vast majority of fairy tales, the knight saves the day and then marries the beautiful princess. All is well in the Kingdom, for the monster of the land has been slain. The End.
Well, I hate to burst your bubble, Mr. and Mrs. Knight, but the story has only just gotten started. Remember know that fat, flaming dragon you had to kill? Well, it turns out that the dragon was just a little warm-up for what’s coming next.
Take a moment to look at your lover face. Study it closely. Try to remember all your "firsts" as a couple -- the first time you met, your first date, your first anniversary, your first vacation.
But eventually you will look into those same eyes and see not "firsts," but "lasts." The last time you would trust him to go out alone with female coworkers. The last time you would let her sign up for yet another credit card. The last time you would ever say "I love you."
By no means do I understand all the intricacies of marriage, but judging from today’s divorce rates, neither do the majority of first-marriage couples. As unromantic and vile as it may sound, love really isn't something that you can depend on to stay constant in a continuously evolving world. Perhaps in middle school and all those delusional fairy tales, love at first sight and blind infatuation are all that matter. But all too often, that initial spark of first love doesn't last.
Sooner or later, maybe those daily kisses on the cheek will turn into a somber “Hi” or even a mere nod. For every conflict that arises, a marriage based solely on romantic infatuation weakens. “How are we supposed to pay these bills?” “Why did you buy another designer-brand purse?” “Why don’t we go out anymore?” “Why can’t you put the toilet seat down?” In all honesty, it's pretty difficult to be romantic towards someone who is berating you for your mistakes.
Arguably, the real “dragon” that the knight must conquer is not that oversized lizard with fiery breath, but the challenge of building a marriage that holds to their wedding vows: till death do us part.
A marriage is not meant to be like some prepackaged microwave dinner that you can just buy and enjoy. It takes serious and dedicated effort on both sides to work, a requirement that some are unable to meet.
I don’t think it is “true love” when the princess finally meets her one and only knight and gets married right after.
Indeed, that’s probably why those fairy tale authors never included what happened afterwards. It’s too depressing to accept that true love isn’t about romantic infatuation, but about the perseverance needed to keep that initial spark alive long after romantic infatuation has phased out.
No pain no gain.
Tuesday, January 24, 2012
the very first column
Apparently, I’ve got all the characteristics of a loser: I worry more about my grades than what I wear, I think more about my homework than the opposite gender, and when it comes to hanging out, pretty much everyone has learned not to bother asking me. Oh, and those little things called “iPods?” I’ve never owned one. Besides, what kind of loser writes his column about being a loser?
Despite the glaring evidence, I wasn’t going to accept my “loserhood” so easily. I figured my own family would find some reason to explain how I was most certainly not a loser. After all, we can usually count on our family to provide some level of support, artificial or not. So I asked.
Unfortunately, all I got in return was a big fat yes.
Sure, I could accept the “fact” that I was a loser. But my mind isn’t trained to allow stabs at my pride so easily. I figured this was merely a test of my mental fortitude, and I was determined to convince myself that I was indeed, a winner.
It turns out that, like most things, “loser” is a relative term. The reason I care so much about grades, more so than whether I wear American Eagle or some other “popular” brand, is because I understand their importance. All the walking advertisements for Hollister can laugh now, but like Bill Gates said, “Be nice to the geeks. You might end up working for one.” Coming from a guy who makes 300 dollars a second, you would do well to listen. By the way, did I mention he used to be called a loser?
But it takes more than self- belief to be winner. You must act like a winner as well.
It is not so much what others think of you that creates your image, but what you think of others. We can all learn to treat everyone politely and sincerely. Other than a few habitual changes, doing so would not be of great cost or effort. A simple “no big deal” in place of a “you suck” can make all the difference in maintaining others’ dignity and self-esteem. Acquiring respect is a mutual process. Only by first treating others with respect can you then earn it yourself. Otherwise, one would just pass as cocky.
Whether you are personally a winner or not is actually not important. What matters is that you can recognize the winner in others.
Despite the glaring evidence, I wasn’t going to accept my “loserhood” so easily. I figured my own family would find some reason to explain how I was most certainly not a loser. After all, we can usually count on our family to provide some level of support, artificial or not. So I asked.
Unfortunately, all I got in return was a big fat yes.
Sure, I could accept the “fact” that I was a loser. But my mind isn’t trained to allow stabs at my pride so easily. I figured this was merely a test of my mental fortitude, and I was determined to convince myself that I was indeed, a winner.
It turns out that, like most things, “loser” is a relative term. The reason I care so much about grades, more so than whether I wear American Eagle or some other “popular” brand, is because I understand their importance. All the walking advertisements for Hollister can laugh now, but like Bill Gates said, “Be nice to the geeks. You might end up working for one.” Coming from a guy who makes 300 dollars a second, you would do well to listen. By the way, did I mention he used to be called a loser?
But it takes more than self- belief to be winner. You must act like a winner as well.
It is not so much what others think of you that creates your image, but what you think of others. We can all learn to treat everyone politely and sincerely. Other than a few habitual changes, doing so would not be of great cost or effort. A simple “no big deal” in place of a “you suck” can make all the difference in maintaining others’ dignity and self-esteem. Acquiring respect is a mutual process. Only by first treating others with respect can you then earn it yourself. Otherwise, one would just pass as cocky.
Whether you are personally a winner or not is actually not important. What matters is that you can recognize the winner in others.
Monday, January 23, 2012
column - Thomas and friends
Whatever happened to Thomas?
We used to spend hours together with my Brio railroad set, saving the wooden townsfolk from imminent starvation with the help of a roguish outlaw train (that is, an outlaw guilty of defying the laws of physics by jumping directly off the tracks in a mad dash to the town square). We used to go door to door on Halloween, blowing our train whistles incessantly until the neighbors would shoo us away with extra packets of Skittles. I can barely remember a day in my childhood when Thomas wasn’t by my side; we crossed so many bridges together – literally and figuratively.
So uh, how do you like it in my closet, Thomas?
Toy Story 3 is a brilliant movie. Almost everyone I’ve asked has loved the movie, from my parents to classmates, and for good reason. To most of us, the storybook ending did it for us and our handkerchiefs: it was the perfect ending to such an emotional ride.
Afterwards, I couldn’t help but think of all my friends when I was still a puny kid in elementary school (by friends, I mean toys.) Sure, I felt pretty bubbly inside as I left the movie theater. But at the same time, I felt this strange feeling of guilt.
It must have been good old Thomas the Tank Engine yelling at me through his cardboard box in the closet.
It’s easy to say that kids have to outgrow their toys at some point in their lives, and that’s certainly true. Who cares about their old Barbie Dolls anyway? I know I don’t. There is a reason that toys have age recommendations on them – certain toys just don’t hold any appeal once we get older. As time passes, toys often lose their novelty and just aren’t cool anymore.
Still, isn’t it a bit intriguing that we forget and abandon our toys when we feel it is no longer cool to have them around?
Because even though we’re talking about toys, isn’t the same true for our real friends? Let’s be honest; by now, most of us have already changed our group of friends at least once in our lifetime, and in the process we have disassociated ourselves from old friends, no matter how close we once were to them.
But let me be clear: in no way am I a proponent of staying the course on a burning ship. To be honest, sometimes it’s advantageous to distance ourselves from our past. Many friendships are just not meant to last, for people inevitably change. Personally, I know I’ve since grown apart from most of my elementary school friends. People change. Life moves on.
Maybe that’s the whole point of the Toy Story trilogy: enjoy a good friendship while you can, but never be afraid to let go, as all good things must eventually come to an end.
And so too must this column end.
We used to spend hours together with my Brio railroad set, saving the wooden townsfolk from imminent starvation with the help of a roguish outlaw train (that is, an outlaw guilty of defying the laws of physics by jumping directly off the tracks in a mad dash to the town square). We used to go door to door on Halloween, blowing our train whistles incessantly until the neighbors would shoo us away with extra packets of Skittles. I can barely remember a day in my childhood when Thomas wasn’t by my side; we crossed so many bridges together – literally and figuratively.
So uh, how do you like it in my closet, Thomas?
Toy Story 3 is a brilliant movie. Almost everyone I’ve asked has loved the movie, from my parents to classmates, and for good reason. To most of us, the storybook ending did it for us and our handkerchiefs: it was the perfect ending to such an emotional ride.
Afterwards, I couldn’t help but think of all my friends when I was still a puny kid in elementary school (by friends, I mean toys.) Sure, I felt pretty bubbly inside as I left the movie theater. But at the same time, I felt this strange feeling of guilt.
It must have been good old Thomas the Tank Engine yelling at me through his cardboard box in the closet.
It’s easy to say that kids have to outgrow their toys at some point in their lives, and that’s certainly true. Who cares about their old Barbie Dolls anyway? I know I don’t. There is a reason that toys have age recommendations on them – certain toys just don’t hold any appeal once we get older. As time passes, toys often lose their novelty and just aren’t cool anymore.
Still, isn’t it a bit intriguing that we forget and abandon our toys when we feel it is no longer cool to have them around?
Because even though we’re talking about toys, isn’t the same true for our real friends? Let’s be honest; by now, most of us have already changed our group of friends at least once in our lifetime, and in the process we have disassociated ourselves from old friends, no matter how close we once were to them.
But let me be clear: in no way am I a proponent of staying the course on a burning ship. To be honest, sometimes it’s advantageous to distance ourselves from our past. Many friendships are just not meant to last, for people inevitably change. Personally, I know I’ve since grown apart from most of my elementary school friends. People change. Life moves on.
Maybe that’s the whole point of the Toy Story trilogy: enjoy a good friendship while you can, but never be afraid to let go, as all good things must eventually come to an end.
And so too must this column end.
The search - valentine's day
Every February leading up to Valentine’s Day, Charlie Brown lingers around the mailbox, desperately awaiting a Valentine’s Day card. And year after year, the merciless Charles Schulz has turned down Charlie’s wish.
On the other hand, my elementary school teachers, who were much nicer than Schulz, made us write a Valentine’s card for every classmate. Not only did this tradition provide good practice on writing the alphabet, it ensured no one would have to endure the same disappointment as Charlie Brown.
But a few years later, Valentine’s Day practically became taboo. The predominant attitude towards Valentine’s Day in middle school was one of immense contempt and disrespect. It was no longer cool to participate in Valentine’s Day. Why we thought that way, I’ll never know.
Interestingly enough, there was no longer a need for teachers to ensure that every student received a card. Most of the time, nobody did; the problem of students feeling left out had virtually solved itself. A card-less student in elementary school was now just like everyone else in middle school: too cool for Valentine’s Day cards.
Too bad Charlie Brown never made it to middle school.
So here I am, in high school. Valentine’s Day has regained its power, and I expect many couples to have something planned for February 14. People ask their crushes on dates now, and those cheeky boxes of candy hearts are making their way back. It seems like everyone suddenly got bolder and braver with Valentine’s Day festivities. There are actually people giving Valentines to friends now.
Well, of course, they’re not giving them to everyone, but still.
From high school onward, Valentine’s Day gains increasing importance. It becomes one of the most popular days to propose, to get married, or to mend a tight relationship. Now, there is pressure on adults to do something for Valentine’s Day. Why?
There is this commercialized aspect of Valentine’s Day that makes it standard for husbands to do something special on February 14. Whether he buys roses or chocolates, society has come to expect some monetary sacrifice for Valentine’s Day. Spending money for Valentine’s Day is now a requirement for showing your love.
The intent behind Valentine’s Day gifts is to make him or her feel special, at least for that day. But if everyone knows that the true motivation is that of some arbitrary expectation of society, chocolate and flowers on Valentine’s Day just doesn’t seem that special anymore.
Gifts are no longer an expression of true love; they’re just a ticket to getting out of trouble with one’s significant other. Even from the days of elementary school, valentines just don’t hold the same prestige anymore. So don’t feel down if no one gives you anything this Valentine’s Day. It’s not like a Valentine’s Day card means that much anyway.
I hope I made you feel better, Charlie Brown.
On the other hand, my elementary school teachers, who were much nicer than Schulz, made us write a Valentine’s card for every classmate. Not only did this tradition provide good practice on writing the alphabet, it ensured no one would have to endure the same disappointment as Charlie Brown.
But a few years later, Valentine’s Day practically became taboo. The predominant attitude towards Valentine’s Day in middle school was one of immense contempt and disrespect. It was no longer cool to participate in Valentine’s Day. Why we thought that way, I’ll never know.
Interestingly enough, there was no longer a need for teachers to ensure that every student received a card. Most of the time, nobody did; the problem of students feeling left out had virtually solved itself. A card-less student in elementary school was now just like everyone else in middle school: too cool for Valentine’s Day cards.
Too bad Charlie Brown never made it to middle school.
So here I am, in high school. Valentine’s Day has regained its power, and I expect many couples to have something planned for February 14. People ask their crushes on dates now, and those cheeky boxes of candy hearts are making their way back. It seems like everyone suddenly got bolder and braver with Valentine’s Day festivities. There are actually people giving Valentines to friends now.
Well, of course, they’re not giving them to everyone, but still.
From high school onward, Valentine’s Day gains increasing importance. It becomes one of the most popular days to propose, to get married, or to mend a tight relationship. Now, there is pressure on adults to do something for Valentine’s Day. Why?
There is this commercialized aspect of Valentine’s Day that makes it standard for husbands to do something special on February 14. Whether he buys roses or chocolates, society has come to expect some monetary sacrifice for Valentine’s Day. Spending money for Valentine’s Day is now a requirement for showing your love.
The intent behind Valentine’s Day gifts is to make him or her feel special, at least for that day. But if everyone knows that the true motivation is that of some arbitrary expectation of society, chocolate and flowers on Valentine’s Day just doesn’t seem that special anymore.
Gifts are no longer an expression of true love; they’re just a ticket to getting out of trouble with one’s significant other. Even from the days of elementary school, valentines just don’t hold the same prestige anymore. So don’t feel down if no one gives you anything this Valentine’s Day. It’s not like a Valentine’s Day card means that much anyway.
I hope I made you feel better, Charlie Brown.
The search - thanksgiving
I had already witnessed two ambulances speeding by on our trip to Saratoga, and on the way home, a team of fire trucks. Nonetheless, I didn’t give much thought to it, as it is pretty common to see ambulances blaring by an intersection.
In any case, my parents simply stopped the car each time and waited for the ambulance or the team of fire trucks to plow through the intersection. My mother casually asked, “Where is the sound coming from?”, and seconds later, when the ambulance siren disappeared into the distance, we carried on with our normal lives.
Two weeks ago, a family friend got involved in a car accident on the 880 freeway. He had been driving at the speed limit, and had only diverted his attention for a few seconds when he rammed into the car in front of him. The air bags popped up and the front part of the Lexus was ultimately destroyed. Fortunately, he is lucky to have survived the accident without sustaining major injuries.
But recently, one of my sister’s friends was not as fortunate. On a clear night in Riverside, Elena Marie Cadet passed away in a car accident, just five days before Thanksgiving. Elena was only 18, and in her freshman year at UC Riverside.
Some of us may have simply eaten our Thanksgiving dinner this year without sincerely considering our blessings first. And usually, I’m embarrassed to admit that I’m one of those people. But this year, the recent string of events really forced me to wonder: What if someone I love is next? What if I’m next?
We have all heard the siren of an ambulance approaching an intersection. And every time, we always ask the same question: “Where is it coming from?” If we have to get out of the way, then so be it. As the ambulance exits the realm of our sight, the cars start back up again, and we continue on to our destination. Everything goes back to normal, as if it had never been interrupted. “Where is it coming from?” and nothing more is said.
But have you noticed that we never ask “Where is it going?”
Every time an ambulance drives by with its horn blaring, it is a sign that someone out there needs help. How can we be so sure that an ambulance we see on the street isn’t driving towards someone we love who desperately needs help?
You never know. One day, it may very well be speeding towards you.
Now, I am aware that I’m not the only person who hasn’t given much thought to the motives behind every ambulance. Many of us don’t.
However, as the accidents began inching closer to people I knew personally, I’ve realized why I never considered the darker meaning of a speeding ambulance. The true reason that we act so casually to these occurrences is because we think that these kinds of accidents always happen to “someone else.”
Unfortunately, we’re all someone else to someone else.
In any case, my parents simply stopped the car each time and waited for the ambulance or the team of fire trucks to plow through the intersection. My mother casually asked, “Where is the sound coming from?”, and seconds later, when the ambulance siren disappeared into the distance, we carried on with our normal lives.
Two weeks ago, a family friend got involved in a car accident on the 880 freeway. He had been driving at the speed limit, and had only diverted his attention for a few seconds when he rammed into the car in front of him. The air bags popped up and the front part of the Lexus was ultimately destroyed. Fortunately, he is lucky to have survived the accident without sustaining major injuries.
But recently, one of my sister’s friends was not as fortunate. On a clear night in Riverside, Elena Marie Cadet passed away in a car accident, just five days before Thanksgiving. Elena was only 18, and in her freshman year at UC Riverside.
Some of us may have simply eaten our Thanksgiving dinner this year without sincerely considering our blessings first. And usually, I’m embarrassed to admit that I’m one of those people. But this year, the recent string of events really forced me to wonder: What if someone I love is next? What if I’m next?
We have all heard the siren of an ambulance approaching an intersection. And every time, we always ask the same question: “Where is it coming from?” If we have to get out of the way, then so be it. As the ambulance exits the realm of our sight, the cars start back up again, and we continue on to our destination. Everything goes back to normal, as if it had never been interrupted. “Where is it coming from?” and nothing more is said.
But have you noticed that we never ask “Where is it going?”
Every time an ambulance drives by with its horn blaring, it is a sign that someone out there needs help. How can we be so sure that an ambulance we see on the street isn’t driving towards someone we love who desperately needs help?
You never know. One day, it may very well be speeding towards you.
Now, I am aware that I’m not the only person who hasn’t given much thought to the motives behind every ambulance. Many of us don’t.
However, as the accidents began inching closer to people I knew personally, I’ve realized why I never considered the darker meaning of a speeding ambulance. The true reason that we act so casually to these occurrences is because we think that these kinds of accidents always happen to “someone else.”
Unfortunately, we’re all someone else to someone else.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)