Confessions of a Parent gone Mad...

On a beautiful Saturday morning in August Jeannie and I decided to drive to Ithaca to drop off the residual packages for our college bound son who had gotten a ride to Cornell the previous week. It seemed his ride only had space for "essentials", so he decided to take his two guitars and the laptop. His mother and I agreed to drive up eight hours back and forth, and bring him the remaining "non-essentials" like clothing, food, bed sheets, medicine, and books.

Oh we didn't mind because it gave us the opportunity to check out his new dormitory where he will be spending his second year. It would also enable his mother to sleep at night with the assurance that his living quarters met the Korean maternal standards of habitation conducive to academic excellence. Once we got to the dorm, I watched with mind numbing reverence as she meticulously made his bunker bed with a maniacal fervency of epic proportions. Like a woman on a mission, she managed with precision to fold all his clothes into the cubically challenged mini-cabinet draws. Upon unpacking, she realized one of his shoes were missing and turned to me and barked, "Honey, make sure first thing Monday you send his shoes by UPS". I must not have acknowledged her command to her satisfaction because she repeated herself but with a slightly added hysterical conviction. This time, I enthusiastically acknowledged that I would.

We also got to meet his dorm mate and was comforted to know that he didn't look like a Columbine wannabe. He had a nice Korean face, very clean cut (no excessive tattoos or piercings), and was very respectful to the elders (he actually bowed). Just from his disposition, we assessed that he was from a good family, his mother and father was still married, and that his great-grandfather was probably a rich landowner during the Lee dynasty.

As we were winding down, we met the parents of one of our son's friends. They too were visiting from New Jersey with their son's residuals and suggested we all have lunch together. Their son Kevin and our Collin went to Peru together over the summer on a program similar to "Doctors without Borders". So naturally since there was a connection, we graciously agreed since we didn't want to impress upon them that Collin's parents were anti-social.

But I immediately realized that I would be engaged in one of those tedious "Who's going to pay for the check" battles when Kevin's father laid down the first preemptive attack and pridefully declared, "Kevin, invite all your other friends to join us for lunch". By doing so, he was essentially announcing to the world "I got this!" In the Korean protocol of condescending etiquette, this was his way of graciously relieving me of any obligation to pay for the check while simultaneously establishing the intricate and complex hierarchy of the Korean caste system.

He might as well have thrown a shoe at my face. How dare he I thought. I was flabbergasted, I was appalled, and I was indignified. I knew I had to respond. I had to salvage my pride, especially in front of my wife and child, so I immediately countered with "Son, invite all your friends AND their parents!" Take that I grunted to myself with my chest proudly protruded like a posturing Baboon when his territory is threatened by another Alpha male.

Incredulously, before I had a moment to relish my conquest, without missing a beat, Kevin's father countered "Yes, do invite EVERYONE!" He was raising the stakes to defcon 1 and I knew this battle would get messy. I realized that the outcome will ultimately be determined on the battle field.

Having established the ground rules, we finally agreed on a Japanese restaurant after a dizzy flurry of exchanges and counter-punches. Kevin's father insisted that we go somewhere "nice". I insisted that we go somewhere "very nice" and back and forth it went until finally Kevin's father once again tried to slam dunk me by turning to Kevin and asking "Kevin, what is the BEST sushi restaurant around here?"

I realized at that moment I was dealing with a pro. He was going for the ultimate and final kill. He knew that it would be an egregious affront and an insult to his integrity and honor if I dared to pay for the check after he publicly staked claim to go the "BEST" sushi restaurant in town. But what he didn't know was that he was dealing with a seasoned warrior whose motto was to "win at all cost". It came down to either preserving his honor or mine and I was determined that my honor would prevail especially in front of my son and his friends.

As we entered the restaurant I could tell Kevin's father was scouting the area like a hawkeye searching for the most strategically advantageous position to lunge for the check if it became necessary. While being seated, we both tried to out-maneuver each other for a position that would give us the most direct access to the waiter. Once seated and given the menu, before even checking the prices Kevin's father declared in one fluid motion, "Everyone, please order whatever you want!"

It drove me mad because he was one step ahead of me again and deep down inside I was beginning to admire and respect his precision, craft, and unrelenting approach to his mission. But I knew I couldn't let my sentimentality weaken my objective as I quickly refocused to prevent myself from succumbing to his psychological warfare. But now I was getting desperate. I even considered the possibility of resorting to the ultimate "pretend going to the bathroom and pay for the check" ruse.  But I quickly erased that dirty thought from my mind knowing that such tactic would indeed betray my desperation.

Like two warriors in a zen-like state preparing for the imminent approach of the final battle, we sat across from each other, calm in the midst of the chaotic flurry of insignificant banter being thrown about and across the table. As the appetizers faded into dusk and the main entrees followed with the rhythmic marching staccato of Spartan warriors, in the distant background I can hear the sweet but cruel crescendo of the desserts looming.

I felt my senses reaching a climactic peak. My heart was beating faster and faster, picking up pace with each plate being cleared.  I found myself with the superhuman ability to see everything in ultra slow motion like Neo in Matrix dodging the plethora of bullets.  From my enhanced peripheral vision, I saw the waiter approaching from the corner of my eyes nonchalantly holding the check in the air. How cruel the gods are I lamented.  To the waiter, the check meant nothing.  To me, it meant everything.  For a split second I became blinded and wallowed in self-pity.

During that momentary lapse, suddenly before I knew it,  the check had landed right square in the middle of the table between us. Like two cowboys drawing for their guns we simultaneously reached for the check as if our lives depended on it.  Incredibly, both of us had grappled one half end of the check and everything and everyone around us became irrelevant.  His initial tug was a powerful one which revealed and confirmed that he was not an "imposter" who was only pretending to want to pay for the check.  These imposters are the worst kind.  They relish on the sadistic double dipping conquest of the rationalization that they did everything they could to pay for the check yet at the same time delighting in the sick satisfaction that they got away with a free meal.  These imposters are such cowards that their initial tug at the check gives them away instantly.

As we struggled back and forth with cringing determination to overcome one another, I happened to catch a fleeting momentary glimpse of the lower portion of the check which stuck out from the padded folder it was entombed in.  I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw what I thought was the final amount of the check.  It was equivalent to a Burberry trench coat I had my sights on since last September.  Also flashing right before my eyes was the new IPhone I was hoping for after years of toiling away with a Samsung series 1 flip phone.  Then, I was flooded with gut wrenching guilty thoughts about what I have done for my parents lately, the pair of sneakers long overdue for my little Ethan and of course my loving wife, the diamond ring I never got her. Where were my priorities? I became ashamed of myself that I would let my selfish pride among mere strangers dictate paying for this silly check at the expense of my family.

At that instant moment, it dawned upon me what was profoundly the right thing to do. So with humility and dignity, and without shame, I allowed myself to watch the check slowly slip away from the edge of my fingertips...