Remembering New Year’s resolutions

Gung Hay Fat Choy

Or in the less popularly heard Mandarin version : Gong Xi Fa Cai

Apparently, Year of the Rooster is good for business and cleaning up the messes of last year’s Monkey but a bad year to get married. But what do I know.

It is also the time of the year when most people tend to forget their January 1 New Year’s resolution especially if it involved physical exertion or food deprivation.

Since I am still five packs away from attaining six pack abs, I resolved that this time I would just work on my social skills instead of my poor attendance in pilates classes. Specifically the art of hob-knobbing. This will be the year when hobs will be greatly knobbed.

The difficulty with hob knobbing – like pottery, the lambada or the Swedish touch massage – is it is an art form and I am stuck with a skill set that closely resemble those of Moe Syzlak. I can operate in a functional level and from a distance actually resembles an accomplished mingler. But upon closer inspection, it is embarassingly clear that I possess an unsure stroke, my technique (inconsistent, at best) relies on “happy accidents” from copious amounts of booze to unleash the boyish charm in me.

Last weekend, I have the opportunity of putting it into practice when my good ol’ friend Cesar asked if I am interested in attending an opening of an art exhibit.

“Will there be food there?” I asked.

“I don’t know, maybe” is all he can reply.

Not a really very encouraging response the least, but I decided to go anyway. Last thing he said is dress code would be either formal or business attire, which left me stunned for a few seconds needing to lean on the wall to secure myself. When I hear formal, I see tuxedos and bow ties. Neither of which I have in my closet. I think the last time I actually wore formal was during my high school graduation. (Nobody ask when it was, cause I ain’t gonna tell). As for business attire, the only one that I have have not kept up on my “expansion”.

Lucky for me, I managed to watch an episode of Queer Eye for the Straight Guy and learned about the saving graces of sweaters with dress shirts underneath and shirtsleeves appropriately folded up.

So after trying to decide whether a two fold or a three fold would look more formal, off I went bearing with me a new attitude of meeting strangers. My wingmen (or wingpersons) for the evening would be the above mentioned friend Cesar who with his multi-linguistic abilities and high speed internet connections is what I call “a man of the people”. His wife, Laura, who had been attending lot of business networking events last year had now comes with more contacts in Vancouver than a Downtown Eastside coke dealer.

As always soon as we get there, my first quest was to see where the food table is.and as I nod and rub shoulders with people I also inch my way to the free booze and food. Cesar caught up with me while grabbing a baby carrot and asked if want some champagne.

“You know unless it came from Champagne, France, it is just sparkling wine” I retorted

But based from the rolling of the eyes and facial reaction, I decided not to use it anymore that evening.

So after my initial foray on the buffet table, I decided to actually look at some artworks. The art exhibit showcased the works of 4 local artists, mostly paintings. Though I have trouble categorizing a piece of art where some kitchen implements are glued into a canvas. I decided I can just call it canvas art.

I am uncomfortable going to art exhibits and looking at artworks My greatest fear is that someone would ask me for my opinion. Everytime someone asks me to comment on contemporary art I feel stupid. I never know what to say-either I like it, or I don’t like it.You see, I am a bit dense in regards to art appreciation. People might see something hidden in Mona Lisa’s smile. All I see is a young Italian girl’s portrait. Someone makes me undergo a

Rorschach inkblots

test, all I might see is a paper with a blot of ink spilled in it.

At any rate, while looking at a multicolored polygonal painting, I suddenly I remembered an episode from the ’80s TV series Bosom Buddies, the one where Kip (Tom Hanks) has his first art exhibit.

A critic asks him, “Why did you call this painting Aunt Ceres’ Garden.”

And Kip says, “Because it is my Aunt Ceres Garden.”

The critic wrinkles his nose. “How shallow.” Later the critic raves about a painting of a red circle on a white background. He says something like, “It reduces reality to its most elemental form.”

And Kip says, “It’s the flag of Japan!”

With that punchline I was unsuccessfully trying to hold off a chuckle that I think ended up sounding like a snort. Producing some weird looks around me.

At some point, the speeches came, long drawn out ones thanking practically everybody in the room for making the event possible. Thanking the artist for their marvelous works and the gallery owner who so graciously housed the exhibit. There was an acknowledgement of those affected by the tsunami in Asia which probably would have a profound affect on me if I was allowed to wear jeans.

In the end, I have one not entirely awkward conversation with a local journalist about aquariums and the pros and cons of saltwater tanks. But most of the time, I just clung to my more sophisticated wingmen like a lost child, drinking sparkling wine after sparkling wine, feeling increasingly self conscious of the tighness of my sweater and convinced that I have somehow grown man-boobs

Glass Half Full. It may not be my finest moment but I figured it is a great kickoff to my resolution albeit over a month late. That and I fairly adept to the shirtsleeve folding technique.

Have A Great New Lunar Year.

 

Picture of the day

Thousands of visitors are flocking into this office building in Clearwater, FL, believing it is the image of the Virgin Mary. (local6.com)