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A new flavor to our life
A new toy
I was eight years old when our neighbours across the hall got a television. It was very small and very expensive, but that didn’t matter. It was wonderful. Everyone in the building came up to the fifth floor to see this latest wonder of the modern world. Some people, the lucky ones, stayed for a while and got to watch a whole program. That was in 1948.
Soon a lot of people got new television, but not us. My parents didn’t like television. They didn’t think it was good for children. Being a good, docile son, I didn’t argue with them. But I did secretly watch television --- at my friends’ homes.
By 1955, television weren’t so expensive and they were much larger. My parents still thought television wasn’t good for us, but my sisters insisted. They said we were the only people in the neighbourhood who didn’t have one. All their friends talked about certain programs and actors, but my sisters couldn’t. Their friends laughed at them, and my sisters felt wretched, very unhappy.
One day, my youngest sister came from school and started to cry. She said she was never going back to school and that life without a television wasn’t worth living. She cried and sobbed. My parents’ usual arguments only made her more inconsolable. Nothing they said made her feel any better. Well, what could they do?
The next morning, without telling us, my parents went out and got a new TV. That afternoon an antenna was put on the roof. Suzanne came home from school and ran into the house.
“Where is it? Where is it?” she cried. “I knew it’s here.” She was breathless, and her eyes were shiny with excitement.
“It’s in the living room,” my mother said as my sister ran off to look at, to admire, this beautiful thing called a television.
Later, I asked her, “How did you know the TV was here?”
“The antenna. Now our house looks like everyone else’s.”
She has a wonderful smile on her face.
When we were young our parents allowed us to watch TV two hours a night. Oh, yes. And we couldn’t watch until our homework was finished. But after a year or two, TV wasn’t exciting or new anymore. It became just another part of our lives, like shoes or soap. My parents still had fears about TV. We were going to forget how to read, they said. And we were not going to read books because watching TV was easier, they said. And TV was going to fill our minds with violence, they said. They said lots of things like that --- once a day at least. I disagreed with them. I thought they were old-fashioned, thinking too much of old ways and ideas.
Today, people still argue about the value of TV. Nobody can deny the power of TV. It has an enormous, a very powerful, influence on our lives. On the average, Americans spend 30 hours a week watching TV. Is this influence good or bad? This is an unanswerable question indeed: It is hard enough to measure influence; and it is even harder to decide what is good and what isn’t. What is good, I suppose, is that many people are concerned about TV’s influence and that we have the power to change what we don’t like.
Recently, I read an article in the newspaper about the people of Monhegan Island, 18 kilometers off the coast of Maine. These people don’t have electricity, and they decided, once again, that they liked it that way. Only a handful of people live there during the long winter, and they live without electricity --- by choice. Electricity, they think, would make things too easy and spoil their way of life. Maybe the young people wouldn’t want to go to town dances anymore. Maybe they would be more interested in staying home and watching television.
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If I had only three days to live

If I had only three days to live, what would I do? Surely I wouldn’t cry or complain because it’s of no use. Instead, I would be very glad to know when I will die, so that I can plan the days well.
The First Day
Today is a very sunny day. I get up in the early morning, take out all my money from the bank and go to the nearest beach, because I like to have a last look at the sea.
The sea is so calm and tranquil, as if nothing would happen. The wind is so fresh that it can refresh my heart. Some seagulls are struggling to the sky in a backdrop of azure. It is a very quiet beach. No one disturbs me. I walk along the beach, let the sand flow on my feet, and then cover them. The tide comes and goes, high and low, like the fate of my twenty years in this world. I walk until I am very tired. Then I sit down and wait for the stars to come out.
The sky is jeweled with stars. The entire world is dark except the stars. The sea is so clear at night that it seems that there are two heavens: one is on the top, and the other is at the bottom. It is the most beautiful scene in the world, a very nice melody with the glittering stars. I gradually fall asleep, feeling no cold or pain. I open my eyes when the first gleams of the dawn come out. The fiery sun comes out from the place where the paradise is located. Sparkles come out from the distant place and spread out. They cover the ocean and the macrocosm. It is a very exciting view. It can wake the sleeping world up, and summon up a dead man’s soul. Breeze blows across the ground, and fondles my mind. I decide to leave this Arcadia and go back home to see my parents.
The Second Day
I go home after I have bought some vegetables, some fruits and some beef. I will make an excellent meal for my parents. I cannot recollect when I did this last time; maybe it was very long ago. When I was a child, I enjoyed watching my mother cook. I cannot cook very delicious dishes like my mother. But I want to please them; they are my only family in my life, in this world. I love them more than my life. But I am such an unfilial son that I always let my Mum do all the housework and let my Dad be so tired. They gave birth to me, brought me up, gave me the best education and told me how to live to be a man. Their teaching will always stay in my mind. I am sad to see that their hair has become grayish.
It certainly isn’t a delicious meal, but we have it with great relish. We used to turn on the TV and watch the news when having meals, but today we talk. We talk about my childhood, our happiness and pain. Mum says I was so naughty that one time I had my head collide with a wall. My head broke and bled. I cried until she arrived. And the first thing I asked her was “Am I going to be an idiot or not, Mum?” That was very funny, wasn’t it? Another time, Dad had an argument with me because he told me to practice my violin but I didn’t do that. And then when I came back from outside, I saw him burning something. At that time, I thought he was burning my violin and I rushed to stop him. It turned out he was burning some old paper. My parents also talked about their love story. I have never known that they had such a romantic story since they have never celebrated their anniversary. After the lunch, I wash the dishes. I seldom cook a meal and wash the dishes before. And it is a pity that it is my last time to do it now. Then Dad makes tea for us. I always said his tea was strange and bitter, but this time I have tasted the most fragrant tea in my time.
In the afternoon, we have nothing to do. So I suggest going to the cinema. I have never been to the cinema with them. This must be the first time and also the last time. I choose a comedy because I don’t want to leave with their tears. The film is very funny. I smile a lot, not because of the movie but because I see them laugh. It’s very pleasant and pleasing to see your closest relatives happy. I have never seen Dad laugh like that. He is very busy with his job. When he comes home late at night, he is always very tired and then he will go to sleep quickly. I see the wrinkles on his face. He has turned old. I still can recollect his young and handsome face in the photo. He laughs so much that his tears have come out. I want to tell him that I have always loved and respected him even though sometimes we have different points of view. And it is the same with Mum. I love her though I seldom buy a carnation for her on Mother’s Day. I hate myself, but I have no time to make up for it. All that I am able to do is to love them as much as I can in my days.
The night comes. I was always afraid of dark. I remember that when I was very young, if I slept between Mum and Dad, I would fall asleep very quickly and peacefully. Tonight I will do that again even though I am taller than my mother and as tall as my father and the bed isn’t big enough. But I am scared. I am afraid of dark. I am afraid of leaving them. I am afraid of death. No, I am not afraid of death, but afraid of their despair. I am their only son. I don’t want to hurt them with my leaving. I will love them forever, for my life time, for my next lifetime and next to the next lifetime until the end of the world. I cannot sleep, but watch them asleep. Father has a very loud snore but it’s melodious. And Mother is sound asleep. I cry all the night until I am tired. Parents are the dearest people in a man’s life. It’s true, absolutely true.
The Third Day
I don’t want to die in front of my parents. So I choose the quietest way to leave. I leave a letter to them, then call all my friends and say good-bye to them. Friendship is important even though I haven’t got many friends. I ask them to remember me so that I can live in their memories.
After that, I take out my diary. It collects years of my memories. It’s very interesting to recall the past happenings in this way. I can remember each day, each scene, like the film shown in my brain. One of my diaries says I once got a very good mark in a maths exam. I can still remember the joy of victory. But most of the diaries are about my experiences with basketball. I started to play this game when I was fifteen years old. And from then on I have fallen in love with it. I love it as much as I love myself and love my parents.
“He is so tall and gives me a block…”--- April 16, 1998.
“I am very glad that I could touch the basket when I shot. The feeling was like flying to the sky…”---June 4, 1999.
I have never loved a girl in my lifetime. Some people say that is the most pitiful thing. But I don’t think so. Basketball is my lifetime lover. I don’t know why I love playing basketball. But I know I feel free, I can fly, and I can be myself when I play it. I remember the hardest time in my life was on the basketball court. The largest victory I made was on the basketball court. My most heartbroken tears dropped on the basketball court.
“I hate myself. We lost the game because my last shot was out…I didn’t want to leave there. I wanted the last shot back again…I was not a loser. I could beat them down…”
“I shot all night in the heavy rain. That night I had more than 200 shots.”
“I got a bad cold, terrible…but nothing can stop me…”---July 20, 1999.
Playing basketball is the best thing of my life. It makes me a man. It shows me what sturdiness is. It tells me I am not a weak man because of my iron volition. I can cover a distance of 20,000 meters in two hours. I can get more than 300 shots in one morning. I can lift up a weight three times heavier than me. My motto is “Consider every day is the last day, then you’ll do things without regret.” I think that is what I am going to do.
I take my basketball and go to the court. I want to fly again. I will play until the dawn breaks, until the death comes, until my last breath blows out, until the last bit of oxygen in my body is used up.
The fairy says the man dies with a star falling down. And I will be the brightest star in the sky to bless and protect my parents, my friends, and all the children who love playing basketball like me.
I will die a peaceful death, with one hand holding a basketball, and the other hand with a picture of my family.
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The dragon boat festival


“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times… we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way.” It was likely that Qu Yuan might have felt similar to what Charles Dickens wrote at the beginning of his A Tale of Two Cities over 2000 years later. Though today not many people care how Qu Yuan felt when he jumped into the Miluo River, his name is remembered through the passage of history. In the appetizing smell of Zongzi and the cheers and drumbeats in the Dragon Boat racing, Qu Yuan is commemorated on the fifth day of the fifth lunar month every year, which is also called the Dragon Boat Festival.
For Qu Yuan, the farsighted statesman and patriotic romantic poet in the Warring States, the chaotic times were the age of foolishness, the epoch of incredulity, the season of Darkness, and the winter of despair. His nation, Chu, encountered domestic political corruption as well as the threat from the powerful Qin, which developed rapidly by annexing one nation after another. Qu Yuan insistently warned the king of Chu of its internal and external dangers, reminding the king of Chu to avoid conflicts with Qin and putting forward a series of reform policies. Yet his proposals were ignored, and he was sent into exile around Miluo due to the slander of some corrupt officials. In 278BC when he heard the news that Chu had been defeated and annexed by Qin, he committed suicide by drowning himself in Miluo River. Leaving a poem “Huai Sha” to express his disappointment and indignation towards the incompetent authority and the turbulent times, he ended his life with the downfall of his nation.
When the news of his death reached the common people of Chu, they set out by boat to the centre of Miluo, desperately vying with each other in searching for his body. Meanwhile they threw rice dumplings containing meat, fruit and other fillings into the river, hoping that the fish would eat the food instead of the body of their beloved patriotic poet. The head of the boat was also decorated with a “Heavenly Dragon” to frighten the fish. Qu Yuan’s body was never found, but the custom of eating the food, later called Zongzi, and the Dragon Boat racing on the fifth day of the fifth lunar month have been handed down, which is said to be the day when Qu Yuan committed suicide.
Today Dragon Boat race has become a sports event emphasizing teamwork and unity. The Dragon Boat, as it is called, featuring the traditional symbol of a Heavenly Dragon on its head and tail, is usually painted red, green and other bright colors. Before a new Dragon enters a competition, it has to undergo a sacred ceremony “light the eyes”, in which the craftsman paints the eyes of the Dragon. The length of the boat varies; the longest can hold up to eighty men. As soon as the race begins, the boats head forward swiftly like arrows leaving bows. Every boat carries a drummer beating the drum to boost morale, and the cheers of the audience on the river bank add to the impetus.
While the participation of Dragon Boat race involves only the competitors and their audiences, eating Zongzi, the pyramid-shaped glutinous dumplings wrapped in leaves, is another observation enjoyed by every one. A diversity of flavors has been developed with the passage of time, in which regional difference exerts a slight influence. Generally speaking people in the north have dates in their Zongzi which therefore tastes sweet, whereas people in the south prefer savory ones mixed with soybeans and meat. Nuts, mushroom, red beans and other fillings also create different flavors. In some places, following the tradition, Zongzi are still thrown into the river on Dragon Boat Festival, but most people feed themselves rather than the fish. Nowadays people tend to be more concerned about food culture than about history, feeling the traditional festival through their taste buds.
The worst of times for Qu Yuan has gone for good, yet the traditions are preserved through thousands of years. On this special day people enjoy their best times, and history remembers his name.