I was thinking today about a couple of the people that I have met along this trip I am on. You meet some odd creatures out here, and we postulate that they are running to something or running from something. Even some of those that you think are included in that group have come to that conclusion, which makes you wonder if they look at you and are glancing behind and ahead.

One of the most eccentric I have met, and I have been told I am eccentric as well, is a guy named Jerry. It may be spelled with a G, as I saw his email and both letters were in it, and it dawned on me I didn't really know which was which, I just knew how it sounded.

I met Jerry one afternoon on a bus to Gongju. I was traveling to a conference at a Language Institute. The conference was to begin the next morning, and I figured that the bus that left the next morning would be lucky if it got there on time, so I figured a little adventure was in order, jumped on a bus the night before, and hoped to have enough rest so that the opening day was not too stressful.

Thankfully, the bus was damn near empty, and sitting all the way in the back was Jerry. As he saw me near the back, he asked if I was going to the conference, so I made my way back that direction, and after a little thought, sat in the same row as him, on the other side of the bus. The back of the bus is four seats wide, so we had room. He looked a little different, certainly the look of a traveler, but with cowboy boots and the cuffs of his jeans tucked in the top. As he spoke, he sounded Australian or New Zealand and it turned out to be the latter.

Not far down the road, he brought up some things, I don't remember what in particular now, but some odd things, as if in his mind he'd made some big leap in the conversation. We would eventually find it come back to center, but occassionally, it made me wonder just what was rolling through this guy's mind. We actually had a damned good conversation on the way to Gongju, and it took a while, because it was middle of winter, the roads positively sucked, and like the way I get to things, it wasn't exactly a straight line to our destination.

Off the bus, we decided to immediately find some accomodations. I had never stayed in a "Love Motel" as they are called in Korea. Small hotels (or at least often small), that used to provide one basic service. A room to rent while you fucked. They didn't give shit one who you were fucking, as long as they got paid. Usually, it was hookers, as they have little table tents advertising numbers to call, but I am certain, just as often it was a couple wanting to get their groove on. Lucky dogs. Regardless, as we headed into the motel district right by the bus station, i said, "How 'bout this one?" To which Jerry said, "Yea, that might be an okay one, maybe 40,000 won." We went in, he asked for 2 rooms (thank god), and it was only 30,000 won. We took the elevator to our floor, and it was plush. Even the hallways look like they were made of brushed oak. I was pleasantly surprised when I checked my room and my bathroom turned out to be larger than my whole apartment in Seosan. Other than the Hello Kitty bedspread or whatever the fuck it was, it was definately righteous.

After checking in, we went walking around Gonju, and ended up at a German themed place that turned out to be pretty great. Jerry insisted on buying everything which i thought was odd, but it was a portent of things to come.

The next day, we got up, met in the hall, walked to a Family Mart, got some breakfast, and headed to the conference. Once everyone else showed up and the conference was in full swing, I didn't see much of Jerry except for one evening when he, Tom Johnson, and I snuck out to get a couple beers and smuggle some back in for some of the girls, and even then, Jerry insisted on paying once again. Just like in Penthouse Forum, Jerry disappeared and I never saw him again.

Until late January. My friend Brian came to Korea to see me. This was excellent for me because it was like going home without going home. Having someone that knows me very well come here is fantastic. It gives me a chance to vacation a little, and at the same time, it gives someone I know well an idea of just what exactly I am doing over here...though I sometimes wonder myself.

Brian and I stayed at the Grand Hilton Seoul, (God bless you Brian), and after a couple days of running around in and catching nasty colds, we stopped in for some beer and Jagermeister, and ended up playing darts at a place called the 3 Alley Pub in Itaewon. Pretty excellent place if you ask me...friendly staff, inexpensive prices..and fun darts...and I'll be damned...Jerry.

As I finished taking a leak in between dart rounds, I was zipping up when a guy walked up to the urinal next to me and said something. The voice sounded familiar but I didn't recognize it at first...I looked to say something in response as I backed away, and wow..."Jerry?" "Ah, hell, yea man, good to see you!" he said bringing his hand up from the depths and then immediately followed with, "Ah gimme a minute, I just grabbed my cock." I told him we were out playing darts and to join us. I figured it was the perfect opportunity for Brian to meet some of the more quirky people I had run into.

While Jerry did prove to be just that, he also proved to be quite genuine, and even more, once again, free with his money, which is fantastic, but unsettling. We drank a couple beers, I was finally able to buy him one, and then we told him we were going back to the Hilton to have a good meal at the Buffet Resauarant. He asked if he could tag along as he was "Celebrating" something. I figured it was a free country, so out we went.

The cab ride proved to be somewhat challenging for both a couple bladders, and for our minds to grasp the fact that Jerry would pop into odd thoughts at the drop of a hat. How absolutely beautiful Michelle Obama was and what a lucky man the President was to have her, followed by some obscure date through history. He then began rambling about how he took random numbers he saw on the street, be it a sign or a license plate, and then tried to associate events in history with these numbers. Spewing number after number in rapid order, asking us, then answering his own question before we could say anything, we began to think he had crossed a wire somewhere along the way.

Then he said something about the 50,000 won bill he'd been looking at as he held it up to see the watermark for the last five minutes; the bill twisting and turning over and over in his fingers while he rambled dates, how beautiful the money was, and did you know they made money out of plastic in Australia.

"This bill is for whomever can tell me what happened in 1688?" Jerry said. ""The Glorious Revolution" Brian chimed in immediately. Brian was a history major in college and was perhaps concentrating on his stretching bladder for most of the questions, but he knew this one right off, and Jerry threw the bill back at him to much protest. Jerry insisted he keep it, and on top of it, he paid the 20,000 won cab fare.

We then got to the hotel, put on our best duds, and then went down and ate the best buffet in the world, or at least in the parts of the world we have been to. Even Brian, who has been to Vegas many times, said the buffet was right up there with the best he'd ever seen. The first night, they had chunks of lobster, shucked and chilled, salmon, the most succulent kimchi pork I have ever had, lamb chops, prime rib,...everything...it was amazing.

After dinner, we sached over tot he lounge and watched as a beautiful Korean woman sang covers of lounge songs, and her accompaniast, a piano player even sang some Elton John. They were fantastic, and she kept glancing at me and smiling...I was on cloud nine. We talked, and Jerry's sense of humor sprang to life and at times we laughed in our little corner of the world until we thought our sides would split. It was soon to come to an end, Jerry grabbing his backpack and hitting the road. He said he was done in Korea after 9 years or better, and a bunch in Japan as well. I hope where ever he is, Jerry is doing well. As quirky as he was and is, he certainly was some good shit, he was just one of those people you'd never know, unless you were forced into conversation. Sometimes, that happens, and it turns out for the worst, but he turned out to be a really nice and genuine person. I still laugh, over one of the last things he'd said.

"What do you call a pig with wings?" answering himself quickly like he did with most of his rhetorical-non-rhetorical questions. "Linda McCartney."