GURU, 1966-2010.

Ben Ali, who opened my favorite restaurant in the world – Ben’s Chili Bowl – passed away last night. When I lived a few blocks away, I used to this joint up late night at least every other week. Toward the end of my time in DC, I started heading up to grab lunch from Ben’s too.

It wasn’t just that the food was so magnificent, but that the vibe there was so welcoming. It was always packed, but somehow there was always a table free. It had the best jukebox in DC, and if you needed to tell someone how to get there, you could just say “Walk down U Street until you see bright lights and a line of people out the door.”

The man was a giant and will be missed. What was so great too was that nobody got treated special there – except Bill Cosby. Even this guy had to wait in line:

You could see him almost every morning going on a walk through Chinatown with his sister – he was just dedicated to the neighborhood his entire life. He passed away yesterday at the age of 90. Click here to read his obituary from the Boston Globe.

Also, check out this fun video from a few years back of him telling the story of growing up in Chinatown, being surrounded by bootleggers!

Ten years ago today, Joseph Ileto was murdered by a white supremacist while delivering mail in Southern California.

Sometimes, it’s hard to trace the impact of any monumental event on one person’s life. But it may be easier for me in this case, for reasons I’ll explain here.

Ten years ago today I was in my final week as an intern at the Organization of Chinese Americans (OCA) in Washington, DC. In general, that experience was life-changing for many reasons, but to put it very succinctly, I learned we are never alone. (If you want to talk more about this, holla via email.)

So on Tuesday of my final week in the office, we were kind of just goofing off all day. (I honestly remember it was a Tuesday, without having to look it up.) And I remember hearing the news that a Filipino American postal worker had been shot and killed as part of a racist shooting rampage. It definitely shattered the loose vibe we were cultivating there, and as we learned more details, I prepared myself to draft the agency’s public response. (Of the six interns in the office that summer, I had established my niche as the one who wanted to write press releases and such.)

And as I sat at the computer, facing something so much more serious than I wanted to be facing at that time, a sense of purpose overcame me. Over the previous 9 weeks, I had felt so supported and loved by people I met from across the country, from different campuses that I had never been to; I was new to this world, I had no plans beyond that summer, whereas a lot of other interns were mapping out law school or their careers. I was – for lack of a better phrase – a scrub compared to all of them. And during this time, I had learned that no matter how unsupported or beaten down I felt, there was always going to be hundreds of others feeling that same way, fighting the same fights. And that even if I never met them, they were my support. I would never have to meet them, I’d just have to believe they existed.

And so typing out the date on that blank Microsoft Word document, I felt that I could return some of that love and support to Joseph and his family. This was bound to be my final real work of the summer, I should put everything I had into it. And I truly did, I can relive that moment like it happened yesterday. I remember typing the gunman’s name (which I still remember but won’t type here) and thinking his name sounded like a white supremacist’s name, all awkward consonant sounds and long vowels jumping on each other. The day is still one of the most vivid days in my memory. (more…)

When I was 6 or 7, my dad bought a cassette tape at the mall while we waited for my mom and sister. We sat in the Cutlass and grooved to it.

Come on and do the love dance…

Around that same age, I watched the Jackson 5 cartoon on Saturday mornings. There was an episode where they were drafted into the Army and I think they ran away when they wanted to shave their Afros. There was something about peeling potatoes.

His hair caught fire shooting a commercial.

I’d cover my eyes when I went to my friend Tufu’s house because his sister had a “Thriller” poster on her door and the zombies scared me. The video did more than scare me; I feel like it taught me how to be afraid.

He invited Stevie Wonder, Cyndi Lauper, and Dan Akroyd (?) and others to record the greatest song ever in history. Looking back, it’s still really impressive.

A few years later, “Bad” came out in stores. Wesley Snipes was in the video, and I was surprised that Michael was playing a high school student. Prince said Michael called it “Bad” because “Terrible” wouldn’t fit on the album cover.

I fell in love with the girl in the music video for “The Way You Make Me Feel.” But even at 10 years old, I knew “Moonwalker” made no sense.

I’m gonna make a change for once in my life…

I grew older. Michael’s videos were on after “In Living Color” for some reason. He smashed a car. He yelled. He touched his crotch from outside his black jeans. It was on CNN.

There was a video with Michael Jordan, Heavy D, and Kris Kross. Michael (not Jordan) drop-kicked a basketball backwards into a hoop. Seriously.

Naomi Campbell. If the phrase “FTW” had existed then, I would have said it.

“Remember the Time” had a goofy video. But the song made me wish I was 25 so I could understand it. Now I understand it and almost wish I didn’t.

“An American Dream” – a mini-series about the Jacksons – aired on ABC. Vanessa Williams played Suzanne What’shername. Freddy Boom Boom played Joe Jackson. Angela Basset played Mom (and Betty Shabazz the same year) – and Boyz II Men played bullies from the neighborhood. I identified with Michael. His only friend as a kid was a mouse.

“Human Nature” was sampled on Illmatic.

I have a skin disorder…

Jacko molested kids. Did he? Yeah he definitely did. No he didn’t. I bet he did. No. No he’s a target. No, he’s just sick.

There was a marriage to Elvis’s daughter; that was unexpected. They divorced; that was expected.

Then a double album. New stuff and old stuff. All of it was great. People made a big deal over the fact that like a million dollars were spent making the music video for “Scream” – the duet with Janet. But the video was cool, and that song was not recognized for the instant classic it should have been.

Who is Debbie Rowe? So are his kids white or black? I’m sorry, did he just name his son Prince?

You rock my world…

We were all reminded that parents on balconies shouldn’t hold their children on said balcony. More accusations. Chris Rock said he showed up to court looking like Cap’N Crunch. He danced on top of a car; he didn’t seem entirely well.

I set “PYT” as the ringtone on my cell phone when my wife calls. And only my wife.

He danced with N*SYNC at some award show. People made pedophile jokes.

He said he slept with young kids. He said it on tape. He said he just wanted to share love. He may have been lying; he may have been telling the whole truth.

He moved to Dubai. He went bankrupt. He said he meant to book 2 shows in London, not 50.

He had a heart attack. He died.

None of these memories are facts i looked up on the Internet. These are just the things I remember. And I could stay here another two hours and not run out of more things I remember. Who’s Annie? Flirting with his sister in the video with Paul McCartney. White socks. Sidewalk lighting up underfoot. Yeah he starred in a video game too. Is that him singing backup for Rockwell? He poked fun at himself in Men in Black 2. My aunt said “look at the way he spins!” and I looked.

He was a headline and a punchline his whole life. We all remember.

But there’s so much we forget. Like when he was no older than 10, how could he pack so much pain into his voice? Whooooo’s loooooooving youuuuuuu. How could any ten-year-old understand heartache and loneliness like that? Or was he just channeling all the hurt he’d feel over the next four decades?

Did he spend his whole adult life trying to find a childhood?

Michael Jackson was far from perfect. As flawed as any other human being is. Maybe more so.

But he was still a human being. So let’s just honor that and give him a chance to finally get some peace.

Never can say goodbye, no no no.

Richard Aoki, 1938-2009

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As the San Diego Asian Film Festival closed its first leg this week, and the Boston Asian American Film Festival kicks off tonight, I do want to take a minute to remember one of the VIPs on the scene.

I moved to Washington DC in 2000, a month after finishing college because I knew I had to leave Boston behind to grow as a person. I lined up a very low-paying job on the civil rights scene and packed up the U-Haul. Arriving Wednesday night and starting work Thursday morning, I had close to no friends. I mean, I had friends, but not those who i developed on my own. It was all co-workers, other civil rights scenesters, and such and such.

A big part of me regretted leaving my family, and I battled homesickness by drinking heavily. I also gained about 10 pounds that summer. But it wasn’t all destructive behavior; I also caught wind of a group of people starting up an Asian American film festival in DC, and I decided to at least attend a meeting to see what was up. (It was college when I developed a love of writing and performing, but also filmmaking. I even made two short movies…which both…uh, no longer exist I hope.)

The guy leading the meeting was George Lin, a very unassuming but friendly guy who had dreamed up the DC APA Film Festival with a buddy one day and simply turned it into a reality. There was no self-doubt in this guy, he very strongly believed in his own abilities and those of the people around him to simply not get caught up in bull. George knew more than anyone that if you wanted to make it happen…shoot, you could just make it happen. George gave me a ride home that night, and in fact many nights after, as it seemed everyone else lived in Virginia while I was the only one in DC. George lived in Maryland, so he was stuck with the job of getting the little kid home safely. He was always a calming presence and capable of giving others strength without them knowing it. (I specifically remember his pep-talk to me on Election Night 2000 before dropping me off at my apartment.)

I was heavily involved with APA Film that year, and it was a great welcome to DC. APA Film, and in particular George, helped me think larger than my own just-out-of-college world. It was actually the opening night ceremony that I started down the road to an actual career as a spoken word performer; before that, it was just a hobby. (Another story for another time perhaps.)

That initial experience with George and APA Film, helped me feel I could actually follow through on bringing ideas to fruition. Some attempts have been less successful than others, but I never lost the nerve to take the first step. During my time in DC, I was a part of many nascent groups from the failed (APAREN) to the successful (DCAPJ) to the legendary (TLC – I see yall!). By 2002, I was thinking about what it would take to create a collective to support Asian American and Pacific Islander community-based artists in the DC area, but life intervened, and I ended up back in Boston.

And within a month of my return, we held the first ever Boston Progress Arts Collective meeting. And look at us now, still going strong – in fact, stronger – 6 years later. And without exaggeration, BPAC’s very existence was inspired by the work George put in to making his little idea a reality.

To nobody’s and everybody’s surprise, George left his job as a military scientist in 2003 and moved to San Diego to chase his dream of being more involved with not only showcasing, but producing films. His position as Programming Director at SDAFF made him a legitimate “bigshot” (haha) and helped draw more people into his world, no doubt making their lives that much brighter. His passion for our communities and for supporting arts and artists culminated in his co-producing the film Before We Close.

My unofficial tagline for any project nowadays is “we are only limited by our imagination.” George wasn’t the only person who exemplified this mindset, but he was probably the best at it. For many of us, thinking outside the box means thinking ourselves into another box. But George could leave and return to the box as often as he wanted, and always be wearing that same expression, that looked like it could break into full smile at any time. And every time, he would enthusiastically tell you where he had just been, and how he couldn’t wait to go back.

George passed away a few days ago at the age of 37 after a two decade long battle with illness. Rest in power bro.

In lieu of flowers and gifts, the family requests that charitable donations be made to The George C. Lin Memorial Fund established by his family which will provide grants to institutions that provide scholarships to students studying film, and for pheochromocytoma research and education. Please send checks to The San Diego Foundation, 2508 Historic Decatur Rd. Ste. 200, San Diego, CA 92106. Please write the name of the fund, The George C. Lin Memorial Fund, on the memo line of the check.