September 21, 2004

• So last week, me and my dad were at a business meeting and I was sitting there playing with a rubber band that I happened to have around my wrist.  For some reason, I end up having these rubber bands around my wrist often because I frequently sort through letters that are tied together with a rubber band, and I don’t want to throw the rubber band out (my attempt at being frugal).  But what ends up happening is me forgetting that I have these rubber bands around my wrist and then ending up wearing a rubber band bracelet for the rest of the day.

  
  

  So on this occasion, I guess I must have noticed a rubber band around my wrist again, and I subconsciously started to play with it.  Maybe a nervous habit.  I don’t know.  But then, my dad notices me doing this and goes to our business colleague, “… he always liked to play with rubber bands when he was a kid.”  And starts chuckling!

  
  

  Gee.  Thanks Dad for pointing out that your 29 year old, MBA graduate, son is still a kid that likes to play with rubber bands.  You rock!  That fucker.

  
  

  But then this got me thinking.  I did like to play with rubber bands a lot.  I remember back in Korea, we used to have this thick black rubber band string that my mom used to use to replace the elastic that wore off on our underwear.  Well, one of my uncles once showed me how if you twist this rubber band around and around, it looks like a caterpillar.  And if you let it go once it’s all twisted, it slowly starts to unravel, making it look like it’s an actual bug that moves.  For some reason, I found this fantastically entertaining!  I literally sat there for hours twisting the rubber band and letting it go over and over again. 

  
  

  I also remember that I liked to play with socks.  For some reason, I was able to entertain myself with a pair of socks as a kid.  I’d roll them up and fold it, .. and then unfold it.  Make a sock puppet, … make a sock ball and throw it around, etc.  Endless hours of entertainment, I tell ya.

  
  

  Now, … you people reading this might think, boy, what a strange kid Dr. Evil was.  But you know what, … this doesn’t mean that I was a strange kid.  Sure, … this might mean that I’m somewhat easily amused.  I’ll give you that.  But do you know what this really means??   It means that my parents were too fucking cheap to buy me real toys.  Either too cheap or just didn’t give a shit enough.  Either or.  Regardless, … they just threw me whatever they had lying around.  A rubber band and some fucking socks. 

  
  

  “Oh, … Little Dr. Evil has no toys.  Here you go, … go play with this.” 

  
  

  

  
  

   

  
  

  And I bet you the first pair of socks that I played with weren’t even a fresh pair!  I bet you that my dad probably just took the socks off of his feet and tossed it at me.  That fucker. 

  
  

  No.  I didn’t have any fucking legos, or transformers, GI Joe action figures.  No.  Really.  All I had was a fucking pair of socks and a rubber band.  And you know what, … it’s not bad enough that they turn me into a fucking welfare baby that plays with socks.  Now, … years later, … they go as far as to make fun of me about it when I’m a grown adult.  You believe that??  The world is a fucked up place I tell ya.  Fucked up.

  • 2:31 pm
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