Englewood Cliffs, NJ

I mentioned before I have some funky karma that has me reacting unhealthily negatively to doing good things for other people. I think I'm getting better at it. I always think of doing the right thing, and when I see opportunities for doing something for someone else, I at least consider it before thinking the better of not doing it.

Several weeks ago, I was leaving my bike in the safety of the Taida campus because I was leaving for Kaohsiung the next day and was going to be gone for a week. Just after I locked my bike and was walking to the bus stop, I saw a guy struggling with two bicycles. I thought of offering to help, but I was still a bit distance away, an awkward distance to run up to him randomly to offer to help.

He wasn't making much headway like that, though, and by the time he finally toppled over completely, I was reasonably close enough to jog up and help him up and offered (in Mandarin!) to help him take the bike where he needed to go, and it turned out fine because he was just taking the bike to another place on campus which was in the direction I was heading.

It was just a short distance, but he was thankful since with two bikes it was much longer. We chatted in Mandarin, and then when we got to where he needed to go, I headed off whistling on my merry way.

With my luck, I just helped the guy steal the bike :p

In New York today, taking the A Train down to 42nd Street there was a South Asian woman with an infant in a stroller. I noted them because the baby was really adorable. They also got off at 42nd Street. As I looked for the exit to the 7 line, I turned around and saw the woman struggling up a flight of stairs backwards, lugging the stroller up step by step. That was a no-brainer to quickly go over and help them up the stairs.

I accomplished that with no feelings of self-disgust, and I'm reasonably sure I didn't help that lady steal the baby. I helped someone out and I didn't have to feel disgusted at feeling like I did something good. It was no big deal, it was just the right thing to do, let it go.

And then the missed opportunities.

Last night, I was over at my brother's place for dinner. He lives in a tower block in Fort Lee, with panoramic views of the Hudson River, George Washington Bridge, the surrounding Fort Lee area and its traffic. I knew that my parents had gone down to Edgewater for dinner and grocery shopping.

While at my brother's place, apparently a tree fell down somewhere and knocked down a power line. We could see from his apartment the traffic mess that ensued and covered the entire area, especially the road leading up from Edgewater.

I wondered aloud whether or not to try calling our parents to see if they were in the mess, and whether we could help direct them out. We didn't, and they were, and I found out later it took them two hours to get home. If I had called, I could have told them what was going on and directed them to turn around and find another way back.

The reason I was in New York today was to get an entry permit for my Taiwanese passport (I don't have an ID number, so I need a special permit to enter Taiwan, even though it's a Taiwanese passport). After I got it, I stopped in at Pax for a slice of pizza, the likes of which we can't get in Taiwan, btw. As I was leaving, a woman was also leaving. She had just bought a slice of some luxurious, expensive veggie pizza. She looked a bit smug and self-satisfied with it, and I couldn't blame her. It was pretty darn good pizza.

I didn't notice her again until entering the 42nd Street subway station, when she was suddenly right there in front of me, balancing the pizza which was on a paper plate while fumbling for her metro card. Suddenly the pizza was on the ground and I heard sounds of frustration and anger, and I walked past, a little embarrassed and feeling sorry for her.

I knew exactly how she felt. Just that morning at my parents' house, I was taking a container of noodles to the microwave when it slipped out of my hand and ended up on the floor. It was a lost cause. I don't know what's been on my parents' floor or when the last time it was cleaned. All I could do was dejectedly clean it up and throw it away. Wasted food.

When the pizza hit the ground, I didn't think about the noodles hitting the ground and the connection between them. By the time I made the connection, I was already on the uptown A, and it was only then that I realized, in an ideal configuration of my personality, suave and debonair, what I should've done.

I should have stopped, turned around, walked back to her and said, "Excuse me, ma'am, could you do me a favor? Could you walk back with me to Pax where I can buy you another slice of pizza? I can explain why on the way. Are you in a rush? Come on, let's go, come on.

"You see, the same thing happened to me this morning (at this point I mysteriously take on a New York accent – De Niro or Harvey Keitel maybe), I was walking to the microwave with a container of shrimp lo mein, and then suddenly, boom, it was on the floor. I was really pissed. I was pissed at the waste and my clumsiness.

"I thought of all the effort that all sorts of people put into preparing my food, the shrimp that gave their lives, the fisherman, the noodle makers, the farmers who grew the vegetables, the cooks, all the way down to my parents who bought the noodles and were stuck in traffic for two hours getting home with them. I kid you not.

"When I saw you drop your pizza, I thought about what happened to me this morning, and I remembered feeling pissed and guilty, and I thought it would really make me feel a whole lot better if I were to do some positive gesture, create some positive energy, by buying you another slice of pizza, no strings attached, just a selfless, goodwill gesture that I wouldn't even expect thanks for, but hopefully you'd feel better about it, too."

But I didn't. Just in my head.

1:19 p.m.