Tuesday, November 08, 2005


I was walking my two little girls to school this morning. As usual, music was running through my head. Sometimes I sing in my mind. We were half way to school before I realized I was singing “Three Little Maids From School” from the Mikado. (No, I wasn’t dancing, smart ass.)

I had to leer at two street vendors, brush up closer than need be to a lady on a crowded sidewalk, and lust in my heart after a young mother, just to restore my masculine credentials.


They have a peculiar way to reward success in our Bangkok school. Our older girl, the 12-year-old Fie, has been singled out as a good student. Her reward? She has been given extra classes. We now go to school a half hour earlier and come home an hour later. That is her reward.


One of the ways of getting around Bangkok is by motorbike. Not your own, you pile on the back of a bike driven by a professional driver. They are easily recognizable. They all wear orange vests and congregate at a biker stand when they’re not on the road. They are all over the place. There may be thousands in the city. It’s cheaper than a taxi but more expensive than a bus.

There is a biker stand at the entrance of our soi or lane. 6 or 8 bikers hang out there. One is a woman. That is not common.

There is another girl in our soi who goes to the same school as my kids. This ‘little’ girl is caloric endowed. I don’t know her name but I think of her as “Large Marge.”

The school is perhaps ¾ of a mile away. My kids and I walk it. It’s great exercise for me.

“Large Marge” takes a motorbike both ways.

She will always be “Large Marge.”


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