Historical Preservation Project

Hundreds of old and new family photographs, negatives, and slides sit stacked on my floor, ready to be restored and archived digitally. This is a project that I had been wanting to do for some time now. Primarily because, for most second generation Korean-Americans, heirlooms and histories or geneology tables written in English are scarce, if nonexistent; so family photos come closest to a tangible family history. Given the age and deterioration of some of the most valuable photos in the collection, including some rare shots taken during my grandparents' earlier days in occupied Korea, there was a growing sense of urgency to restore and preserve eternally through digital technology the images dating back to what will soon constitute an entire century, spanning three or more generations of family memories. The later photos definitely lighten the mood and the gravity of the earlier ones which subtly and not so subtly reflect on the turbulence of their particular times. Think two world wars, poverty, foreign occupation, civil war, the Cold War, national division, nascent democratization, harsh autocratic regimes, etc. The Korean civil war in particular touched the lives of every Korean family; and the legacies resulting from the forced separations of family members continue to echo through our generation and I suspect, future generations. On a lighter note, many of the more recent photos cover the typical milieu of a midwestern, suburban family (think images of grass lawns and large tract homes, weekend picnics at the lake, the obligatory cross-country family roadtrip, boy scout and girl scout gatherings, cheesy halloween costumes, decorated Christmas trees, large Thanksgiving Day spreads, etc.). It will be interesting to see how these images contrast with those of our children and their children. Hopefully not as starkly as those between ours and our grandparents' times.

Arrested Development

Had dinner last night with a group of old college friends including my freshman year roommate who flew out to San Francisco from New York for a short vacation with his girlfriend. Funny how we are all approaching our mid-thirties, half of us married, one engaged to be married, one with a child already, half with mortgages, etc., but judging from our interactions at dinner, you would have thought we were still carefree undergrads at Berkeley. The more things change, the more things stay the same.

Wells Fargo, For "Sail"

I have been working at Wells for several years now and for the most part, have appreciated the values and culture of the larger organization. No complaints really. The one thing that does slightly annoy me though is the persistent need to toss the trademark Wells Fargo stagecoach into every promotional opportunity possible. Every commercial, every piece of marketing material, every giveaway item, every piece of letterhead. Maybe I'm a bit sensitive. The actual stagecoach sits in the glass showcase of the Wells Fargo Museum directly across the street from me and it "greets" me more than four times daily on my way in and out of the building. In fact, come to think of it, I see it more often than my immediate family members. One of the first things you do as a new corporate hire is to take a photograph alongside the stagecoach in the museum. I half kiddingly asked the photographer if I could pose crouched in front of one of the wheels as if about to be run over. He was not amused. Well, appears I have yet another transportational nemesis to contend with. Our financial risk management group along with a handful of other wholesale banking units is sponsoring a fifty foot yacht, newly named Wells Fargo - American Pioneer, during the quadrennial one-man, transatlantic race from Plymouth, England to Boston, Mass. You can track the boat's progress here: www.gryphonsolo.com. If it wins the race, you can expect to see it in the commercials on a television or ATM machine near you. Thankfully for me, the museum has no room for both.

Brief Update to Monday Morning Madness

Appears the protesters prefer sourdough to peaches. The San Francisco police and the local media are anticipating thousands to converge on Moscone today. Lovely. And lovely for my commute.

Executive Order 11582

President Bush issued an executive order earlier today closing down all federal agencies and offices this coming Friday in remembrance of former President Reagan who died this past weekend. All of the financial markets followed suit so it appears our desk will be closed as well. Thought it was an interesting coincidence that Reagan, best known as the man who helped end the Cold War, died the day before the sixtieth anniversary of the D-Day invasion, which everyone knows, hastened the end of WWII; but also, by introducing a large American troop presence to Germany, was a major factor leading up to the beginning of the Cold War after the German defeat.

Chan Cannes Cook

With all of the international media attention that Michael Moore received when his yet to be released film, Fahrenheit 9/11, won the Palm d'Or prize at last month's Cannes Film Festival, I hadn't realized that a Korean film had taken home the Grand Jury Prize. Of the two highest Cannes prizes, the former is voted on by a select committee of judges (a handful of past prize winners) and the latter is voted on by the mass of audiences attending the festival. The film Old Boy by director Chan Wook Park is the second in a trilogy which all center on the theme of revenge. Not sure if I'll enjoy the subject matter or the genre, but Park's previous hit, Joint Security Area had me engaged from start to finish. Should be an interesting rental once it gets distributed here in the States.

Monday Morning Madness

I drove into the financial district early this morning and began to notice a good two to three hundred San Francisco police officers in riot suits posted around the perimeter of the Moscone Convention Center. There were barriers erected, checkpoints set up, and helicopters buzzing over us. Given the extreme show of force, for a second, I feared we were hosting the always combative G-8 Conference, but then recalled that the G-8 was being held tomorrow in Georgia. Well, the morning edition of the SF Chronicle provided me the answer. "This week, San Francisco is hosting the annual meeting of the Biotechnology Industry Organization. Approximately 20,000 scientists, executives and financiers from across the country and around the world are attending the event, which runs through Wednesday. And just as in the beginning, biotechnology remains controversial, particularly the re-engineering of foods and experimenting with material from human embryos. In addition, biotech is one of the world's most thoroughly globalized industries, making it a target of protests." Someone had mentioned this to me about a month ago, but I had all but forgotten about it. Guess the activist community has had to make a tough choice between protesting either the G-8 in Georgia or the international biotech conference in San Francisco. I'm hoping the protesters prefer peaches with their granola.

Freud or Fraud?

After brunch today, during a walk through the Fourth Street shopping district of Berkeley, a friend (and I won't identify which friend for fear the prosecution will use it against me at the homicide trial) mentioned that I was in their dreams from the previous night. Experience has taught me that anytime anyone starts a sentence with "Hey, you were in my dreams last night", you should make for the hills immediately. Apparently, in this dream, I was walking down the aisle of my wedding and all was as it should be, except for one notable development, male pattern baldness. Say what? Yes, apparently, in my friend's (or now, more aptly, "friend"'s) dream, my previously plush luxuriant Kim Jong-il bouffant of hair had been reduced to a coin-sized crescent of stragglers in the front. What it all means, I have no clue, but it was disconcerting nonetheless. To soothe the Freudian sting, I surmised that they had just viewed The Last Samurai on DVD and simultaneously just read our Save the Date wedding notices, confounding the two in the synaptic blender of their cerebral cortex. I'm just thankful no ritual suicide was involved. And fortunate for this friend that I was partially distracted by my enjoyment of a very tasty cold, blended coffee drink from Peet's.