Today, 20 years ago, was my first full day in South Korea. It was the single most dramatic changes in my life, ever. Even more than my first day at college. I really did go from “zero to hero.”
But that was all a long time ago. Lulz, nothing matters. I just have to buckle down and get back to work on my novel(s.) I am angry again that nobody takes my writing seriously.
I know I got a sold three or so novels in me. The only problem is, of course, that, lulz, the world may come to an end before all is said and done — I may never get the chance to query the novels. Below is a link to the craziness that happened a few years later I arrived in South Korea.
The case could be made that with the rise of A.I., the ESL teaching economy in Asia is about to undergo a severe retrenchment. It could be that as A.I. gets better and better at real-time translation, the idea of actually learning English will become quaint in the eyes of South Korean parents who are already often strapped for education cash.
But, I don’t know.
It may not be as simple as that. There is a lot to be said for the simple cultural exchange that takes place when young Korean children — and Korean society as a whole — are exposed to people from outside the country.
So it’s possible that there will be a lot of hand wringing, but, in the end, nothing much will change. Maybe a lot of the poorer school districts, outside of the major cities in South Korea, will give up on ESL, but in big cities nothing will really change that much.
I feel like trying to write a column about this for The Korea Times.
I occasionally muse about what might happen if I went back to South Korea for a visit. I had a lot of “rizz” as the kids say when I was in South Korea and I’m sure there are a few South Koreans who remember me quite well.
I can just see me walking around the street in Seoul if I went back any time soon and some random Korean from my years there who remembered me popping out of the woodwork and saying, “Hey, man, there’s this perfect job for you at Samsung I know about…”
But there are a lot of problems with such a scenario.
It’s not like I’m going back to Seoul anytime soon — if ever. I could be nearly 60 years old — or older — by the time my lot in life changes to the point that I can even think about a return to Asia.
There are some other issues, but lulz, I don’t feel like talking about it.
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.
For some reason, I find myself daydreaming about a return to South Korea sooner rather than later. I have no idea why this is. Maybe someone in South Korea is thinking about me really hard?
Anyway, barring something I just can’t predict, I won’t be returning to Asia for some time. The only known way with a clear timetable for me to return to Asia for a while would be if I sold one or both of my novels and they had some success. But from what I know of the post-production nature of the publishing industry….oh boy. It could be five years before anything like that happens — and that’s if I stick the landing.
So, I am just going to have to stew in my juices I suppose. I am going to be well past my prime by the time I return to Asia and it just won’t be the same or as much fun. And, in all honesty, if I hadn’t blown out an emotional knee after Seoul, I would have moved to NYC to seek my fame and fortune.
But….oh boy….I’m older now. A lot older now. And there is a small, small chance that if I found myself not in Seoul or NYC but in LA that I MIGHT be able to find a modicum of success simply because of my personality.
This summer marks the 20th anniversary of my first journey to Asia. There is a Before Asia me and an an After Asia me, for better or worse. Now, at the moment, the likelihood of me EVER returning to Asia — or even leaving the country — is quite remote.
Me, with my students in the summer of 2004.
I’m very, very, very, very poor.
But things are known to change in a heartbeat and, who knows, I might find myself with a little extra money at some point before I die and, as such, I could journey back to Asia for a visit. At this point, I think I would probably go to Japan, then South Korea, then Southeast Asia then come home.
The entire trip would be no more than maybe three weeks.
My biggest concern will be, of course, that I’ll be walking around, say, Seoul, and some Korean who remembers me from back in the day will all but demand I stay in country to, I don’t know, train LLMs for Samsung or something. That’s how things work in South Korea as an expat.
I don’t know what I would do in such a situation.
A lot would depend on HOW I got the money to return to Asia. If I blew up with my novel money, then I think I would politely just move on along. But if, say, something like the North Korean had collapsed and I was on my way to teach ESL there, then, yeah, I might stop in Seoul instead of finishing my journey to the former DPRK.
Anyway, all of this is just a bunch of daydreaming at the moment. There’s no reason to think I will sell my novel — even if I stick the landing — anytime soon. I could be in my mid-to-late 50s by the time I’m a published author, the way things are going.
But I have to admit that I continue to, on occasion, idly daydream about a return to Asia.
For some reason, I find myself daydreaming about a return to Asia. I was thinking if that became possible that I would land in Tokyo, stay a night, then head to South Korea to visit for about a week. I would go Seoul – Incheon — Ansan then head south on the KTX to see Busan.
2004 me
I would then head to Southeast Asia for a week before heading home.
I’m sure the fucking Internet has ruined everything to the point that such a trip just wouldn’t be what it might have been a decade ago. And, of course, enough South Koreans remember me that I’m SURE I would run into at least one of them while I was in country and they would all but demand that I stay in South Korea for this or that job that think I would be perfect for.
Ugh. I guess that would be a good problem to have, though.
And, yet, at the moment, the only way I would have the funds for such a thing would be if I stuck the landing on the novel, sold it and it had enough success that I could travel to Asia. But even under the absolute best of conditions, that would be probably a few years from now.
So, I could be in my mid-50s before I could return to Seoul. And it would just be very, very, very, very creepy for me to party with people just out of college once I got there. I hate that. But that’s my reality now.
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