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United States, North Carolina, Carrboro, English, Paul, Male, 56-60, All Music, All Food.

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Tuesday, January 14, 2003

Virtual Stephane runs the VIP dining room at the plant I'll call Larry's Goodstuff, in honor of my favorite mushroom (I wonder how he's doing. Before I left, I tilled the compost casing to get old roots out so new mushrooms could grow, maybe one last wave. When I was done, Larry II stood alone, like Ozymandias in the desert. Liz is doing the misting while I'm gone and will also fix up the new generation for dinner). Back to Stephane. He's Korean, but as I noted last night, he's the universal surly waiter and maitre d' with the universal faux Franco accent. They only make one model, though they alter the features slightly to suit their operating locale. They are manufactured on a distant planet in the Gallic Galaxy, where the species is born in a tux with the right fork in their mouths. On the first day, when we arrived at the dining room, Stephane had all our places set with the array of bowls that apparently accompany a traditional Korean meal (later note: each bowl is called a "chop", and there are usually an odd number of them - 5-chop, 7-chop, 9-chop, etc.). It never occurred to me that we would be eating so much Korean food, so I came totally unprepared in the culinary sense, which is okay because I'm here to learn about new laptops, not food. Anyway, when he brought the grilled fish, he placed it to the left of my left elbow, out of range for even my fork - out of the question for my apprentice chopstick skills, especially the silver ones that are more slippery than wood. So I moved the fish in front of me, where could flail at it with at least horseshoe accuracy. Then Stephane brought the soup, immediately moved the fish back beyond my left elbow, and said, "Would you like me to bring you a fork?" Everyone laughed, I did too, but nobody was having much luck deboning their fish from the awkward crossed-over arm position. Here is a rough description of the meal, sorry, no local names, my research was inadequate: Soup with potato, fish, and egg drop, grilled fish, custard with sea food, Red kimchi (rolled cabbage leaves) -this was quite hot, multicolored kimchi, threads - multithreaded, like Windows 2000 Mushrooms, with green beans. purple rice - color maybe from beans? - and green tea. The second day was western, kinda. You know, when you decide to be "eclectic" or improvise in a foreign genre, you better be careful. There were only two very strange things here: the carrots glazed with ketchup and the fresh fruit dessert garnished with parsley - some of the guys got mint, but Stephane probably ran out and decided to use parsley for the bad chopstick people. The main course was a hamburger steak and with the US theme somebody, probably Stephane, decided that ketchup was apropos. Good thought, maybe on the side, with the bottles of Wishbone salad dressing and off-brand Louisiana hot sauce that didn't seem to go with anything, but did remind us of a diner. But the Ketchup on the carrots, glazed on, that was beyond hideous - haw!, round eye want ketchup?, we'll give the devil his ketchup okay, on carrots! No, I don't think it was intended to be as bad as it turned out. It was a logical choice of ingredients put together in a very stupid way. It reminded me to be exceptionally careful when I use hoisan or 5-spice. Use it correctly or not at all. You'd think Stephane would know that already. One more Stephane story. I went outside on the roof to take pictures of the plant at Osan and Stephane called me back. "Smoking is allowed inside," he warned me, "but not outside." I assured him I was only out there to get some pictures, but he followed a safe distance behind to make certain I didn't light up. I wondered to myself, if I gave him the finger, would he understand that? 7:56:47 PM    comment []

Bush: 'Sick and tired' of Iraqi deception From over 10,000 miles away, this makes even less sense than in the US. If he would say we're going to attack even if Saddam personally hands over the Iraqi car keys and title to Dick Cheney, I would at least respect Bush's integrity. The inspectors find no weapons, then GWB says Saddam must disarm. How do you eliminate something you don't have? He says we know he has weapons, but he won't tell the inspectors where. This is not foreign policy, it's a Hell's Angels shakedown: Give me a cigarette. Give me another cigarette. Give me the whole pack. Now give me your shirt. Now your pants. Then he beats you up anyway. From over 10,000 miles away, it's hard to see how this betters US interests in the region. 7:17:37 PM    comment []

You know him. He's the maitre d'! He's Suitably Surly Stephane, such a quick dry wit! With his crispy pressed suit and slightly cocked red bow tie. His hair way too black, he's slender as a ballerina - but hidden somewhere in his sunken chest is a sarcastic subwoofer carved out by too many packs of Parliament Lights. He's Suitably Surly and his name is Stephane. Did you look at the wine list and order the first cabernet? He's oh so quick to say, "A wine from the dewy eastern slopes for an Alsatian entree, are you sure, sir?" He's quick on his feet, don't get in the way, serve on the right, clear on the left, spit-polished shoes, expressively short, "Would Madame like another dinner fork?" as the salad goes away. You've met him, you know him well, he's Suitably Surly, they call him Stephane. At night, he's polished and put away. First the wine glasses. oh please not a streak, the silver, none missing, the starched napkins, folded with a crease. A breath of vermouth, no more, in the gin, all's well, open the closet and he goes in. Up in the morning with the Vivaldi CD, he sniffs in the kitchen and the ladies' potty, refreshes his attitude, properly snotty. Inspects the tables and unlocks the main door, no stains in the commode or spots on the floor. He especially worries about dirt in the can. You know him, you've met him, he's always Stephane. 7:02:46 AM    comment []

A couple of frustrating things here at the Marriott. Internet access costs 400 won a minute to a max of 25,000 a day, which with the omnipresent VAT tax costs about $30. I can't use my work email because it's a tunneled VPN and the software (our network dude says the problem is a "cheap-assed router")will only let one person in the whole derned hotel out at a time. I can receive email on my personal account at nc.rr.com, but can't send except to nc.rr.com, which is how I'm posting. It never occurred to me that I might need a modem when Korea has the highest broadband usage per capita in the world (according to a BBC interview with Bill Gates that I saw in Tokyo - Damn!, I shoulda remembered this is the same guy who said 640K ought to be enough for anyone."). All classes are finished as of today. What a relief. This is the first relaxing evening of the trip. That makes it likely I'll be posting more tonight and tomorrow, before heading home Thursday. It is an hour and a half limousine ride to the manufacturing/development plant in Osan, which takes a giant chunk out of the day. Someday, there will be an accident in Seoul. When the lanes compress for a toll station, all the drivers just pull into the lane they want. If someone pulls ahead of you, you try to block them until that is no longer possible. Same with left turns. You try to block the oncoming traffic or you'll never get it done. No one honks, I think it is considered a loss of face on the part of the honker. When the accident occurs in Seoul, it will involve every car on the road at that time, a mega-accident like the ones that occur during fog on US interstates. Someone will get blocked out and pull in anyway, setting off a chain reaction that will involve everyone driving because the highways are always right at critical mass. 4:27:56 AM    comment []