There are no chopsticks in Thailand

Greetings from Phuket, Thailand,

You all must miss me feverishly.

Allow me to  give you a detailed synopsis of what has been happening.

Tuesday night, My dad , Leslie and I went to SF to drop me off.

As of recent, my dad searches for any excuse to go to SF, like my Grandma Dixie searches for reasons to go to the Big Store.

“Oh…. we just need desert for our guests.”

Ya Ok Dixie.

Fortunately, the trip was a healthy win-win for all of us and we aren’t diabetic.

Leslie, my dad and I go to eat, have a beer, a cigar and send me on my way.

Apparently when I am traveling I have an air of approachability, that I seemingly lack when I am at home. Maybe it was my Cal-Trans Orange Trucker Hat, my mis-matching sandals or my huge smile, but as soon as I got on BART(Bay Area Rapid Transit) some dude decides to come chat it up.

He introduced himself as an Average Joe Blow.

He was an advocate for being  black man  and being from Boise, Idaho.

The blue turf on the Bosie State Field must be hypnotic. As I got less and less interested in the conversation, he had less and less energy and got into the fetal positon to take a nap.

I get into the airport, and being the suave sophisticated traveler I claim to be. I waited to be the last person to board the plane.

I had forgotten about the most important part of overseas travel “Elbow Room”.  Elbow dominance can make the difference between success and failure. A middle seat without elbow dominance is like the middle east without oil…Useless.

Upon arrival to Hong Kong, I was consumed by an overpowering need to devour anything remotely edible.

I dwarfed any of Dixie’s most recent attempts at digestive stardom. I had a whole pizza, plate of noodles, Starbucks, then an insulin crash. I felt guilty before my food coma, after I felt revitalized.

When I arrive in Thailand, I transfer in planes Bangkok to Phuket.

After arriving in Phuket, I see a sign that says William Brown-Tiger Muay Thai. Immediately, I run to him, put my gear in his taxi and tell him “DRIVE.” With the inner knowledge that organization and booking rooms is not a Thai strong point.

Fortunately, I arrive to the hotel, get checked in, then I check out for a few hours.

I wake up the next morning, eat breakfast and argue with the hotel staff about the legitimacy of my room reservation.

At 9:00 AM my MMA ( Mixed Martial Art) training began.

I am a complete beginner to this entire world.

Most fights I had been in, consisted of me antagonizing someone, then pointing to a friend bigger than me to handle it.

By the time 10:00 rolls around, I am exhausted. I would rather have ran a marathon, then gone through that.

Mind you, at this point I have recieved a total of 1 hour of instruction. They then decide it is time for a grappling tournament.!

First up,
Paul vs. Canadian Girl.

This gal was about 21, 110 lbs. She told me her father was in the Canadian Special Forces. That is like being the best student at Delta High School. As I am about to wrestle this girl, I think to myself “This girl knows Jui-Jitsu, I am dead unless I get her on the gound first.” So bell rings and I spear her Sheldon Brown style.

I get off of her slowly, she is not moving. I think “What the HELL did I do?” I look behind me the instructor is nodding at me approvingly, then all of a sudden my neck gets grabbed and I am being choked from behind by this girls calves. Apparently, the instructors smile wasn’t intended for me. When I regain conciousness 10 guys are laughing their faces off, with two canadian girls trying desperately to revive me.

I like my ratio.

Next mission: Rent moped. As I am go through the rental process, the office lady asks for my passport.

“I’ll give you ‘California Passport’.” I tell her. 

She approves. This works for two reasons.

A. I have a new driver’s license in CA. This one expires in two weeks.
B. If I crash, get it stolen, or don’t have a ride to the airport. Problem Solved.

Mission Three, attend Muay Thai Training. I thouroughly enjoyed this because of the lack of scrotums in my face. MMA is cool, butnot that cool. Right off the bat I am singled outas a beginner and sent to the ring for “Techinique.” We learned a variety of punches, kicks, elbows and knees.

As I am listening to this guy, I start thinking to myself “I am having the worst case of Deja Vu”( or Rendevous as Utah would say).

“I have seen this guy before.”

The trainer was older (about 50), weathered, slow, deliberate.  

A Muay Thai master.

Everything from his tone to his body language was the Thai reincarnation of Max Monzo.

For those of you who don’t know Max Monzo, he works for Kay Dix.

He is the Mexican Don Corleone of Walnut Grove.

He might be in the mafia.

Max drives a 1969 Datsun with close to a million orchard miles.

My Muay Thai Instructor had the same strange ability the Max Monzo has the ability to project the idea that “I am the master and I can teach you.”

Then the instuctor turned around and his name was written on his shorts, “Kru Max.”

Translated instructor Max.

Weird.

The next day, I recieved private lessons from Max.

Afterwards, he introduced me to his 4 year old son.

Hilarity ensued.

His son looked like on of those kids you see on the commercials.

” For just ten cents a day you can feed this tiny boy.”

Fortunately for this kid, he was dirty by choice.

I asked his name. He replied, “Min.”

Min and Max.

Together they were speed limits.

Then, with perfect Muay Thai Technique, he kicked me in the shin.

Maybe it should have been,

“For then cents a you can train Min to be a High Speed Death Machine.”

Even though he attacked my shin, I felt a common bond with Min.

Min and I were both first borns not named after our father (Max Jr. was 2).

It’s like we came out of the womb and Sr. said “You are not
worthy.”

Next, I decide to take my moped for a ride.

I roll up to the Big Buddha
and decide to roll down to the tourist trap of Patong. Bad Idea. Patong is dirtier than a Las Vegas confessional booth.

Immediately, I get pulled over for being white and not wearing a helmet. 

The only way to ride a moped properly is with a White Bandana, iPod and Military issue Oakley’s

I agree the fine is justified and agree to pay, but they say “Follow me to Police Station” pronounced “Politician.”

The cop drives around the city aimlessly for about 20 minutes, with me following behind him.

Finally, we arrived to the Police Station (Pronounced: Politician) which is the size of a telephone booth and tinted on all sides

No way am I entering that thing, I have seen pornos that start out like this.

Did I say pornos, I mean horror movies.

I start making a scene, yelling, screaming shouting because to me this was the first sign of shady behavior.

Soon as I start making a scene, the cops ability to speak English went from Walnut Grove Farm Laborer to James Lipton.

Another Cop arrives on the scene and makes it clear to me “This time we go to Politician.”

As we are both pulling out on our scooters the cop, I get a healthy reminder. This reminder was a concept that I had been living my life by for the past few monthes and had produced enormous results. I asked to the heavens WWCWD? (What would Chiles Wilson do?)

The heavens replied, “Evade arrest.”

So I waited until the cop went through an intersectiion and I busted a hard left and floored it. I am now officially a Thai Outlaw and have the documentation to prove it.

Swadasee and Merry Christmas.