It's always tough to really get the public's attention when opening a new business. However, the Koreans have found a surefire way to get people looking. The recipe for success has only a few simple ingredients: tall flower arrangements, and two scantily clad girls dancing to bad pop music while telling the passers by to come on in for some of whatever you're selling. These two girls were especially talented, for they not only danced but sang as well. The one on the left was the singer, and I'll tell you what; she could sell just about anything with her off key renditions of Britney's
Toxic. Although, for some paranormal reason she did not want to be in my photo at all, but her contract required that she stand on that podium and entertain for no less than three hours. So, I had her pinned, regardless of her random bouts of camera shyness. The other one had much less of a schizophrenic reaction to my picture taking of their performance. She gave her best sexy cheerleader pose and kim chi smile. I'm convinced that there will someday be peace on earth if we just snap enough photos of Asians. They always throw up the two finger salute to a world without war and are hopefully bringing us all closer one still frame at a time. Anyway, enjoi.
The Korean beach season lasts for a couple of months. Before and after this time the beach is upsayo, out of commision, cerado, not open for business. That is unless you're foreign and don't think that all of your activities should be done en masse with the rest of your nation. Imagine if Americans all did everything together. That would seriously be one crazy day at the shooting range followed by the worst day at Wal-Mart ever. Anyway, when the hoards and hives do converge on the ocean front their activities are no less strange than their hours of operation for the most public place in society. First point being that they want as little exposure to the sun as possible because they're still of the persuasion that being dark skinned is an ugly thing meaning that you are a field worker or some other form of migrant peasant. They actually bleach their skin Michael Jackson style, but that is whole different story to be written some other time. As a result of their disapproval of melanin they bury themselves in the sand, hide under umbrellas, cover 
themselves with newspaper, and wear absurd face covering visors that make them look extremely surreal like they just stepped out of some Star Wars space ship and want to find Skyewalker and kill him. Every respectable citizen and their family sits under umbrellas, lathers their body in sun tan lotion, drinks beer, eats fried chicken and ass cookies (its an ice cream sandwich that a man walks the beach selling; his chant is Aaasssssuh cooookkkaaaayyy), and jumps in the water with their inter tubes on occasion, but only long enough not to get a tan. The grandmas and grandpas have a slightly different take on the beach. They extremely enjoy burying one another in the sand and then sleep with newspaper covering their heads or sit and chat with their face visors on about life as a storm trooper. There are no bikinis to be seen, no Frisbees being thrown, no smash ball, no music, no surf (well except for one beach and that is a funny story too, but also to be saved for another day), and way too many people. Looking at the beach from a distance would befuddle the average unknowing westerner as to what was going on over yonder. I am certainly glad that Seurat was French and not Korean or that would have been one strange Sunday Afternoon. So I guess I'll see you at the beach. I'll be under the yellow umbrella trying to regain my I
rish skin
pigment
.
