The New year. Chinese New Year that is, which is February 19th and I’m excited. The driver went to see his son in Daly City near San Francisco. One bus and hopping on the Bart gets you quickly to Powell and Union. 26.00 dollars for 4 of us round trip. I first went onto the Bart when I was still a single digit midget and now I’m 49. Time has taken its toll on the poor rail as it screeches out loud. So it was best to chat at the station stops if you had something worthy to say. I people watch, the tired commuters after a long day their chins to chest and on the phone. Then there is Chinatown which is special to me since I went there often by myself and tried things I had no business trying. Being by myself is freeing, so I was free to try anything nothing exotic but questionable. Salty Plum soda which is more Vietnamese than Chinese but hey when in Rome. It tasted like friggin ocean water the kind you spat out quickly when you’ve been toppled by a wave. I passed on anything gelatinous but I tried the dried stuff. Dried little cuttlefish, squid and brine flavored strips of preened pressed shrimp things . We have fruit roll ups and they have salty roll ups. According to YoYo Chinese CEO Yangyang the story behind the red envelopes and fire crackers was a beast that pillaged villagers when his food ran out and a beggar told them the 3 things the beast feared. Fire, noise and the color red. Three things I fear is sickness taxes and death. Nian gao which means “year cake” but also rise in stature and success every year. So here’s to Us all of us.
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