Cincinnati, Ohio

I was born in Taipei, Taiwan. I came to America as a baby. To Alexandria, VA. We didn’t spend too much time there as my sisters, my folks and I moved shortly to Erlanger, Kentucky. That’s where my Dad opened up a Chinese restaurant with his friend. The place was a converted saloon. It had an upstairs where some of the employees hung out. It was a really cool place. All wood with brick exterior. It was also next to a U-Totem. This was a convenient store that rivaled 7-11. I loved the U-Totem, because that’s where the candy was. We spent maybe a few years there. It was awesome. You’d think people in Kentucky were redneck racist. But I have to tell you, they are FAR from it. They were the kindest, friendliest people I can remember. Southern hospitality was alive and well in 1982. Surprising since there was such a terrible reputation for being narrow-minded. This is so untrue. I think there is a reason why you don’t see too many people from Kentucky out here in Los Angeles. Why would you wanna leave that unbridled kindness.

Years later I did return deep into Kentucky. As far as Louisville. A wonderful town despite its unfortunate economic state.

In second grade we made our way to Cincinnati. The really tough town of Pleasant Ridge. It was about 80% African-American. This is where the southern hospitality ended. And I learned to fight. I got into a fight practically everyday. I stuck out like a sore thumb. Hated every second there. I remember walking to school with a girl named Amber, whose drunk father had pressed her ear against a hot range. She never said anything, but I heard later from her brother. They were the first mulatto kids I’ve ever seen. They were really great to me. Amber was big. Broad shoulders, really tough and scarred. She probably spent a lot of the time learning to defend herself against her father. She took my side on almost everything. When the black kids would attack me, she’d be the first to pry them off of me. It was totally street. By the way, an occasional ass beating actually is good for you. I think nowadays people would call the cops. In 1982, cops would laugh at you. School wasn’t any better. You had to learn to defend yourself. In fact, most of the time, they encourage you figure it out. We left Pleasant Ridge in 1983. The town now has been reclaimed by hipsters. It’s mind boggling knowing the streets where I use to scrap is now where skinny jeans, vinyl listeners go to hang out and talk music.

I love Cincinnati. Everyone from it remembers it. It really is in your blood. I consider it my hometown. I go back every once in a while and revisit my old stomping grounds. The heavily German Irish community is tight knit. And really friendly. It’s growing faster than I want it to. In my neighborhood, there use to be wooded areas where a kid could explore and disappear for a day. It’s beautiful quiet bike trails. Out here in Los Angeles, it is all man made. It breaks my heart that that bike trail is now a memory. The woods are where a kid could learn the basics in life. We built fires, small makeshift shelters. We hid out from parents. This was at a time when you would go out all day, and your parents never worries. Crime was so far away. It was also a time when kids would take care of other kids. I had so many brothers and sisters I didn’t even know I had. That’s the way it was in Cincinnati. Skin color was only apparent, when someone from “the big city” visited and reminded us there was a big city out there that didn’t like you for that reason.

We’re such proud people in the Midwest. People in Cincinnati do their research. If you’ve made it beyond the walls, there is no hate. They still embrace the prodigal sons. It makes you want to make the city proud. Spielberg was born there. Doris Day, Rosemary, Nick and George Clooney, Carmen Electra, Nick Lachey, Sarah Jessica Parker, Tyrone Power, Julie Haggerty. We’re all so proud of every one of them who’ve made Cincy even a small part of their lives. When I go back home, I do have moments where I talk to the locals. They live, work and dream in that city. They are properly self-effacing of their lot in life. They are constantly curious of who I am and always start with “wow, it must be so cool to be in Los Angeles.” To which I have to remind them that I consider Cincinnati my hometown. To which they reply “why?” We have a good laugh. The city gets in your blood. The people are proud. I like seeing the new younger generation that is coming up. So full of dreams. Maybe some of them will want to go out to the world. I can guarantee you now…they will always consider Cincinnati home.