...Songs With the Word "Rain" in the Title
1. November Rain - Guns n' Roses
2. Purple Rain - Prince
3. The Rain Song - Led Zeppelin
4. No Rain - Blind Melon
5. South Central Rain - REM
I never wanted to be your weekend lover, Korea. I only wanted to be some kind of friend.
If you live in Korea and this is the first you’ve heard of Nancy Lang, it definitely won’t be the last.
Trust me.
She is fast on her way to becoming one of Korea’s biggest celebrities. But that’s not her ultimate goal. Instead she wants to become world famous, and though a lofty ambition to be sure, one day she may very well be able to make that claim.
Longtime readers of this blog may be familiar with the way in which I came to know of Ms. Lang. The story goes thusly: I was at home one weekend in early April, taking care of the little girl, when I caught Nancy Lang on TV, in an interview recorded for Ch. Art (에술 TV). I was instantly captivated, and that day composed this Psychedelic Kimochi entry, the final paragraph of which reads: “I'm hoping to in the future get an interview with her; here is a woman Psychedelic Kimchi readers want to know more about. I know I do.” And I meant it. A few days later I sent her an email, requesting an interview.
I certainly didn't imagine she'd respond, though.
Much to my surprise, she did, accepting my invitation. Initially the interview was going to be over the phone, but we could never schedule something solid (she's got one hectic schedule, as you'll soon discover). Nevertheless, she kept telling me that she wanted to do the interview, and she sounded completely genuine.
Finally, this past Tuesday she said she was available on Sunday, and instead of the telephone interview I had imagined, she suggested we meet in Apkujeong.
Fast forward to Sunday. While on my way to Apkujeong, she called me to re-confirm our meeting place, the Hyundai department store. I arrived early for our five o' clock meeting, so I decided to check whether the CD store where I sometimes used to shop was still in business. It wasn't. At a quarter to five I made my way back towards the department store, but while walking in the underground subway passage, I ran into her.
And let me say this: as comely as she appears on television and in photos, she is remarkably more stunning in person. I say that without a hint of pretense. She is absolutely drop-dead gorgeous.
“Nancy,” I said.
She looked up, a little surprised. Then she told me she thought I was going to be much older. Ajeossi was the word she used. I asked her if she was disappointed. Not at all, she said.
The feeling was more than mutual.
We made our way above ground and headed towards Starbucks. Upon entering, however, we both realized how crowded and noisy it was, and Nancy led the way straight out the back door.
We ended up in a basement-level beer hall close by; and it was an infinitely better environment in which to conduct the interview. In fact, for the majority of our conversation we were the only patrons in the place.
After settling down and ordering two beers and a fruit platter (which, lamentably, was left untouched), we each took some photos and then began the interview. I actually had a notebook containing questions which I had prepared prior, but Nancy Lang is such an engaging, easy-to-talk-to person that I ditched them in favor of whatever came up during our conversation.
And what a revealing hour and a half I spent with her. Trust me, she's got a fascinating story. My only regret is that we couldn’t speak longer.
*****
Let me reiterate: if you haven't heard of Nancy Lang until now, chances are you will again soon. She's everywhere these days: in the business world, in advertising, fashion, modeling, art, television and publishing. If Howard Stern can profess himself to be King of All Media, then this writer is dubbing Ms. Lang the Queen of All Media.
Yes, Nancy Lang is her real name. Born Park Hye-Ryeong (박혜령), she legally changed her name to Nancy Gloria Lang to better reflect her art and help in her international aspirations. She was born in New York City (and, thusly, possesses dual citizenship), where her mother lived for 20 years, running a very profitable promotions business which used to schedule such legendary performers as Frank Sinatra and Anne Murray to perform on Korean variety shows. However, not long after Nancy's birth, her mother decided to return to Korea and start a new business, importing and exporting luxury furniture and designer clothes.
An only child, during elementary school Nancy studied piano, figure skating, tennis and tae kwon do. She realized early on that she had a penchant for art, and focused on her talent during her formative years. Later, shortly before Nancy was to begin middle school, her mother contracted cancer -- a fact she withheld from her daughter -- and Nancy was sent to live with her two uncles in the Philippines. There she attended the Brent International School in Manila, where she learned to speak fluent English -- though she fears her fluency has since declined -- and found she was able to better express her creativity than had she remained in Korea. Like many, Nancy feels creativity in the Korean education system is stifled.
“In high school, they have art and music and athletic programs, but they don't do it...the students study other subjects with other teachers.”
Her family's considerable wealth enabled Nancy to spend summers vacationing in Korea (as well as in the U.S. and Japan), but she returned to Korea for good 3 years later, and, studying under the International Baccalaureate program and receiving her IB diploma, during high school was fortunate to further pursue her dream of becoming a famous artist. After graduation she planned to attend Yale, but her mother worried because she had no relatives in the States, and instead wished for her to major in English at Ewha Woman’s University. Nancy adamantly opposed the idea.
“I didn't want to study with women!” she says with a laugh.
She eventually enrolled at Hongik University, where she would receive her bachelor's and master's degrees in Fine Arts. Many of those years in university were very tough for her, however.
While Nancy was a university senior, her mother was again diagnosed with cancer and had to spend a year in the hospital. Consequently, and combined with some other factors, her business collapsed, and Nancy's family's once-substantial fortune all but disappeared.
She admits that the 3 or 4 years during her senior year and into graduate school were very difficult. She began drinking and partying a lot, and at one point even contemplated suicide. Tragically, she also lost her father in an automobile accident not long after finishing her graduate studies.
These combined hardships were very sobering for her. Pursuing art was difficult with limited financial resources, and she was faced with the very possible reality of having to forsake her art and take a nine-to-five office job -- a prospect which frightened her because, as she says, art was all she really knew.
So she continued to work on her art. Fortuitously, in 2003, through a mutual acquaintance she was contacted by the head of Warner Music Korea and invited to produce artwork for Linkin Park in conjunction with the Korean release of their sophomore album, Meteora; though at the time she admits she had never heard of the band, whose debut is certified Diamond (10 times platinum).
“I don't watch TV that much,” she says innocently.
Although she was unaware of the group at the time, she was more than eager to sign on for the project, her primary motive being -- due to the financial problems which she was facing -- monetary gain.
“I love dollars,” she states honestly, with the tone of a struggling artist who knows how it is to be without them.
Her career picked up somewhat, and she had several exhibitions in Seoul, but she longed to reach a broader audience. She would get her wish when, later that year, she showed up unannounced at the Venice Biennale, showcasing her Uninvited Dreams and Conflicts; Taboo Yogini Series project. She would repeat this form of guerrilla art exhibition in various locations in Manhattan, as well.
It was at this point that her career really began to take off. She was quickly becoming not only a well-known figure in the Korean art scene, but also in the media. A self-admitted lover of designer fashion, she says that she always made sure during a photo opportunity to show off her favorite Louis Vuitton handbag, an idea which, as fate would have it, would lead to a future collaboration between her and the couture brand.
As the story goes, during an airplane flight Louis Vuitton's Asia Pacific President, Francois Delage, saw, in a copy of the Korean magazine WHO, a photo of Nancy posing with her LV handbag. He tore the picture out and later showed it to Louis Vuitton Korea president Cho Hyun-Wook. Cho contacted Nancy, who was eventually commissioned to produce visual art for the opening of a Louis Vuitton store in Myeong-dong, Seoul.
“I'm very thankful to him,” Lang says of Cho.
*****
It’s fairly safe to say that, these days, Nancy doesn’t have any problems finding projects to keep her busy. When I ask whether she has considered acting -- which besides music appears to be the only media outlet she has yet to conquer -- she tells me that a few famous directors have contacted her, but so far she has refused because the roles offered haven’t meshed with her art concept.
Amazingly, she doesn’t have a manager.
“I’m a one-man army,” she says proudly.
It’s clear that she relishes the recent comfort of being able to pick and choose her creative endeavors.
Here’s an exhaustive list of her current projects, as well as a few recently completed: she hosts the show Trend Report Pill (트렌드리포트必), which airs Monday to Friday on music station Mnet; she writes a weekly fashion column for the Ilgan Sports tabloid; Korea Telecom’s Megapass brand based an entire ad campaign around her; she has her own eponymous clothing line, designed by herself and an assistant; she recently published her first book, Bikinis In Modern Art (비키니입은현대미술); she runs her own website, http://nancylang.com; she makes frequent TV appearances and does modeling work; and for the past year she’s worked as an art director for Ssamzie Sport, a domestic fashion label -- although she says she won't renew her contract once it's completed later this month. Once a notorious sleeper (“I used to sleep between 12 and 15 hours a day when I was young”), she deserves to take a rest. These days she says she only sleeps around 5 hours a day. A salaryman might be able to handle that kind of schedule, but it's tough on her, she says.
But if, as she insists, she is exhausted, it certainly doesn’t show in her outward appearance and manner. She wears an expression that exudes energy, enthusiasm, and friendliness, and when she speaks she uses a lot of body language to accentuate her points. One gets the impression that she is an eternal optimist; surprising given the hardships she's had to face, but also admirable and endearing.
When I ask about the major influences on her art, she lists Picasso, Dali, and Warhol as inspiration, not only for their art, but for their eccentric and gregarious lifestyles. Conversely, she claims she's not a big fan of Van Gogh -- not because of his works, which she likes, but rather because of those who find his difficult life and poor mental health a source of twisted, vicarious pleasure.
“People are cruel,” she says, giving the impression that, in art and life, she prefers lighter, happier fare.
Any other major influences?
“Jesus,” she says without hesitation.
Listening to Nancy talk about her faith and belief in god is delightful. Although she says she doesn’t consider herself particularly religious, she attends church (“I cannot go every Sunday, but I'm trying to”) and says that, in the afterlife, she believes god will be proud of her, then mimes a beneficent god patting her on the head like a child who has done a good job.
She's not entirely an angel of mercy, though. There’s a slightly sinister part of her that has revenge planned for her two uncles, who cheated her family out of money when times were hard. Her first act of revenge -- which it appears she has fulfilled -- is to become a better and more successful young woman than her cousins, who are approximately the same age as her. The second act of vengeance, which she plans to enact when she is “rich and powerful enough,” she will not reveal to me.
“You'll know what it is when I do it,” she assures me.
Yet another future project to look forward to from the alluring, multi-talented Nancy Lang.
It's not widely known, but I am the merely the second most prolific head in my familial unit. Truth told, I'm more Bragg than Brand Nu.
My older brother, the infamous DJ Sean B, is the professional 4-elementalist in the family. And I mean that literally – he does it for a living. Having a few years on me, the guy is single-handedly responsible for superimposing hiphop over my childhood. Other kids had footballs, I was 9 and I had a roll of linoleum.
Bastard.
With that as an introduction, I present a baker's dozen defining moments in the denz hip hop evolution.
13. Mullet (Spoken Word) – Sage Francis
Sage’s history 101 holds up a mirror to the whiteboy evolution of and in hip hop. In three and one half minutes. If you haven’t heard this, find it. If you can’t find it, you shouldn’t be on the internet.
Sure, it isn’t a hip hop track. But that’s how I roll in my dozen, baby
12. Connected – Stereo MCs
0 for 2 on pure hip hop. In 2001, just prior to my second sojourn to Korea, I saw the Stereo MCs at the Livid music festival. Myself well lit. One of the finest live music moments I have been a part of. And in the middle of it was Rob B, pumping away like the poster child for taxidermy.
11. So Whatcha Want - Beastie Boys
Mike D is to skinny white kids, as Mike J is to skinny black kids.
10. Yes You May (Remix) – Lord Finesse (Feat. Big L)
Finesse is unheralded. For sheer battle like rhymes, he was a pioneer. Then again, he was once more topped by Big L. That's life.
No pun intended.
9. Time's Up – OC
I think it was Bobbito that said that every head remembers first hearing 'time's up'. Bottomline, if it isn't true, why spit it? It's just too bad that OC's line 'I'd rather be broke and have a whole lot of respect' ended up being prophecy.
8. Respiration – Blackstar & Common
The perfect subway track. Well, this and 'Code of the Streets'.
7. The Choice is Yours – Black Sheep
My latter day pet peeve? The fact that hiphop never gets a classic hit/golden oldies stations. That said, a few months ago I was driving down the M1 with the lass when this track came on one of the community radio stations. I nearly slammed my car into an overpass in glee.
6. No Regrets - Aesop Rock
Beautiful storytelling. Nowadays, I find it hard to seriously get into the whole Game, Kanye, etc experience. Give me Aesop, El-P, Cage and Slug for some post backpacker rhymes. As Sluggo says 'I must be getting old cause the bass sounds ridiculous'.
5. Wrong Side of the Tracks – Artifacts
An ode the the elements. I think it was an Aussie kid that said it best - Out in suburbia, I prefer my walls bombed up like Serbia. Or something.
4. 93 Til Infinity – Souls of Mischief
If there is a warmer, more goose bump inspiring sample than that of 93 I haven't heard it. Oh, you crazy hiero cats.
3. Industrial Revolution – Immortal Technique
The politics can be a little undergraduate at times, but that's better than the preschool politics of a lot of other rappers. Industrial Revolution is like 'time's up' on some bad meth. I mean, come on:
And if your message ain't shit, fuck the records you sold
Cause if you go platinum, it's got nothing to do with luck
It just means that a million people are stupid as fuck.
2. Ego Trippin – Ultramagnetic MCs
With this pick, I restore equilibrium to the universe. That being the cosmic tilt that occurred when Sparkles included the De La version over the MCs Ultra – magnetic, magnetic – version, way back when.
To wit: you can’t fuck with Ultra, stupid motherfucker.
1. New York State of Mind - Nas
Perfection.
I've got a huge Psychedelic Kimchi post coming in the next few days. Remember the hints I've periodically dropped since April? Well, this afternoon the big thing became a reality, and you'll soon have the pleasure of reading about it yourself. Trust me, it's really, really cool.
In the meantime, take a seat, kick up your feet, and enjoy these snapshots of the 18th Letter:
Life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once in awhile, you could miss it.
Something tells me those kooky ad execs at Sony were wearing Bad Idea Jeans (and possibly white hoods) when they came up with this billboard for their new PSP White:
One thing about playing basketball (wait, where are you going?) as exercise: it's so fun for me that I have a hard time knowing when it's time to quit, to walk away and give my body a rest.
Today I was lucky enough to finish work early, and, knowing so ahead of time, took my backpack -- containing a change of clothes, my sneakers and my ball -- with me to work. Jesus, with my Adam Morrisonesque mop, whispy facial hair, and the fact that I was walking around with a backpack all day, I sorta felt like those shifty-looking waygooks I see all the time.
Wack like me.
Anyway, after arriving in Bundang I got off the bus at Seohyeon and dashed into a phone booth/officetel bathroom to change. What's up with all the nicest bathrooms in Bundang being in Seohyeon? They're always empty. Couldn't they spread 'em out a little?
Whatever. I got changed, headed down to the court, and arrived at 3:30. Typically, no one was there, so I shot around, practiced free throws, layups, circus shots, you name it. It was a bit cooler today than it has been these past few weeks, and cloudy, so the heat didn't zap me of my energy too quickly. In fact, I shot around non-stop for two and a half hours.
Now, you may be thinking, so what? But let me tell you, when you're the only guy shooting and have to collect your own rebounds, you can get worn down pretty fast -- a lot faster than if, say, you have a buddy or two with whom to shoot. So I was kind of tired by the time 6 rolled around.
I was about to call it quits and head for home, but just then a stocky-looking guy, who looked about 25 or so, walked onto the court.
I had a feeling he was going to suggest some one-on-one (get your mind outta the 5th grade), and though I contemplated saying no on the grounds that I was too exhausted, I figured I'd continue shooting for a little while longer and see.
But the dude just stood there, not 3 meters from where I was practicing. At first I figured he was waiting for a friend or something, but as the minutes passed, I guessed that that probably wasn't the case.
Now, I gave the guy every opportunity to ask me to play, taking small breaks between shots and looking him in the eye; but he just stood there stoically.
He was the first weird-acting Korean male I've encountered in nearly 6 years here.
But seriously, I began to get the idea that he had every intent of requesting a match, but was purposefully waiting for me to wear down further before doing so. Paranoid? Maybe. But I still believe that was his plan.
Finally, he asked "you wanna play?"
"Ahhhhhh," I let out a sigh of apprehension. Let me reiterate, I was really fucking beat. "To what?"
"Five-five," he said.
And here's what I don't get: in such games, you play to five, then take a short break (or not, as is often the case), and play to ten. Why not just play to ten (or eleven, which is what I'm used to)? I think the point is that, because it's winner's out, the player trailing is given possession; but more often than not it doesn't work that way, and today was one such example.
(But I tend to clear the ball at the 3-point line, so what the hell do I know?)
Back to the story. I accepted, believing I could take the guy, even though I was worn out (have I mentioned yet that I was worn out?).
We shot free throws for possession. He airballed his first attempt (Nelson Muntz: Ha, ha!), I nailed mine. On the first play I drove right (note to anyone who plays me: I always drive right) and from 7 or 8 feet kissed the ball off glass.
But Stubby (which is what we'll call him from here on) tightened up on D, getting his arms in my face everytime I tried to replicate the move or post up, and my shots were way off.
At "halftime" he was up 5-3.
I can't lose this game, I can't. I won't be able to live with myself.
This is what was running through my mind at the time. But what could I do? I was beat like Neal Cassady. Not even my reliable jumper was falling, and Stubby was giving me more than ample room with which to heave.
Put your goddam legs into it! some part of my conscience (the part that sounds like Pat Riley) shouted.
I did.
Sometimes, it's such a small thing that can throw a player off his game. For me, my shot wasn't dropping because I was tired and not putting my legs into it. After I did, presto Change-O.
The score was 8-5 in favor of Stubb Rock when I rebounded, cleared the ball at the perimeter, and let fly with perfect form.
Swish.
And again. And again.
Score tied, this dude still wasn't coming to pressure my shot. So I kept shooting.
(And, as a brief aside, it's always amusing when the guy you're playing can't stop reminding you the score when he's winning, but clams up as soon as you're ahead. Good times.)
Final score: Sparky 10, Stubby 8.
And the only reason I mention this, apart from being a self-centered braggart, is that, whenever I'm asked by Koreans to play one-on-one, I don't think their primary reason is for genuine, sportsmanly competition, but rather because young Korean males see it as a huge ego boost to beat a foreigner. To wit: when I lose, my opponents tend to stick around and make small talk; when I win, they hightail it faster than Daniel Day-Lewis in The Last of the Mohicans .
Again, paranoid? Maybe, but I doubt it.
Anyway, after my lights-out J clinic I walked home. No mean feat, because I live a 50-minute walk from the court. But I hate getting on the bus all sweaty.
I'm considerate like that.
I am determined in my resolve, my will as iron as the exoskeleton which sheaths Tony Stark.
After many false starts and stops over the years, I am now 100% resolute in my plan to see whether or not I can achieve a decent facial growth.
I presently look like a Latino adolescent, and my upper lip is as bristly as a brush made by Fuller, but I will not be deterred.
I will endure.
I will embrace.
I will be.
Before we get started, let me first make a quick movie recommendation. If you haven't seen Craig Brewer's awesome film, Hustle & Flow, do so as soon as you can. Yes, it's a hip-hop-themed urban drama, but don't let that deter you. Even if you hate hip-hop (which ironically begs the question "why are you reading this post?"), I can almost guarantee you'll dig this flick. It's phenomenal, possibly the best film I've seen this year.
You've probably heard already about Terrence Howard's career-defining performance, but this movie is far from a one-trick pony. The cast, direction, and score are all amazing. I never thought I'd say this, but Anthony Anderson (of TV's Hang Time, and Kangaroo Jack fame) and DJ Qualls are both surprisingly outstanding, and the rest of the actors -- particularly Taryn Manning, Taraji P. Henson and Ludacris -- are pitch-perfect.
I won't talk your ear off any further, save this: Chud.com's Devin Faraci said that if 8 Mile is hip-hop's version of Rocky, Hustle & Flow is its Raging Bull. A very apt analogy, in my opinion.
Trust me, this is a film you need to see. Otherwise, I'm pretty sure you'll contract cancer.
*****
Scenario by A Tribe Called Quest (feat. the Leaders of the New School)
Has the distinction of being possibly the best posse joint AND the best hip-hop video ever created.
Live at the Barbecue by Main Source (feat. Joe Fatal, Akinyele, and Nas)
Ladies and gentlemen, Nasir Jones. He kidnapped the president's wife without a plan. I have a feeling he'll be a star someday.
Back to the Grill Again by MC Serch (feat. Red Hot Lover Tone, Chubb Rock, and Nas)
Ladies and germs, Nasty Nas. He enjoys waving automatic guns at nuns. His stardom doth approach nearer.
Also, that kid Tone is going to produce some tracks for Nas and parlay that into a multi-million dollar entertainment venture. And Puffy will break a champagne bottle over his dome (or was that Poke?).
Represent by Showbiz & AG (feat. D Shawn, Big L, and Lord Finesse)
You know you've got a remarkable young talent on your hands when the kid manages to outshine Lord Finesse on a track. That's Starks dunking on MJ-level shit. R.I.P.
Bring It On by the Geto Boys (feat. a shitload of dudes you've probably never heard of)
Just a superb posse track from the Rap-A-Lot roster, most of which (save for Devin the Dude and, um, that's about it) would never go on to anything bigger and better. But each MC's energy and level of hunger here are undeniable. The best part: it goes on for over 7 minutes. The best posse cut not titled Scenario to end an album.
Buddy (remix) by De La Soul (feat. The Jungle Bros., A Tribe Called Quest, and Monie Love)
I'm not even sure the remix is better than the album version, but I figured I'd throw this up instead, because there's a chance Monie might read it. I figure she needs the love.
The Symphony by Marley Marl (feat. Craig G, Masta Ace, Kool G Rap, and Big Daddy Kane)
THE prototypical posse cut. Also contains the most recognizable piano loop save the one Ced Gee, via God, relayed to Scott La Rock.
Left It To Us by Cage (feat. El-P, Aesop Rock, Tame 1, and Yak Ballz)
Is it too early to proclaim this a classic? Only time -- both the song's running length, which is way too short, and the fact that it was released just last year -- says yes.
But fuck it. It gets the nod regardless. I don't even care that one of the MC's has the unfortunate moniker Yak Ballz.
I Shot Ya (remix) by LL Cool J (feat. Keith Murray, Prodigy, Fat Joe, and Foxxy Brown)
While technically not a posse cut (I'm pretty sure LL recruited the guest-starring talent with greenbacks rather than through friendship), and featuring a slew of artists who suck something terrible these days, at the time it was released the guest stars were all at the top of their game (except Foxxy, because we all know her raps were ghost-written by Jay-Z), and they re-ignited LL's hunger.
By the way, if I had to compare LL to a ball player, he's gotta be Charles Barkley. He had the charisma, the talent -- yet I don't think he ever reached the caliber of a champion. Yes, Radio and Mama Said Knock You Out are classics, but LL always lacked consistency.
Bring The Noise (remix) by Public Enemy (feat. Anthrax)
Before I get any hate mail for this, let me first state that I loathe this song. It's not very good, for one thing; and it can be attributed (along with Faith No More's Epic, which is actually quite good) to jump-starting the rap/rock fusion that was lying dormant since the Beastie Boys and RUN-DMC ceased to be relevant years before. Yes, some bands got it right (I'm looking at you, Rage Against the Machine), but far more got it horribly wrong, and this song is largely to blame. But it deserves its place in music history. In that way, I consider it to music what DW Griffith's Birth of a Nation is to film.
After returning from Pearson airport for the 2nd time in just over 12 hours, the first thing I wanted to do was take a nice, long walk in the forest behind my parents' home. After the marathon of sleep depravation I'd just been through, only making up 5 measly hours the night prior, I had a painfully acute headache; but this nature hike was somehow very important to me. I had to know if my virgin Mary statues filled with heroin remained where I had hidden them years before.
But really, after having spent the past two years cooped up in the concrete confines of Seoul, walking into the shade of the canopy and smelling the grass, trees, flowers, soil and fresh air was like a cup of cool water to a long-parched throat.
We walked for about 10 minutes, until my wife spotted a family of racoons living in a hollow tree. We took them home and ate them. Seriously though, not long after that discovery, we came across a placid-looking mother deer standing directly in our paths. It was as though someone or something was sending me a message: welcome home. Whenever my wife is asked about her first trip to Canada, that's the anecdote she invariably relates. I on the other hand slightly embellish the tale, claiming that it wasn't a female deer but rather a buck, and that, soon after we first espied it, a tiger ran out of the brush, and both creatures stood on their hind legs to embrace in a hug so beautiful it cannot faithfully be depicted in story nor art.
The next order of business was to hop in the car (a 1997 Pontiac Grand Prix, if it matters) and head over to Burger King for a Whopper w/cheese, large fries (yes, they have BK in Korea, but, like human flesh, the fries back home are a billion times tastier; there's really no comparison), a large vanilla milkshake and an angioplasty on the side. As you can tell, this was a very high priority.
Afterwards, we bought tickets to see Star Wars: Attack of the Clones, which had recently opened. I spent half of the movie clutching my throbbing cranium, which hurt worse than I've ever felt it, before or since. Because of the jet lag, not George Lucas's shitty dialogue. Thought I should clear that up.
Then we drove to the mall and I picked up DJ Shadow's sophomore CD.
Then we drove to Rogers Video and I rented Halloween, and was asked to show ID as proof that I was over 18. Again, welcome home.
Then I bought a case of Labbatt's Blue at The Beer Store (oddly, no need to show ID there), ordered Little Caesars pizza, and got drunk with my brother while watching the Lakers/Kings Western Conference semifinals.
And things of a similar nature as those described above went on for another 4 and a half months.
Oh, Canada.
