Did you enjoy my last post? I used to hate Ben Stiller movies like There's Something About Mary and Meet the Parents because it was just non-stop cringe at the characters' long trail of misfortunes. But clearly they connected with some audience, so presumably at least some of you like reading that sort of story. So here are some more:
Quilt
Sleeping is the dominant single activity in our lifetimes — even more so for kids. As a kid, I probably talked about the topic of sleeping or being in bed pretty often. No, I don't have any particular recollection of what exactly I would have talked about, but I have a distinct memory of constantly referring to blankets/comforters/covers/duvets as "quilts". So I imagine, if you listened to one of these stories as shared by elementary school-aged Andrew, it would go something like, "I turned on X-Files last night and I got so scared I watched it from under the quilt".
For the longest time, I had no idea how or why this particular term became so dominant in my vocabulary. But after some thought, I have two non-conflicting theories. First, as mentioned above, there are so many different ways to refer to the cover under which we sleep: covers, sheets, quilt, blanket, bedspread, etc. Who cares about the differences? Look, I didn't grow up watching Martha Stewart Living (that might be a lie). In Mandarin, I'd just use a single term as the catch-all: bèi 被, so in my mind I may have decided that one single word in English was sufficient as a translation.
Why quilt in particular? It's not incorrect, in the standardized English sense of the term. Problem is, no one natively speaks standardized, dictionary English. And in Fresno vernacular, I'm pretty sure quilt is only used when you're talking about your bed cover as a kind of heritage art piece, like something ten generations of Daughters of the American Revolution would have collectively sewn together, no doubt all while gathered around a fireplace. Growing up in Fresno among Mennonites, there'd be an annual gathering of the West Coast community at Fresno Pacific, and one of the highlights was a real deal quilt auction. I imagine myself being surrounded by hundreds of quilts at some point in my first year here — maybe that's where I latched on to the word.
Gossip
I never thought of myself as a big burper (someone who burps; is that even a word?) But indeed I did on occasion burp a little. For whatever reason, for at least a couple years, I didn't know a burp was called a burp. And belching? That was clearly reserved for advanced users. For reasons unbeknownst to me, I called them gossips. Bonus, I might have also referred to hiccups as gossips. Why in God's name did I say that (so much cringe). My best guess is that the word gossip sounded slightly onomatopoeic to me, and I just casually assumed that the world must denote any sort of sudden, unintended emission of air from my mouth.
Parisson
When I first came to this country, I watched a lot of TV. Well, I probably already watched a lot of TV back in China, but I definitely watched a lot after I came here. "Screentime" wasn't yet a concept among immigrant parents. The differences between Chinese and American TV were many. But one of the biggest differences was election ads. For a kid who watched hours of TV a day, that could potentially mean hours of commercials, as well. Suffice it to say that I knew Ross Perot's name pretty well by summer of 1992.
We're don't adhere to an organized religion, but during my childhood my mom always made it a point to have me visit different churches while growing up. I think she felt like it was an important part of American Life that she didn't want to me to feel completely alienated. I'm fairly certain that sometime in 1992-1993, first-time politician Jim Patterson, who was running for mayor of Fresno, made a campaign stop at some kind of ethnic function. From what I can piece together, it might have been during Chinese New Year 1992, and may have taken place at the very unique
St. Genevieve Chinese Catholic Church in Fresno. He walked around and shook his hand with each attendee, including my family, and asked us for our vote (not that we were voters back then).
Knowing who he was and feeling rather proud of my encounter, I gleefully shared with my class on the next school day that I met Jim "Parrison". I suppose I hadn't yet mastered the proper pronunciation of Patterson quite yet. And with all things politics in this country, I immediately had a heckler - one of my classmates interjected, shouting: "it's Patterson!!" Ah, to be red with embarrassment.
Pasture
I had a classmate from elementary through high school named Kara. She moved to Fresno from Kansas, and I think the only thing I knew about Kansas in the third grade was that there were tornadoes and life was in black and white. Did I mention I watched a lot of TV?
Besides attending the same school, our respective mothers knew each other through work. Her father was a pastor. Not being religious, I had no idea what that meant until a bit later. But that didn't prevent me from parroting off on at least one occasion about that interesting factoid. It manifested itself as "Kara's dad is a pasture." I don't know who I was talking to at the time, but I don't think I got called out for it on the spot (unlike the Parrison incident). I'm pretty sure I knew enough to know that something sounded off, and it has truly haunted me ever since.
Andrew's Revenge
Back in Mrs. Schneider's second grade class, we were assigned animal reports. Everyone picked an animal and then presented their findings in front of the class. Jeff Thompson was a pretty smart guy - I recall he was one of the better mathematicians in an already competitive class. Anyways, he gave a report on Emperor Penguins, but the oral presentation was a bit excruciating because Jeff kept on pronouncing Emperor as "Emperior" (like Superior). Now, clearly I wasn't native-fluent in English, but after reading the entire Fresno County Library children's catalog of animal-related books and periodicals (cough... Zoobooks) I knew my animals. At some point in the middle of his presentation and after the sixth or seventh Emperior, I became the heckler... "it's Emperor!"
Sorry, Jeff.
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| More carefree times... |
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