MORE GRIN N' TELL IT . . .

Cheech and I, I dare say, have a pretty damn phenomenal relationship with our parents. As far as first-generation parents go, our set is waaaay cool and even - gasp! - progressive. They minimize racist comments, they are Democrats, they actually develop relationships with the Hispanic and African-American customers they serve, they freely donate money to good causes, they use American-made products that don't smell weirdly like your great-grandmother back in the Motherland. And you know our parents are cool because really, what other parents do you know would sit you down and say "People don't like to say so, but a good sex life IS important in a marriage, and might be MORE important than what people like to call 'communication' and 'listening skills.'" ?! For crying out loud ... if you could've SEEN the look on my face after THAT comment came forth ... What other Korean dads do you know, who will grab you in the hallway and make you do the cha-cha-cha (no pun intended) into the kitchen?! What other Korean parents will tell you "don't wait up, we're going on a date and we're going to be home reeeeal late"?! What other Korean mom will tell you the whole sordid and fantastic tale of her and dad's meeting and (prolonged, agonizing) courtship while chowing down on C's homemade ice cream and interspersing her story with "ooh, this is good, you have to tell C to make me more"?!

But as great as my parents are, as much as I would give them an A+ for their parenting and the life they gave me and Cheech, and as much as I would NEVER EVER EVER trade them or make them unwitting participants in a "My Big Fat Obnoxious Fiance" for however many millions of dollars, there are definitely times when they just make me want to stomp my feet and scream my big head off.

For as much as the past thirty years in this adopted motherland has served them well, that time has not succeeded in removing the last vestiges of Confucian, traditional Asian reserve and passive-aggressivism from the very bone marrow of my mom and dad. It is still the case that when something doesn't go their way (read: when I don't do something they want), they -- or mom, in particular -- shut down. Silent treatment. A refusal to graciously acknowledge your presence. A denial, when confronted, that anything is "wrong."

Now, this doesn't happen so much. And it's not as awful as it sounds -- I don't know anyone who is NOT passive-aggressive, or who doesn't know how to effectively lay on the silent treatment, or who doesn't hold SOME little bit of a grudge. (Actually, that's not true. JKA doesn't hold grudges, and I wish I could be like her. But that's a project for another day.) And it usually blows over in a day or so. And I have learned to confront my parents in the last couple of years, metaphorically pinning them to the wall and becoming unafraid to say to them "if you're MAD at me, you have to TELL me because the silent treatment doesn't inform me what, if any, behavior of mine must be changed and/or why." (At this point, one or both will continue to insist that "nothing is wrong, hmph!" and walk out of the room, only to return within the next thirty minutes to say "you're right, something is wrong and you're right, I should tell you about it if I want you to behave a certain way because I know you can't read my mind." See, an old -- or older -- dog can still learn new tricks!)

But it's still annoying. It still breaks my heart to be on tense terms with my parents, whom I love so deeply, for even an hour, much less a whole day. It still makes me sad when we can't talk about something freely until we've stewed about it for a while. It still frustrates me to be the object of resentment and not know why. It still angers me that I can't live my life with a little less unreasonable scrutiny; that even though I'm an adult, my parents still regress into viewing me as a child simply because I live at home. And of course, my ego still roars "I didn't do anything wrooooong!" Even if I did. Hee, hee, she chuckles sheepishly.

So ... I have rebuffed my parents' latest effort to interfere in my soon-to-be-bubbling love life (right, Mrs. G and JaYcEe?), and mom is miffed. The initial confrontation has happened, with me using all the "I-language" skills I learned in IVCF and all the logic and rational speaking skills I learned at law school. The initial denial has come forth. I'm just gonna sleep on it because I'm too tired to not. And tomorrow, it shall blow over and all will be well at Chez ChaEsq once more. Sigh.

Anyone out there feel me?