Coach class

Back when I was still unemployed, a former rowing coach asked whether I wanted to volunteer to help him out with Central Florida Rowing, UCF's club crew program, just a couple of days a week, because he needed the help, and well, I wasn't doing anything at the time.

I'm glad I took him up on the offer, because I've been surprised at how much I've enjoyed it and how much I care about the kids. (I can't stop myself from calling them "kids," even though the group of 8 or 9 whom I coach are college freshmen and sophomores.)

I think it's been a win-win for both me and them. It's been a personal-enrichment exercise for me as far as trying to convey processes and techniques, as well as help develop what little leadership skills I have.

At the high-paying software-company job I left earlier this year, I played a similar role of instructor -- but it was of technical information at which I myself was not an expert and therefore uncomfortable explaining. (I still think I could have become an expert eventually, but not before I rode the elevator to the roof of the swanky office building in which I worked and leaped off.)

But rowing: I do know rowing well -- at least the fundamentals -- and uncharacteristically, I can say that with confidence.

I coach two afternoons a week, riding in a launch just like this and barking out simple orders like a drill sergeant. I've always been soft-spoken, which has caused some trouble because I have to not only make sure the rowers hear me from 30 feet away, but I also have to shout over a motor. But that's all part of the personal-enrichment exercise I guess. I've been learning to yell, and I sometimes come home hoarse.

I even find myself thinking of coaching (read: work, even though I'm unpaid) on my days off, coming up with exercises and drills, thinking of what "we" need to work on or what needs improvement. I've rarely held a position that occupied my thoughts on my days off. I show up thoroughly prepared, with LED lights (it gets dark during the time we're on the lake, and we're all supposed to wear lights, a la cyclists, for safety), tools, reporter's notepad, athletic tape, seat pads and various other pieces of equipment.

The aforementioned former UCF coach once saw me walking across the beach with my little reporter's notepad -- I carried it because I'm horrible with names and I was adamant to learn them -- and said to me, "The good news, is you're organized. The bad news is, you're organized." The implication was that I could easily give myself an ulcer at this job, because trying to stick to a plan is futile when one little unexpected occurrence, such as a single rower no-showing, will inevitably be a monkey wrench. (Which immediately harkened me back to my failure at the software-company job. I think I tried too hard to be methodical, which is in my DNA. When things happened so fast and so chaotically there, I was doomed to fail.)

Coaching also has helped me feel useful, important and productive professionally. I feel like the kids are getting something out of it, too, since they're doing drills and learning techniques with which they're not familiar. They seem to respect me, and a few have even followed me to my car after a practice and asked if I could help them get better at X or Y. I have another story with this item, but I'll save it for our next convo.

It's a new position in which I find myself, and I'm having fun with it so far.

Eyesore update

A second slant-eyes pose, this time from an Argentinian sports team, as emerged.

But I'm actually kind of glad it did, because it started a lively discussion among Consumerist readers, who are a bit more mature than your average Yahoo and at least can post halfway intelligent responses (for the most part).

Many thought it was slightly offensive, but not to the extreme as blackface. A few didn't think so at all. An Argentinian even responded to say that it is not considered offensive in his country and described the action as "friendly and playful." He was quite nice and said that "if any Chinese friends out there find this offensive I apologize for my misunderstanding."

Finally, a commenter asked if there were any Asians out there who would say whether the photo(s) offended them, to which I and several others had the same response: Yes, it's offensive. Yes, we've seen it all before, including people saying to us, "ching, chong, ching, chong," as if that means something in Chinese.

However, aside from one, all the Asian commenters grew up in North America or Northern Europe. Have we become so overy sensitive that we can't take a joke? Or is the rest of the world so isolated from other cultures that they still find other types of people curious and amusing? The one Asian commenter not from the West said he lived in Seoul, and when he asked a friend whether the photo was offensive, his friend said no.

That doesn't change my personal feelings toward the photos, which is that if there were a question as to its taste, do something else. Just be polite.

The evil eye

As a kid, I was on the receiving end of this gesture countless times. And invariably, the kid performing the gesture had to recite the "Chinese, Japanese..." rhyme, perhaps making it a "cute" playground act.

I'm sure every Asian kid who grew up outside of Asia has had it done to him at some point in his life.

But adults -- pro athletes to whom people look up as role models -- making the grade-school gesture? Immature. Intolerant. Unnecessary. Disappointing.

I've tried to keep an open mind, see their side: Perhaps the culture in which they were raised might not expose them to offensive gestures. Or, am I overreacting, too sensitive? Becoming another annoying case of political correctness run amok?

No, I don't think so. It is an offensive gesture.

It's a gesture performed by millions of youngsters the world over for the purpose of teasing another. No, young kids don't know right from wrong yet. But they don't tease others like a teen boy who would tease a girl because he secretly likes her and is trying to keep her attention. Youngsters aren't that complicated yet. They tease because they either simply get a laugh or kick from mocking another, or they're angry, jealous or trying to assert dominance. For the most part, they eventually grow out of teasing altogether and don't find it amusing any more.

So back to the Spanish team.

"One of our sponsors asked us to pose with a 'wink' to our participation in Beijing, [so] we made an Oriental expression with our eyes," Spaniard Jose Calderon, who plays for the NBA's Toronto Raptors, said on his Web site. "We thought it was something appropriate and that it would always be interpreted as somewhat loving."

If the gesture were all in good fun and a gesture of respect, would they have willingly posed with spears for an Olympic Games held in Africa? Who knows. But I doubt the advertiser for whom the Spanish team posed ever would have approved of that. Why is it seemingly acceptible to tease Asians but not other minorities?

Not all on the Spanish team was comfortable with the pose. Pau Gasol, another NBA player, said, "Some of us didn’t feel comfortable doing it just because to me it was a little clownish for our part to be doing that. ... I think it is just a bad idea I guess to do that, but it was never intended to be offensive or racist against anybody. ... I didn’t find it very funny. I didn’t find it offensive, either. I guess some guys didn’t mind. To me I don’t want to be that way, I guess, to be doing that stuff."

So if at least one person in the group felt sheepish about the gesture, that should have been a red flag. I don't mean to be the P.C. Police. But if the team and advertiser wanted to pay respect to the Chinese, there were so many other ways to do it than a schoolyard taunt.

UPDATE: Good question posed by buddy Plan9B: How do Asians living in Spain feel about the ad?

Debbie Downer moment

Ate at one of my favorite sushi places in town, Bikkuri, tonight. I hadn't eaten there in several weeks, and I'm sad to say it's not what it used to be. WAS: Part take-out, part counter-service sushi joint, with a limited number of two-tops at which you could eat after your food was prepared, that appealed to downtown hipsters on a budget. NOW: Full-service Japanese restaurant with a bigger kitchen, and the former kitchen preparing take-out meals only. Tonight, there weren't nearly as many people in there as there used to be. The prices on the menu also have gone up, and that combined with now having to tip yer wait staff is a double punch in the pocketbook.

I liked going there not only because it had pretty decent sushi for the price, but it was a charming little place that reminded me a little bit of Tokyo. I loved the atmosphere. It always seemed to bustle with skinny, hip urbanites, gay and straight. The Engrish signage and menu items made me smile. You ordered at the counter right by the front door, then loitered around, grabbed an always-recent copy of GQ, US Weekly, People or Entertainment Weekly from the stack of magazines they always had near the front door, or hoped to snag a coveted table while waiting for your food.

Now, it's just another generic Japanese restaurant. (Except for the residual Engrish, thank goodness.)