I have no plans to return to Seoul anytime soon. In fact, the way things are going, I could be in my mid to late 50s before I have anywhere near the funds to do such a thing. And, even if it did happen today — I’ve waited too long.
It just won’t be as much fun.
I’m too old.
And, yet, there is a little part of me that still wants to return to Asia again just to see how my old stomping grounds are doing. I would like to see Nori Bar and Haebangchon and Itaewon again.
But I know that given how fast things move in South Korea that everything would be different in the extreme, to the point that it would all be a lulz and a huge fucking letdown.
The fact that I’m just too old to enjoy any return trek to Asia weighs heavily on my mind. It’s one of those things you just don’t really think about — that there are things you have access to in your 30s that you don’t when you’re in your 50s.
I don’t really believe in New Age bullshit, but sometimes I do find myself having a curious sensation — that someone, somewhere in South Korea (or connected to it) is thinking about me really hard.
Me, (right) in South Korea around 2004.
I know this is fantastical, but in the past, at least, around the time I have such feelings, someone will swoop in and look at this blog. It hasn’t happened — yet — but someone did download “Somehow” my 30,000 word screed about the crazy days and nights I “enjoyed” between 2006 and 2008 in connection to ROKon Magazine, Nori Bar and the late Annie Shapiro.
I dunno. I just don’t know what to tell you, folks. It’s probably nothing. It’s been about 13 years since I was in South Korea and there’s no reason to believe anyone in South Korea — even a Korean — thinks about me at all these days.
But it is all very….spooky. It does, yet again, make me want to return to South Korea (and Asia in general) one last time to see what’s up. I know South Korea well enough to know that there’s a 50 / 50 chance that if I went back to Seoul anytime soon I’d find myself with a job at Samsung training an AI.
ROKon Magazine started in late summer 2006 when I met the now-late Annie Shapiro. The whole saga / drama lasted until about 2008, if I recall correctly. If you want to read the whole messy booze-fueled drama from my POV, here it is:
The story is pretty damn interesting, if I do say so myself. But it was all a long, long time ago — nearly 20 years now, and there’s really no reason for anyone, even me, to be interested in it anymore.
I mean, I daydream about someone like Phoebe Waller-Bridge wanting to write a screenplay based on the story, but, lulz, that’s just a daydream. And I do draw upon what happened back then a GREAT DEAL for the novel I’m writing. But I just find it very curious that anyone — ANYONE — would be interested in ROKon Magazine.
And now that I’m on the cusp of querying, I wonder if white liberal women literary agents doing due diligence on me are going to be really into all my bad behavior back then. All I can say is — I’m sorry. It was a long time ago and I’ve grown so much as person relative to what happened back then that it’s like I’ve had a brain transplant.
Otherwise, you’ll just have to accept me for who I am.
What happened with ROKon Magazine was so long ago that not even I, the keeper of its memory, care anymore other than drawing upon its legacy to write a novel. I know how great a story it is and what could be done with it under the right conditions, but, lulz, absolutely no one else will care or listen to me.
The late Annie Shapiro and me back in our ROKon Magazine days when I was still cute.
But today, out of the blue, someone came to this site through Instagram and made a beeline to what they could find about ROKon Magazine. I am WELL AWARE of how one could perceive my obsession with my Webstats as…creepy…but…lulz, my life is so devoid of anything interesting these days, please give me this one thing.
Here’s what I think happened — someone got wind of me and ROKon Magazine and did a search for me. My Instagram account was the first link they found, then they went from there to this site. Why anyone would give a shit about ROKon Magazine at this point without me prompting them is…intriguing.
My favorite cover of ROKon Magazine.
I am working with some people on a new online literary zine, so maybe someone was curious about me through that? But how they would know about ROKon Magazine specifically if that was the case is a mystery.
But I find the whole thing — while intriguing — a lulz. I’m so old at this point that I only keep breathing out of spite. Sigh.
Every time someone who clearly knows me from my time in Asia looks at my LinkedIn profile I don’t quite know what to do. I am who I am. I try to be the best person I can be.
What’s more, I’ve changed a great deal from who I was in Asia. It’s like I’ve had a brain transplant. I now have a great deal of humility that I did not have back in the day. I look at old pictures of myself and there’s definitely a Before ROKon Magazine and an After ROKon Magazine element to my appearance.
I was a very….colorful…person during my time in Asia. There’s something unnerving about people who knew me way back when — now almost 20 years ago! — still being interested enough in me to look me up on LinkedIn.
All they learn is I haven’t done much with my life since I left Asia. In fact, the only thing of note that I’ve done is work on a novel for years and years. But, at the moment at least, I’m pretty (outwardly) a loser.
No one believes in me, but me. I still believe that I have at least one more hattrick in me. I really believe this novel has a lot of potential. I really believe — in fact I know in my heart — that I am going to sell this novel and it will have some measure of success.
The potency of The New York Times comes from how many people believe in it. And, in its own way, that’s what made Gawker Media so potent at one point — it was easy to believe in it. Until it wasn’t because it was icky.
I have a tendency to draw attention to myself.
But I do believe that there is a market — and audience — for a media outlet that leans into the spirit of the old Gawker’s early days when it was a fun, snarky blog that rallied the troops every day with its call for droll common sense.
Of course, the obvious venue for this would be a podcasting network of some sort. And, yet, I think even podcasting is so mature these days that, lulz, why are we even talking about this.
This all makes me think about how if I somehow magically lived in New York City that I would start an old fashion zine that covered whatever borough I lived in. I really enjoy zines — obviously — and if I did a good enough job with the zine, I think people of note would take interest in it.
Put me in, coach.
Of course I would hand the thing out in person in front of offices of The New York Times in an effort to catch media attention for it. Even though I’m old as hell, if I was living in either NYC or LA for any duration of time, I could still draw a lot of attention to myself just by…being myself.
And, yet, lulz.
Anyway, there definitely seems to be something of a vacuum in modern media at the moment. Or maybe everything is so scattered and defuse at this point that since there’s no “center” anymore that it’s just not possible for there to be an alternative to it.
Barring something I simply can not predict at the moment, I’m not going to South Korea or Asia anytime soon. But that doesn’t stop me from really wanting to return for a few weeks.
Me, (background), in the bad old day of Seoul.
I think, in all honesty, what’s going on is I just want to visit A Real City and I’m either too broke (NYC) or it’s too far away AND I’m broke (LA). So, I idly muse about going to Asia again.
It’s been so long since I was in Asia that I think the whole thing would be a rather meh experience. There are a few people in Asia that if I specifically tracked them down there would be drama…but it’s just not worth it. I just want to swoop in for a few weeks, see some of my old stomping grounds then head home.
That’s it.
There is, of course, always a risk that some people will demand that I absolutely stay for this or that great job opportunity they would love for me to fill. That would be…existential…for more reasons than one.
But that’s a serious amount of hopeful daydreaming on my part. I think I could probably sneak into Seoul and leave without too much drama. Of course, there would probably be at least one Korean who would stop cold in their tracks if they saw me and freak the fuck out.
Me (background) with an acquaintance back int my crazy days in Seoul.
At some point in late 2006, everything changed in my life. I met the now late Annie Shapiro and she changed my life. A whole lot of crazy things happened that culminated in A VERY CRAZY THIING happening around my 35 birthday.
But I try not to think about that now, many moons later.
I’m a far more sedate, introspective person now. It’s like I’ve had a brain transplant. And, really, all I want now is the opportunity to finish and query my first novel with hopes of it being a break out hit success.
To this day, I think someone could write a screenplay based on what happend between Annie Shapiro and me back in the day. That was all very, very crazy.
The key thing is — as of right now, there is zero chance of me ever returning to South Korea. I just have the idea of one day returning on the brain at the moment since I’m not getting any younger. And, really, the world is so big that who knows, maybe I might have the means to return to South Korea, only to get distracted and go to Europe instead.
Back when I was a DJ at Nori bar.
At the moment, I just don’t know.
I only bring all of this up because something mysterious happened in my Webstats — someone went specifically to the post I did of me dwelling on what I would do if I went back to South Korea for a little trip. I have no idea what that means. They were in Canada, so it could very well be someone who knows me and is interested in any plans I might have to return to the Land of the Morning Calm.
The thing about me ever returning to South Korea is I would go back without knowing the context of my return.
It could be that it will be a nostalgic, uneventful little journey and I will return home to go on my next adventure somewhere else. OR, it could be a massive clusterfuck with all these people who remember the Bad Old Me giving me jump scares as they “accidently” run into me and confront me for all the crazy shit I did between late 2006 to early 2008.
The late Annie Shapiro and me, back when I was cute.
But I haven’t been in South Korea for a very long time. While I know I was really fucking weird at times while I was in South Korea the first few times….I’ve changed. I really have. All I’ve done the last decade or so is dwell on what went wrong with ROKon Magazine and how I could have done things differently.
And, what’s more, the person at the center of most of my fucked up behavior — Annie Shapiro — has shuffled off this mortal coil. So, really, everyone should just move on and let me visit my old stomping grounds in South Korea without giving me any grief.
I am very curious if Nori Bar is still open. I’m sure everything has changed if it is. It’s not like I could DJ there again for a night like I used to. I’m sure they just use something like Spotify to pick music, no need for a DJ. I had a lot of good times at that bar, I have to say.
I was leaving the grocery store the other day when I saw a ghost. Or, at least, I saw a doppelgänger for the late Annie Shapiro. As I approached the woman, my mind was in something of a panic: is that Annie?
The late Annie Shapiro
While Annie Shapiro is the only person I know who could successfully fake her own death, I think I have to accept that she is, in fact, tragically dead. But it was surreal seeing someone who looked so much like her.
Annie was probably one of the weirdest individuals I’ve ever met, and this is saying something given how fucking weird I AM. But, who knows.
The crux of how I think about Annie now that she’s dead is that we never had a chance to reconcile. And, yet, lulz, it was a long time ago and nobody cares anymore.
But I continue to think what happened between Annie Shapiro and myself and what a great novel or movie it might make. It was really, really fucked up.
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