The third distinct season

Winter is cutting into fall here. Yellowish skies and warm autumnal breezes turn, in a snap, to cold and cutting gusts under scudding grey clouds.

One of my favorite times of year, actually, and Al Green plainting on the music box…..

I can still feel the breeze,
that rustles through trees,
and misty memories of days gone by
But we could never see tomorrow,
Would you believe that no one, no one,
ever told us about the sorrow..

A bit cliche on the (web)page, but infused with pathos when old Al did his simultaneous whisper/scream thing.

Things here in the land of the failing son are still going well. The lads in the Admin class took me out for sam-gyap-sal and vastly underperformed their national image as drinkers. Still, the restaurant was a grand one and they did pass along the good news that their class expects next Tuesday’s session will be the final one of this half-term. Not that these lads aren’t fine and doughty ones – indeed, they are good at both English and rude humour, and that goes a long way towards making class sessions a good thing. Still, these three—night—a—week night-classes are a freaking drag. A week or two off would be a special thing. ;-)

Last evening the OAF and I celebrated 11 years of mutually indentured servitude ;-) with a dinner, a quick visit to the 901 club (our newly crowned Social Director had rounded up some Pumpkin Pie – the OAF had doubles on that) and a quiet night at home.

Quiet except that I somehow managed to fark up the big-toe on my right foot and spent today limping about like Richard the III. I’m into some more sensible shoes this evening and hope that things are well enough in the morning that the OAF and I can still down to city center to see that thing… well.. that thing that was totally inevitable -----

----yes, Daejeon has tired of the pesky details attendant to the “International Bartenders Championship”, the “International Balloon Festival” and the “International Water Festival”.
The effort was too great and now they have trumped all of Korea’s attempts to go global, get hubbed, and be international.

Yes, this event is simply, and so inaptly, named the “International Festival.”

No more need for the titles to contain specific frauds, the big fraud is now the only important one.
Daejeon – it’s as international as kimchi!

Pictures will certainly follow, although if I need to gobble some pain-killers to walk, they may be even a bit more out of focus than usual.

And then “All the Young Dudes” rattles through the wires from the music box and all is well (escept my toe)…