Out with the Cock, In with the Bitch

Chinese New Year came on Sunday. The weather looked like it was going to be nice as I took a glimpse from my bed at 9AM. Scattered clouds, blue skies and seemingly warm temperatures. I got up at 10, showered from head to toe (a no-no according to tradition) and headed out to Chinatown. I got there around 1130, met up with some friends and went to a temple. I'm not particularly religious nor superstitious but I rather not mess with the funky funk. That kind of weird thinking still gets into your head in eerie ways.

The temple was vibrating with throngs of Chinese folks praying, inserting lit incense into the giant worship pot, getting their vegetarian lunchboxes and sipping holy water. Nevertheless, the urgency of doing things was ever so prominent as it appeared I was in everybody's way. Then again, it's typical. One would have thought that on this particular day, the folks would be more courteous. The courtesy is the fact that they don't curse you out aloud. Rather, they instigate with a smile and sneer while cursing you silently because you got in their way.

I find myself somewhat amused as the busy bees are buzzing with selfish rituals of bribery to the Gods of Luck, Fortune and Longevity. It's quite interesting that most of the people are only concerned about themselves rather than a general overall well-wishing for global peace or the end of violence. It's more like "I left you lots of food and burned lots of Hell Notes, so I hope you know to take care of me, especially when I go to the casinos or at the mahjong tables and make sure I don't get sick this year."

Prior to the beginning of the festivities, we tried to navigate Chinatown and it seemed to have lost that authentic feel. Years ago, the emasculation came in the form of banning fireworks by Mayor Rudy because it was dangerous and contributed to the continued survival of the illegal enterprises. (But it was okay for the Italians to set off lots of them during July 4th because it's tradition and America is about celebrating traditions and is the great melting pot.) Thousands of confetti-producing poppers were being sold at exorbitant prices to the mass of Chinese and non-Chinese trying to catch a glimpse of the 2006 celebrations.

My heart truly ached for the days of firework smoke and sound, the many dragon dances not subject to corporate sponsorship and the absence of self-promoting-bullshit artists. Maybe I'm a purist, but some things ought to be pure. Except bottled water.