Presently, I am
not in Pusan.However,
after reading the works of some of its writers, it sounds like
somewhere I would like to be.I write today in recollection
of an experience I had in the front yard of a Korean family here
in the suburbs of Louisville, Kentucky.It was this month, July, that
brings me the annual remembrance of an ordeal that has etched my
mind and self worth forever.
I am sure we all remember those wonderful Catholic
picnics that infrequent the summer in most cities in the United
States.You know, those
charitable events where the people running the booths are
swelling with beer breath, trying to coerce you to take a chance
on a homemade cake – a cake worth fifty cents, that to win you
must spend over fifty dollars on chances.This particular evening I was
by myself wandering about the various booths.My wife, who was attempting to
complete her Masters degree, ran me out of the house so she
could work in peace.I
don’t drink, smoke or gamble, so pretty soon this picnic started
to become a real drag.Aside from that, I was starting
to feel a little queasy-- for prior to my arrival I stuffed
myself with Thai food at a restaurant called ‘Thai Siams,” which
was located next to the church.Of course this place was
nothing more than a bunch of guys from Thailand who took
advantage of small business loans being up in Kentucky and
opened a restaurant. To order your food you had to point to the
appropriate picture on the menu.
Feeling sicker now, I left the picnic to
make the four block journey to my truck, which was parked far
away in a muddy field roped off and patrolled by another good
Catholic man toting a clear plastic cup of beer.Being alone in that field,
putting on a good beer buzz, he was more than eager to talk the
ear off any passer by, including me.I escaped his lonely wrath and
made it to my truck telling him I had an emergency to deal with.
Shortly after telling that little lie, an emergency started
emerging in me.
Stuck in the traffic of parading mini-vans
trying to make their way into the festival, I started to get the
overwhelming urge that I had to shit.I am sure we’ve all had that
feeling.But I had never
felt it like this before.There I was, stuck in a row of
cars while the beer guzzling parking attendant flapped his
lonely jaws.I mean I
really had to shit!This
was starting to become an emergency.I couldn’t remember exactly
what I had eaten at that Thai Restaurant, but it was about to
change my world forever.I
was even afraid to take my foot off the clutch, less I would
release my clinched position of holding it all back.
In a desperate move of Dukes of Hazard
style driving, resembling Joe Mannix or Tony Baretta, I squealed
out of the line of cars, flinging dust and gravel everywhere to
free myself from my trapped situation.I figured if I was going to
shit in my pants, I could at least be on the move where no one
could see me.Racing to
the nearest gas station I pulled around back to where I was sure
there would be restrooms.Fate was on my side!I noticed that the door, which
was spray-painted with lovely poetry and art, was cracked and I
could see the light on inside.Running awkwardly, from the
knees down, I barged in the door.To my surprise, there were a
couple of teenagers smoking a joint in there. I think I really
freaked them out.Some big
tattooed Bozo told me to get out and then he locked the door
behind me.
Standing there, flinching with all my
might, I could see where my life had taken me.It was one of those moments
when you had to make a decision.I had to think of something
fast.Grabbing some fast
food napkins from the glove compartment of my truck, I just took
off running down the street that ran adjacent to the gas
station.At this point my
life was starting flash before my eyes.I was just waiting for the
unthinkable to happen.I
was just trying to find one house; one yard that didn’t have
porch lights or motion detector lights that would expose
me.I was really starting
to run out of options.Then I saw it, my salvation; a
house that seemed to be dark.Large shrubbery towered up the
front, which would provide the needed shelter for me to dispel
my situation.
I am
not proud of it, but I did it. . . right there between the
shrubs.Other than a few
bug bites on my buttocks, it looked like everything came off
without a hitch.Affixing
my clothes, and getting myself together, I wandered back out to
the sidewalk to blend in with the many pedestrians on their way
to the Catholic Festival.It looks like I pulled it
off.I made my way to my
truck, went home and went to bed.I felt sure that my first
experience eating Thai food was over.
The
next morning I was at work kind of reflecting on my dilemma the
previous night.I was
working at a garden center where my brother was the
manager.I was just
earning a little extra money on the weekends.As I watered all the flowers
and enjoyed the beautiful morning, I noticed a Korean man
wandering about the garden center.He spent over an hour looking
around.Finally I just had
to go ask this man if I could help him.“Can I help you find anything?”
I asked.Bowing repeatedly
he said,
“Do
you sell any kind of wired frenching?” He replied.
“Wired frenching?”I aksed.
“Yesa, I need wire frenching to protect my rard.”
“Oh,
you must mean wired fencing.Yes, as I matter of fact I do
have some chicken wire.Follow me.”
“I
must take action,” the little man said, “Last night a very large
dog was in my yard and left a mess between my shrubs.It looked like this dog even
ate McDonald napkins.Now
I will border my yard with fence.”
Almost unable to obtain my composure I helped the man
load the roll of fencing on his little Mitsubishi pickup
truck.It was taking
everything I had not to laugh out loud.
Continuing his bowing, the little man turned to leave
saying,
“My
wife asked me, what kind of dog eats corn and peanuts?What kind of dog eat McDonald
napkin?What kind of
person let a dog run around like that?”He yelled.
“I just think that’s horrible,” I
said.“I think a dog like
that should be shot!You
have a good day, and good luck with your yard.”The little man drove off and I
returned to my chore of watering and caring for the plants.Often I have wondered what I
was to learn from that experience.Every July I get a little
reminiscent of my experience with Thai food, coupled with the
Korean family whose yard I visited.I plan on going to the Catholic
Picnic soon, as well as take a walk down that same street.Like Jack the Ripper running
loose, I shall pass right by that house, wondering if I will
ever be exposed.Sometimes
I feel like I should just walk up and knock on the door and tell
them that I was the dog.I
was the dog that should be shot.Instead I just pass by.Sometimes there’s a little
Korean boy playing in the yard enclosed in the chicken
wire.One of these days I
will stop and introduce myself, but for now, I just keep
walking, up to the gas station to use the bathroom
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