Mama and Papa Fung at Qigong Class

After a hiatus, my mom and my aunt decided to resume their Qigong classes. This time, they managed to drag their husbands along with them. When I asked mom how the classes went, she only said, "The master thought your dad was someone's dad! Because he looks so old! The master is actually older than your dad, but your dad walks around like an old man." My dad's side of the story was different, however:

Me: So how did Qigong class go?

Dad: Fine! You know how I've been doing Tai Chi for many years now? So the movement was pretty familiar. We were doing the exercises and the master said that out of everybody in the class, I have Neigong!

Me: Neigong?

Dad: You know what Neigong is? It means I have natural power that comes from within! Like in those old movies where the kung fu masters can make it rain! Hahaha!

Me: And what kind of power do you think you have?

Dad: Oh, you never know. When it comes out, it can take over the world by storm! Hahaha!

Me: Mom doesn't have Neigong?

Dad: No. You know the two sisters-- They just follow the rules but they don't know how to do it naturally.

Me: Mom didn't mention anything when I asked her how class went.

Dad: Well, she probably won't want to go to class anymore. She probably thinks the master doesn't know what he's talking about.

-----

Dad returned the phone to mom, so I decided to probe futher.

Me: So dad has Neigong, huh?

Mom: Well, he already had learned the foundations before.

Me: You don't believe the master when he says that dad has Neigong?

Mom: No way.

Me: How did uncle do?

Mom: The master said he had the best sitting position. I didn't. After sitting for a few minutes, my legs hurt so much I couldn't get up. 

END.

My Dad Wants a Nobel Prize in... Something

Phone conversation with my dad earlier this evening:

Me: Hey dad.

Dad: The Nobel Prize nominees are being announced this week. I'm waiting for my prize in Economics.

Me: Okay.

Dad: And if they call you for the Literature one, don't just tell them you're busy and hang up on them, okay?

Me: Haha, okay.

Dad: How's work?

Me: Good.

Dad: Busy?

Me: Always.

Dad: Are you going to protest in New York?

Me: I wish! I just don't have the time to make it over there right now. But I might get involved in the Boston ones.

Dad: Don't get into any trouble. Since you can't afford to get arrested, I'm sending mom out there to occupy Wall Street on your behalf.

END.

Fung My Life!

Explanation: Fung is my family's name. And yes, I got called Fungus when I was a kid. As did my brother and all of my cousins who share the same name. The only funny thing about it was the fact that every asswipe who pulled the joke thought that he was the first person to ever do so.

My dad, like his dad, is strangely proud of being a Fung. He always says, "The Fung gene is very dominant. And Fungs always insist on being a little bit different." I don't know if this is true or even what it means. Actually, I don't even think the name Fung means anything.

So perhaps that is my lot in life: To always have to decipher the wisdom of my family, all the while knowing that the rest of the world finds us rather ridiculous. And it is with that sentiment that I dedicate this blog. In some respects, this blog isn't so different from the others out there that exploit the crazy things immigrant parents say. But being a Fung means that I have to believe my family really is funnier than any other.

So here is the start of a series of posts that document shit the Fungs say and do. And if you don't like it, well, Fung you.