Cracking the Fortune Cookie

"Talk to me, cookie."

Each week, I find myself at the Chan An Chinese restaurant suffering from a serious General Tso craving. And each week, I crack open a fortune cookie and read its post-lunch message.

No, let me rephrase that. I crack open a fortune cookie... read its post-lunch message... and then promptly forget about it, leaving said fortune on the desk by my computer.

Where it sits. And accumulates with other fortunes. Where they have a caucus, and talk about things like Confucianism. And the Lucky Numbers of the Day. And the Cantonese word for "fish." And tricks of the trade like that.

I wasn't buying their jive the first time around, of course. But now, taken as one collective, overall Mega-Fortune, I'd say they break down into three basic categories:

• Vague Predictions
• Vague Predictions With Metaphors
• Advice from Mom

Vague Predictions:
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Your dream will come true."

Really? Which dream? I mean, I'd like to know. The one where I get a major exciting book deal? The one where I go to dinner with Johnny Depp, Will Snow and John Corbett, and I somehow lose my shoes and hope no one will notice?

Or the one where vampire zombies start chasing me around an old warehouse which eventually turns into my elementary school, and then I don't know where my classes are, and I'm late, and still the zombies follow but they don't have the class schedule, either, because I ask them, and...

Well, which one, O Cookie? It does make a difference. Footwear is at stake here!

Or how about:

You will soon meet the person you admire.

And once again, the cookie is delicious and crisp, but light on the details. I mean, I admire a lot of people:

One of my friends' dads for his kind-hearted patience....

Screenwriter William Goldman for his ability to transfer books effectively to the screen-- while Stephen King only thinks he can...

Mother Theresa for her charitable efforts...

And the Dyson Vacuum Cleaner guy for single-minded devotion to 'never loses suction' vacuum cleaner technology... Just to name a few!

But the cookie, the cookie doesn't care. The cookie just tosses out its vagaries, looking for some schlump, some maroon, who'll give it an easy out and make the fortune fit for it. But that's baked goods these days, I guess. They want all the credit, but none of the responsibility.


Vague Predictions With Metaphors:
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"The wheel of good fortune is finally turning in your direction."

and

"Doors are opening for you in many areas of your life."

So we've got wheels and doors now. And gosh, with all these opportunities headed my way, I imagine pretty soon I'm not going to even have time for fortune cookies. I'll be too busy wheeling, dealing and door-opening!

Of course, what good fortune is headed my way, and which areas of my life, the cookie is strangely mum about. I guess there's only so much space on that slip of fortune paper to dish the dirt. Sort of like Twitter, or a Classifieds Ad. You work in what you can with a limited number of characters.


Advice from Mom:
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The third category of fortune cookie messages seems to think we'll be so wow-ed by its sage advice, we won't even notice that it hasn't given a fortune at all.

This is the type of fortune that has our best interests at heart. It wants to make us a better person. And it's a bit abrupt in its style of expressing itself.

This fortune might as well be from Mom. The advice you didn't want. Contradictory messaging. A little bit pushy.

"Be careful! Bees with honey in their mouths have stings in their tails."

Yes, yes, Mom, I know-- he couldn't possibly like me for me, blah, blah, blah...

"Take advantage of your great imagination. It will serve you well."

Well, gee, Mom, thanks! I'm touched. You know, I really appreciate this uncharacteristic show of support for my work, and--

"Be tactful: overlook not your own opportunity."

Okay, I mean I wasn't trying to be rude, Mom, I just--

"The successful man waits for no one; the lazy man waits forever."

Well, gosh, I mean, I've got two blogs and a full time job and--

"Those who make excuses, find little reward."

I wasn't trying to make excuses, I was just explaining--

"Be patient in one moment of anger and escape a hundred days of sorrow."

I didn't think I was being especially impatient with you, but you're sorta getting on my n--

"Those who stand up straight today, will not go crooked tomorrow."

Are you still on about my posture, Mom? Geez Louise, you've been nagging me about that since I was eight-frikkin'-years-old!--

"A filthy mouth will not utter decent language."

What?! I wouldn't even qualify that as swearing! I'm just really starting to get frustrated now and--

"Hair that follows the trends, follows fools."

Are you kidding me? Hair comments now? I'll have you know, I happen to like my hair just the way it is, and--

"Wait-- you have something on your face. Let me just get that."

I'm outta here!

(PS--Have a great weekend, folks!!)

--------------------------------------------------------------
Vote for Of Cabbages and Kings at Humor-blogs. Or click here to visit the folks at Humorbloggers.com.

"A freely-given vote is like a crane in flight-- uplifting."

Who in the Hunan is General Tso?

I popped into Chan An for a bite of hot lunch, and ordered my fav-- General Tso's chicken. The pretty, delicate young lady behind the counter took my order. Then shouted back to the cook in Chinese with a bellow that cracked the plaster.

It's always surprising, that bellow. Especially to new customers. I watch people give her their order, and then wait for 'em to jump in the air and cling to the ceiling fan as she blasts out the good word on their dish.

I like it. Helping people off the ceiling fan gives me something to do while I wait for my food.

So, as I gave nice Mrs. Johnston a leg down from the rafters, it occurred to me. "Who IS General Tso, and why am I eating his chicken?"

I had never considered this before. Possibly because it had just seemed perfectly right. Colonel Sanders... General Tso...

Military status + crispy chicken = yum

It seemed to span cultures.

So while I enjoyed delicious crispy chicken back at the office, I did some in-depth research...

NO, not Wikipedia. Hey, I'm serious about my research and believe in using solid sources. (Also, that was later.)

I went to the Encyclopedia Britannica, a reputable publication where the entry is unlikely to have been written by someone with the username "TsoFanNumeroUno." And Britannica tells us that the man who inspired the dish was none other than Tso Tsung-t'ang. Also known as "Zuo Zongtang."

"Steve" to his buds.

Truthfully, the entry was pretty dry. Unlike that sweet, sweet chicken. So to hold your interest, I'm going to take some liberties and paraphrase here.

And you kiddies out there writing reseach reports using just whatever internet site you find as your sources? You'll want to copy this all down word-for-word and turn it into your teachers as-is. Your teachers will love it. And will probably share your work with all their colleagues in the teacher's lounge.

It'll be a learning experience for everyone.

Okay, back to General Tso. General Tso didn't start out his career a general. Yes, he started out as simply Tso, a guy born into "a well-connected, scholarly family." So basically tenured university professors with a good pension plan.

He passed his preliminary civil service exams, and concentrated on farming studies and geography. This means he was more or less a desk-jockey at the Hsiang-yin Department of Agriculture.

Then in 1850, the Taiping Rebellion began to spread through South China. And so like "Sean of the Dead" only without the zombies, Tso realized he had to take action. He organized the local defenses to rise up and protect the region. And because folks who mattered were still alive when the dust cleared, they said, "Tso, we really like your style."

For his good work, he became one of the top imperial commanders, and eventually Governor-General of Chekian and Fukien.

This made him VERY big in China. Big enough to hold press conferences and everything.

Soon, his role expanded to governor-general of Sheshi and Kansu, because there were Muslim rebels that need quashing, and Tso had proven his mad skilz in the quashing arena.

How'd he do this? Well, remember, Tso had started his career as a civil servant. And what do civil servants like to do most?

Why, slap down some hefty taxes, that's what! So he taxed these people. And he also encouraged economic production, and introduced Western technology. I'm guessing it probably had something to do with an automated online tax collection system, but Britannica doesn't go into the details.

And to finance his troops? Tso put them to work in their spare time, growing grain and cotton. Because, you know, they were on the clock, anyway, and there weren't unions then.

But, Tso kept it going. Stopping a rebellion here, a rebellion there. By 1881, he was this old, blind guy who just wanted to retire, get his gold watch and his office party with cake. You know give a couple of slurred and tearful speeches after putting away too many Tsingtaos.

But they government wouldn't let him. He was sent off to South China to defend the country against the French. And that's where he died.

So where does the chicken come in? Well, that's an interesting story in itself. See, every time Tso would go up against a new group of rebels, the rebel fighters would underestimate his tactical abilities because he'd started out as a mid-level office executive. And so to boost the rebel morale, they'd all chorus, "General Tso's chicken! General Tso's chicken!"

Of course, they were defeated every time. Which is why General Tso's chicken is not only sweet, for the sweet victory he enjoyed, but spicy, because his tactics had an unexpected kick.

And if you believe that, I have a chunk of Great Wall to sell ya.


--------------------------------------------------
The offices at Humor-blogs are filled with empty Chinese food containers. I know it.