On Who’s Authority?

Now that I almost have my own place to live, I am in the market for a bed. Since I am living in New York, bed bug capital of the world among many other distinctions, I’ve decided to go new when it comes to buying a mattress. I took a journey down to the Red Hook section of Brooklyn, an old industrial area that like many areas of Brooklyn, has classic old brick buildings that are being populated with many new bars and restaurants and of course, yuppies. So I went to IKEA, located in a remote area on what was probably a fine piece of vacant land on the edge of nowhere not many years ago. Thankfully, it was saved from obscurity by the generous Swedish company.

While traversing the maze in search of bedroom furnishings, I noticed that many people seemed to be speaking Swedish. This is New York, and people speak many languages here, but knowing the Swedes invented or perhaps perfected the art of compact living through stylish pressed particle board assemble yourself furniture made in China only ten percent of the time AND are fans of said furniture, I felt more inclined to spend my American dollars there. It’s my same rationale for patronizing a hole in the wall Mexican joint where no one speaks English. It just seems more authentic if people who represent the ethnic and cultural group that created a product are there consuming a product. I spent a year teaching English in Korea and came back to the USA with a newly expanded desire for Kim Chi, Duck Pokee, Table top Pork Belly Barbeque, and other spicy, pungent, garlicky, Korean delights. I was living in L.A. in the year after returning and went to a large, modern, West L.A. Korean restaurant. It was full of upper middle class white folk wearing trendy clothes and we knew we would be disappointed. The food wasn’t bad, just kind of bland, toned down perhaps. A few months later we went to a place where the sign was in Korean, the people barely spoke two words of English, the decor was awful, but the food was amazing. Oh yeah we were the only non Koreans there. Me being half white, half Chinese, and with my Chinese American uncle.

Honestly you can’t please everybody, yet these are the silly rules I live my life by. I’m just hoping the Swedes don’t disappoint, since I think I’ll be going for the Yngwie Malmsteen bedframe with a Sultan Holla or FinnViking mattress. Or some hergy durgy like that.

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