Out with the parents

Ever since I first went away to college, I've had great ambitions for every trip home. Books to read, papers to write, work to catch up on, work to preempt: There really was no limit to the amount of stuff I always envisioned I could do with a few days' retreat to the cocoon of my upbringing.

This trip has been no exception.

Inevitably, though, something comes up. Distractions abound. And rather than hit that sweet spot of productivity I remember from past years -- when late at night I'd turn out all the lights in my room, save for the desk lamp, and imagine myself the legacy of medieval scribes working by candlelight -- I end up accomplishing less than I set out to do.

Last night the occasion for distraction was a meeting of National Taiwan University Dallas-area alumni. My dad's a member.

Despite my protestations earlier in the day -- which actually found a receptive audience in my dad -- my mom eventually coaxed me into going. I forget sometimes how busy my parents are when I'm not around. I also forget how eager they are to show off their children.

At these events, particularly the ones that happen outside of the holiday season, I see some familiar faces (my parents' friends, mainly), say hello (in English), eat what's put in front of me, and do my best to be the pleasant, conversant son I imagine my parents want. After a while, though, my interest always seems to wane. I speak and understand only vestiges of Taiwanese -- words related to food, transit, and education mostly -- and the program is inevitably in this language or, worse yet, Mandarin.

But I've learned to cope and find my own point of interest in these gatherings. I realize these men, my dad included, are the possible genetic futures that await me. Then I look around and think: Who among you are the most likely to be me? Will I have your complexion? Wear the same gold-rimmed glasses as you, down to the bifocal lenses? And will I talk about the same things: stocks, your kids, what we're doing to keep our blood pressure down? Or will I turn out completely different?

I looked to my left, at my dad, and snapped a picture. He was staring off in the distance.


I looked to my right, at my mom, and did the same. She was talking animatedly about something.


I ate the rest of my dinner and excused myself to go home early.