Lasers and Teddy Bears

On a cold Friday afternoon I found myself in the waiting room of a LASIK center with several other individuals sitting in our chairs, sharing the 1000-yard stare and waiting for our name to be called. For the 34th time in a row, the office’s promotional video looped back to the beginning and began playing all over again on the sole television around us. The customer testimonials raved about the center’s eye surgeon. First up was a typically attractive brunette, followed by a hispanic woman. Rounding out the rainbow of testimonials were an overly tan Caucasian man, an Asian girl, and a black guy who looked a tad cross-eyed (a bit concerning). All of them were praising the surgeon and how great the staff was and how amazing their post-op results were. The video’s intended effect to allay any fears about the procedure was beginning to reverse its effects. I began to imagine that we had already begun the LASIK procedure, the untold secret 1st stage of the operation: the brainwash effect.

I got up from my chair and walked over to the window overlooking down to the streets several levels below. Leaning against the glass, I combed the darkening night for anything of interest. That’s when I heard a chuckle behind me and could overhear someone telling the receptionist, “They must be going crazy, with that video on an infinite loop all day.”

“Want to watch some TV?”

The last remark sounded like it was directed to me. I looked behind me to see the man in charge of the LASIK office’s finances giving me a smirk. I gave a nod and replied, “Sure.”

I was led into the second waiting room towards the mid-section of the LASIK office, invisibly slapping myself and wondered why I hadn’t thought of this sooner. Well, in all fairness, I thought, I had no clue my wait time would amount to nearly three hours. Subjecting patients to this waiting game can’t be too good for their nerves.

Seconds later, with the remote control to the television in my hand, I was surfing through the channels, ecstatic I had been freed from the shackles of brainwashing. A couple of the other patients who had also been waiting settled into various seats in the second room around me. As the unofficially designated TV channel-setter, I decided SportsCenter may not have been of much interest to all our gathered viewers (there were 5 of us including myself) and so I settled on There’s Something About Mary. ‘Lo and behold, I had just flipped to the channel when the funniest scene of the movie flashed on the telly and Ben Stiller’s character was frantically searching the bathroom just after he had “cleaned the pipes” /  “choked the chicken” / “spanked the monkey” before the big date. The guy sitting to my left and I unsuccessfully stifled our laughs as Mary reached for the “hair gel” dangling off his earlobe. In retrospect, I’ve concluded that watching this particular movie scene has to be one of the most effective ways to break any level of tension amongst a group.

Before I knew it, my name was being called and my turn was up. I left the remote control in plain view in the middle of my seat, telepathically sending everyone in the room behind me a message: “First one to grab it gets to change the channel!!”

You Were The Chosen One

Obi Wan Kenobi put it best. Screaming at Anakin Skywalker, “You were the Chosen One! It was said that you would destroy the Sith, not join them!!!”

Lebron James had the potential to be one of the all-time greats. Magic. Russell. Bird. Kobe. Jordan. It was conceivable that one day, after Lebron had hung his jersey up once and for all, that the world wouldn’t hesitate to include him amongst these few, these basketball elite. After all, Jordan hadn’t won a single championship at age 25, the same age Lebron decided to commit the worst publicity stunt in the history of sports. There was still a very real chance that once the Cavaliers plugged in a few missing pieces, this team could come off two consecutive seasons of posting the NBA’s best record and have gone off for serious title runs. But the chances of this happening for Cleveland anytime soon is no greater than the probability that Lebron isn’t booed in the Quickens Arena later this year.

It was estimated that 10 million viewers would tune in to The Decision on ESPN. I wouldn’t be surprised if the effects of this disaster reached the ears and eyes of over triple that amount, with the Twitter and Facebook world immediately regurgitating from the shock, and the blogging and media world reverberating from the news. In one fell swoop, Lebron transformed into the most hated figure in the NBA, and no longer was deemed categorized under the most revered, ultimate basketball player in the league today.

We all knew that Lebron was setting himself up for a lose-lose situation. To have the nerve to announce his decision would be televised in a one-hour promotional event pretty much concludes the 25-year-old man-or-kid theory. Only a kid with a ragtag entourage of childhood buddies and ill-advised members would think that they could twist this first-of-its-kind sports television moment into a charity case and everyone would nod their heads in understanding. In announcing his decision, Lebron would be instantly alienating four major cities of the market for raising their hopes and keeping entire management teams completely in the dark. He altered the free-agent summer market of 2010 in no way any other star could, and only a handful of people in the world could be happy about that (Joe Johnson and Rudy Gay, to name a few).

You see, we all knew that this wasn’t going to be pretty. For many of us though, we weren’t picturing the aftermath. Personally, I was envisioning the sheer joy and excitement at the possibility that he was going to say, “This fall, I’ll be bringing my talents to the mecca of basketball… and play for the New York Knicks.” And watching the limited crowd in that Boys & Girls club erupt with passion and applause. It made sense… that’s how it was going to happen… in my eyes. Despite all of the leaked news from sources unnamed, with the words Miami being thrown out all day and through the mouths of the ESPN analysts just prior to the show, I just couldn’t bring myself to believe that he would pull such a cop-out move. I really thought he was going to say Cleveland, Chicago, or New York. I really did.

So why all the backlash? The burning of the jersey? The Letter from Dan Gilbert? The sheer rage being expressed by fans of the league all over the world as evident in Simmon’s latest column? Are we overreacting?

No. It was the culmination of it all. Let’s look at the facts:

Wednesdays

I’ve consistently found Mondays to offer more than say, a Tuesday or a Wednesday. On Mondays I am well-rested, bright and chirpy well into the workday, planning my tasks for the week and catching up on the weekend e-mails. It provides a nice, productive contrast to the lazy Sunday of the day before.

By Wednesday though, I’m fatigued, less motivated, and completely aware that a long and unwelcome Thursday stands between me and the breath of freedom/Friday evening. Yes, I’ll have to settle on Wednesdays being my least favorite day of the week.

Related Article

On the subject of self-delusions, I came across the following article in the New York Times today, entitled “When All You Have Left Is Your Pride”. To no surprise, I was inclined to filter the headlines and arrive at a page that gave self-reinforcing confirmations on a matter I had recently given thought to.

Hollywood Remakes

I’ve been informed that a remake of Oldboy (a Chanwook Park directed Korean film released in 2003) is in the works. The plan is to have Steven Spielberg direct and to have Will Smith play the role of Daesu Oh, the protagonist who is imprisoned for fifteen years without knowing why. I’m a fan of both Spielberg and Will Smith alike, but this casting decision is a mistake.

A.I., Saving Private Ryan, and Schindler’s List serve as an impressive line of work for Spielberg, leaving me little doubt that he will deliver a strong adaptation of the Korean classic which brings with it an atypically darker tone and potentially disturbing material for some. But I’ve settled on the fact that Will Smith carries a relentless aura of a charmer, a good-hearted guy who likes to have fun, a sharp guy who delivers quips that leaves his audience snickering or outright laughing. From his “allergic to bullshit” liner in I, Robot to his jabbering with Martin Lawrence in the Bad Boys franchise to his ability to humorously play off of Agent K’s stoic demeanor in Men In Black, Will can’t seem to fully bury his comedic talents.

Yet I found nothing funny about the scenes in Oldboy, which dabbles in cold-hearted revenge, torture, lust, to name a few themes without giving away any spoilers. Even had animal rights activists in a hissy fit with its incredibly eerie scene with a live octopus. The movie is amazing but I am disappointed to hear that the filmmakers and studio executives behind the casting decisions feel that they need to throw in a Hollywood A-list actor like Will Smith to top this movie off. If they genuinely believe Will is the best fit for this role and his penchant for drawing in megahit box-office numbers was a non-factor, then I think they aren’t seriously considering some of the lesser known names out there in the acting pool. I would be pleasantly surprised if Will can stretch his acting chops beyond his comfort zone and pull off this very dark role. I still feel he is at his best playing the love doctor or the action star in a Jerry Bruckheimer film.

Generally speaking however, I’m just plain sick of Hollywood remakes of successful Asian films and franchises. My Sassy Girl starring Elisha Cuthberg was atrocious. I’m guessing the same was for The Lake House. The seemingly infinite line of bad Japanese horror film adaptations appears to have finally been depleted. The Departed, perhaps one of the better and obviously more successful adapations, won a Best Picture Oscar but there was nary a mention of the Infernal Affairs film. To think the Scorsese film would have never come to fruition without the Hong Kong original, I was pretty pissed to hear words like “chinks”, “Bruce Lee and the Karate Kids”, and a reference to dick sizes coming out of Nicholson’s mouth, no matter how sleazy the character was.

And one of my beloved franchises, Dragonball, is slated to be released next year as a Hollywood film starring a Mr. Justin Chatwin as Goku. That series has such deep roots and a huge fanbase, it would have been such a positive step forward for the Asian-American community to have casted an Asian male lead for that film. Wishful thinking, I guess. No one should give a rat’s ass whether the supporting characters or the female characters were faithfully represented by an Asian counterpart (e.g. Yamucha, Chi-Chi). Goku is Goku, the face of the franchise, and it went to this guy.

It was awesome to see the nation take its first strides towards a new chapter with the first African-American elected to the presidency. Yet, if Asian-Americans can’t take the forefront of movies, let alone movies based off of material sourced from Asia, will we ever see the day when America is united under an Asian-American president?

Into the Fire

The Knicks held their first pre-season game today, and I was able to catch only ten minutes of the game in the first half. They looked surprisingly comfortable in D’Antoni’s new fast-paced system, a black-and-white contrast to the slow and methodical style that coaches have hammered into the franchise in years past. Every year I get very excited and hopeful for the Knicks chances in the season and making the playoffs. Who knew Marbury wouldn’t deliver? How could anyone have predicted Larry Brown’s torrid performance? Let’s not forget Isaiah Thomas’ ineffectiveness, even after taking the full-time coaching reigns from a position of presidency. It’s absolutely nuts how badly the Knicks perform every year given the level of talent, expectations, and salary numbers that are poured into the organization.

This year, I remain a loyal fan (and a very happy one, having moved closer to Madison Square Garden and into local MSG Network television coverage), but my expectations are not about to be popped again this year. I don’t see them making the playoffs, and unfortunately for D’Antoni and his strong and positive reputation, it just can’t be done with the tools on this team. Secretly however, I harbor the idea that God has a sense of humor and will use this opportunity to prove my expectations wrong again, perhaps vaulting the team into the 40, 45+ win total category. Miracles aside, I see the organization winning 36 games. That’s 36-46, good enough to just barely miss the post-season. And yet in my unwavering fanboy eyes, the Knicks still kick ass.

In video-game news, I converted to the realms of the Sony PlayStation. I’ve conducted my fair share of research into determining whether to even keep my Wii (sold it on eBay along with my games) and if I should choose the XBox 360 or the PlayStation 3. Pages and pages could be written on the pros and cons of each system, in addition to why I feel the PS3 is the better choice, so I’ll try to be succinct.

– I purchased the PS3 as part of a limited SKU that was bundled with probable 2008’s Game of the Year, Metal Gear Solid 4, along with a DualShock3 (replacing the then standard controller SixAxis w/out rumble) and a free voucher for a PSN game (which at about $20-40, have smaller scopes than retail games, but are downloaded to the console’s hard drive). This bundle came at a price tag of $499, but with a $100 gift card (which Best Buy price matched from Wal-Mart). That’s $400. Considering the NTSC PS3 originally debuted in 2007 at $600 with 20GB less HD space, a controller with no rumble feature, and no bundled game, this is one extremely good case where it paid off to be a late adopter.

– The XBox 360 has roughly a 30% defective rate, and frequently encounters a problem known as RROD, or the “Red Ring Of Death”. This manufacturing defect has cost Microsoft over $1 billion to recuperate and it continues to this day to see systems being sent in for replacement. All they could do to temporarily appease its customers worldwide was offer an extended standard warranty to 3 years, while allowing the system’s problems to persist.

– Microsoft charges gamers a $50 annual subscription fee to its online service, though Live is considered a slightly better service than PSN. They also charge $100 for a Wi-fi adapter, $90 for a mere 20GB external HD, the power supply is external, the controller’s use AA batteries, and HDMI is only available on the higher priced Elite model. All PS3 systems include Wi-fi, an internal HD, HDMI, an internal power supply, and all of the controllers have internal rechargeable batteries.

– This PS3 model can play CD’s, DVD’s, BD’s (Blu-ray Discs), PS2 games, PS3 games, and can accept media cards in SD, CF, Microdrive formats, and has 4 USB ports. It comes loaded with a built-in web browser (which is a bit slow but is free), whereas the 360 does not. The Live service offered on the 360 is also loaded with advertisements, whereas the PSN Store is not. The 360 cannot play Blu-ray discs, has limited backwards compatibility, and no media card support.

– Games. Again, this is too deep to get into. I’ll just say this: Microsoft has marketed the XBox more successfully than Sony has with the PS3, and their game line-up also reflects more of the mainstream crowd. More casuals will pick up games like Halo, Gears of War, Madden, etc. and be fully satisfied with their experience. But the PS3 houses titles that haven’t been exposed properly to non-hardcore gamers, but nevertheless often feature far more richer and better gameplay, cinematics, graphics, or presentation. The XBox has more games (people often forget it was released a full year earlier) but the PS3 has tilted its advantage towards having more exclusives. It’s quality over quantity, that’s basic logic.

– They’re both good systems… but the PS3 is just better in terms of value, as a media center/player, and it is more future-proof.

– Halo 3 is overrated.

In personal news, I’ve moved on to another assignment yet again, this time in familiar (yet unfamiliar) territory. Whereas I’m now back in the region of the country I’ve grew up in and out of the Northeast, I’ve still never lived or worked in a true city before on a day-to-day basis. That’s changed now, and in a tumultous time when the country is fighting an economic crisis and jobs are shaky, I’m leaping straight into the fire of Wall St. (well, one street off of) and can confidently declare I don’t know where I’m headed for the future. Seven months ago was a whole ‘nother ballpark, but apparently God likes to play with my future a lot, changing his plans for me unexpectedly as if he can’t make up his mind (or laughing as I’m forced to build character). I’m stressin’ like mad and busy as heck, but hoping things will settle soon.