divertissement bis

...and we're back. Hope you enjoyed the previous batch of photos, even if you have no idea who the hell these people are. In this post, we cover some more Hominidalia. Let's start off with the French connection.

My first-ever trip to France was in the summer of 1986. I was between my junior and senior years in high school, and though I'd had four years of French at that point, I had a rude awakening at Charles de Gaulle Airport: academic French isn't worth a steaming poodle turd on a Parisian sidewalk when you're trying to speak actual French in France. Somehow I managed to struggle from the airport to the train, scared out of my wits as I realized I couldn't form even the most basic "Qu'est-ce que"-type question. I made it to Nantes and was greeted by the Ducoulombier family, which at the time consisted only of Maman, Papa, François, Damien, Xavier, and Dominique. All sons. Dominique was a year younger than I, way the hell more athletic (still true), and a quick study at chess, which I taught him. My month in France passed quickly; I spent ten days on a farm in Cherbourg, learned a bit about French pop, and felt my French improve by leaps and bounds.

Fast-forward to this year. I'm still fluent in French, though no longer near-native proficient. Dominique married the gorgeous Véronique, and now they have three children. Here's Domi with his second child (and only son), Augustin, nicknamed Auguste:





I asked them to make faces.

Now: this is Domi with his latest work of art. Her name is Héloïse. She could have been my goddaughter, but for practical reasons Domi decided someone else needed to be godfather. Someone actually residing in France. Understandable. I've been asked to be her godfather in spirit.





Next, we have a pic of Domi and his family. The guy sitting with them is Domi's friend Arnaud, who came over to visit (after a long drive from Nantes in the west; Domi now lives in the Alsace-Lorraine region, near Colmar, not far from Switzerland). He turned out to be great with kids. Here we see Domi and Auguste on the left. Véro is in the top center; Arnaud and Domi's eldest child, his daughter Joséphine, are on the right. José is adorable; Auguste is cute, but he's also a terror. He loves hitting people and throwing things, and has obviously inherited his father's athletic ability and boundless physical energy. José can also go nuts on occasion, but she tends to be more studious and focused in demeanor-- what you'd generally expect of an eldest child with only parents for role models. Hélo was barely past fetal stage last year when I saw her, so I had no read on her character. If she's anything like Domi, himself a lastborn, she'll be extremely relaxed about life, somewhat forgetful about where she's put things, and something of a showoff.

Here they are, en famille:





Joséphine insisted on posing for her own picture after I'd snapped a couple of Auguste while he was playing soccer in Dominique's backyard. She's going to be a heartbreaker later in life-- you can tell already:





And to close off the France section, here's a shot of Véronique and Héloïse. Lovely ladies. Just one more reason why I might hate French politics, but can never call France "the enemy."





Let's move on to Korea.

The following is a pic from 2000, when I was in Korea for a two-week trip (this was when I spent three days at Haein-sa). This is my #3 Adjumma (i.e., the wife of my mother's third-eldest cousin). She's loud, bossy, and financially astute-- a typical Korean adjumma, in other words, but my personal favoriate. She also speaks her mind and can't stand some of the other wives, which is why you'll never see her in pictures of family gatherings. She and her husband represent the Christian wing of our family. Presbyterian, of course. Here she is:





Below, we have a picture of a family gathering. These are most of my Korean relatives, along with another plump and juicy half-Korean who's trying to blend in-- and is failing miserably (notice that, in the wedding picture, this same person failed to blend in with an all-white crowd as well). I won't name all the relatives for you, but need to note one person. Sitting on the couch, second from the right, is my cousin Joon-yeol, who died in late 2001 of complications from surgical procedures related to leukemia. He was barely 20 when he died. His father isn't in the picture, but his mom is: she's the middle lady, my #4 Adjumma.





Shifting back to America now...

You've probably been dying to meet the Maximum Leader. Well, as his Poet Laureate, it's my duty to show him off in the best light possible, so I've chosen this Martha Stewart-approved Wholesome Family Pic as the best one for the job.





I've known Mike since the third grade. We disagree about a lot of things, but somehow we've always gotten along. I suspect it's because we agree on certain important things, though I could be wrong. Mike, the Air Marshal and I have complementary interests; Mike brings his history and philosophy background to our discussions; the AM brings his Den Beste-like engineering background; and I bring my steaming pile of religion.

My beautiful goddaughter Rachael is in the pink dress; her sister Emma (the Air Marshal's goddaughter) is sandwiched between Rachael and the ML. The lovely and talented Mrs. Villain completes the picture, and the gestalt gives you a clue of how much estrogen the Maximum Leader has to contend with every day.

UPDATE: Pic removed at the request of the Maximum Leader, so I've posted a pic of the Maximum Leader, all by himself, in its place.

So now you must be wondering: What does a Hominidal family look like?

Well, this is my Dad on the day I graduated from CUA:





That serious pose belies a man with an extremely cheerful disposition, a positive outlook on life, and a military man's studied appreciation for gross jokes. He works for the dreaded Northwest Airlines (having served time in air cargo and on the front lines as the friendliest ticket agent you'll ever meet), is an EMT, and is also a fan of Civil War and Vietnam War studies, hobbies to which he would like to devote more time. He loves Korean food, but alas, like so many white folks accustomed to bland fare, he can't eat it too spicy. Jjigae is rarely on the menu for Dadso.

We had to give Dad my cap for the following shot:





Dad the grad.

Next up is my brother David. Here he is:





If he looks like he's about to play a prank on you, he probably is. I've been awakened from many late mornings by the powerful stench of this boy's farts, and just because he's now 27 doesn't mean he's stopped figuring out new ways to deliver his gaseous payload.

David's an aspiring actor. If you're a headhunter, ignore the fart comments. I know David reads this blog; I expect he's going to kick my ass when he finds out what I've written, so don't be surprised if this gets, uh, edited.

Here are Dad and David on a hike up to Williams Lake at Taos Ski Valley, Taos, NM:





And the same two dudes on the Maid of the Mist at Viagara Falls:





On that same boat was Mom:





And here she is again, at CUA:





You'll never know a better cook, or a better judge of people.

Here's the whole Hominid brood at the Rio Grande Gorge-- the same gorge over which Oliver Stone filmed a scene in his Disney family flick, "Natural Born Killers":





This is my cello-playing brother Sean, pre-Atkins Diet (he's also in the above family shot, again, pre-Atkins):





Sean was my size, even though he's ten years younger. Like me, he wore XXL shirts and pants.

But here's Sean now:





Sean now wears medium-sized clothing. He'll even steal from Dad's old clothing (to Dad's occasional chagrin).

Sean also has the gift of tongues:





Haw haw.

And in Northern Virginia, you should know my parents' house is guarded by none other than the Dark One Himself:




Unfortunately, Satan considers smashed minivan windows to be beneath his unholy attention.

And finally, some pics of the resident blogger.

A collage to give you an impressionistic taste of the flesh-eating monstrosity that is the Hominid:





And another:





And now, I demonstrate why the ladies occasionally do a double-take:





And in this picture, I proudly display a total lack of martial prowess (half-remembered taekwondo), yet manage to kick my own head clean off:





I've appeared in several porn films dressed in the following manner:





But no one ever cut me any eyeholes, which is why my porn name was Dick Blindworm.

And lastly, rest assured that I watch over my flock:





Here endeth the peep show. Now back to our regularly scheduled assholery.
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