Prodigal Son

Gather 'round, Constant Retards, for I have some news to share. Sure, it's news that won't affect any of you directly, but if you read Psychedelic Kimbo Slice regularly there's a good chance you find interest, however fleeting, in the minutiae of my (so-called) life. At least I hope so.

I'm going to Canada in May. Now, don't get too excited. Put down the phone and read on. I'm not going home permanently; it's a one-month visit. Nevertheless, except for the whole flying part, I'm very chuffed, as the English say.

I was back home last February, but before that the last time I was in Canada was for seven months in 2002. If you're scoring at home, that's eight months over the past ten years that I've spent in my home and native land. I love living in Korea, the nation that never sleeps, but a trip to the Western Hemisphere now and then proves calming, I've discovered. One month without a Shih Tzu pooping on my bathroom slippers? I'm there.

What am I most excited about? Seeing the 18th Letter, naturally. I promised I'd visit for her seventh birthday this August, but due to scheduling conflicts -- read: I'm looking for a new job and no company worth a damn is going to hire someone who wants a month-long vacation four months after getting hired -- it appears I'll be arriving a few months ahead of time. She's far from disappointed.

What else am I looking forward to? Hopefully attending a Raptors playoff game, for one. I arrive on the third, which means the Rapture, barring a late-season collapse (not impossible), could still be in their first-round series. I've never been to an NBA playoff game. Win or lose, it's something I'd love to experience in person. And if the Raptors play the Magic, I'll have a hell of a good time booing Vince Carter to pluperfect hell.

Also: snacks. Constant Retards probably know that I feel as deeply about snackfoods as some people do about coffee, wine, steak, or bumsex. I am a discerning snackfood consumer, and living in Korea is, for a snackfood junkie, analogous to...um, a pothead living in Korea? An alcoholic living in Oman? Chicken Wire recently discovered that HomePlus in Daejeon sells Combos and real Cheetos, and I myself can hop over to I Love Cookie (Monster) in Jeongja anytime, but I want more. The last time I was home, walking into a convenience store/supermarket/drug store was like Charlie Bucket entering Willy Wonka's chocolate factory, like the characters in Dawn of the Dead basking in the materialistic playground of an empty mall. No word of a lie: I remember the first time I ate Sea Salt & Black Pepper Lays as fondly as I remember the first time I had sex.

Also: funny accents. It's taken ten years, but I can finally tell the difference between a "neutral" Canadian accent and a "neutral" American one. Both are amusing. Both are nuanced in their differences, but the differences are there. Ask Chicken Wire to say the word "dinosaur" or "room." Hilarity will ensue. On my part, the last time I was out and about I was oat and aboat. Old habits die hard; however, I was told the last time I was home that I speak like a news anchor. That's what living in a non-English-speaking country will do to you. I tend to over enunciate. On the other hand, no matter how hard I try I can't pronounce ㅆ. Maybe I should have my tongue surgically shortened. Legs would hate me forever in that case.

Also: reverse-cultural faux pas. Last time home I put my purchases on the counter at a drug store before the woman in front of me was finished paying. She looked at me like I killed her grandchildren. So too did I exit a dessert cafe without leaving a tip. I'm anticipating that, this time, I'll poke a policeman's ass with my fingers and he won't get the joke.

I'll see you in May, Canada.