“I am Male-KAD hear me roar.”
Johnny Shitbird might make you think, “Who the hell is this guy,
and what does he have to do with this blog, and is that really his
1. I’m Johnny Fucking Shitbird (more on this later and yeah,
I use a lot of parenthesis).
2. I’m a male KAD. . .duh.
3. It really isn’t but it really is.
Confused? Good. I like to keep things off balance. The world isn’t in balance and you shouldn’t live with the expectations, or the bold assumption that it is, or you’ll fall flat on your face if you haven’t already.
I was adopted from Seoul (that’s Seoul, South Korea in case you didn’t know) at the ripe old age of 387 days after being unceremoniously dumped on the front steps of a Seoul police station with nothing, but some clothes and a paper taped to me with my name and birthday scrawled on it. Yeah, I don’t sugar coat shit, so if you don’t like it, move on now….there’s no complaint department that I’m aware of. I arrived at my new family at Los Angeles International Airport on Christmas Eve 1976. The next morning, I found myself in Fremont, California in what would in less than a decade, be Silicon Valley. The transition from Sung Kyu Yang (or is it Yang Sung Kyu? My lack of Korean culture prevents me from even knowing how to write my own fucking name down right) to Johnny Shitbird had thus taken flight.
That Christmas Day in 1976, I was now named John Darren Alt. I had what most would refer to as a typical childhood (for anyone not adopted from Korea) there in Fremont. Before this goes one word further. . . I have the most awesome fucking parents in the world, and I would walk through the fire for them, and them for me – let’s just get that out of the way right meow, OK? Even back then, the SF Bay Area was a melting pot of different cultures, different backgrounds, etc. . .way ahead of its time. The Bay Area is an incredibly special place and the East Bay especially (the East Bay is referred to as such because San Francisco natives always used to make it a point that we were the East Bay because the East Bay is where most of the blue collar families in the Bay Area were back then – not as fortunate, not as affluent) runs in my blood regardless of where in the world my crazy life may take me, and really helped shape who I am today. 41 Christmases, 41 birthdays, 2 near (less than 12 hours near) death experiences and the most batshit crazy events later, I am Johnny Shitbird – punk rocker and decade long North American Korean Adoptee Expat living in Costa Rica.
I like loud music, quiet music, long walks on the beach, eating, cooking, guitar, bass……………………….
I mean seriously. If you want to read some fucking life bios, join a dating site. If you want MY fucking life bio, read the stories in my blog. WTF bearing on your life do my interests, hobbies, etc. etc. have if it’s just a laundry list of crap without any reference to mine, or more importantly, your life?
After stumbling onto a Korean Adoptee social media group, it really got me thinking as to what other KADs might have to offer about their own experiences and if they paralleled mine at all. I was pretty shocked to find there was a shit ton of vitriol, anger, angst, and above all self-hatred that really overwhelmed just about anything positive a member of the group might have posted. Sure, I’ve had all of those feelings (and still do to this day on occasion) in the past, but what struck me was how the weight of these feelings seemed to be, or have already dominated a lot of these people to the point of despair and even suicide. Since I was new to the group, I figured, “Hey, this was someone just having a bad day,” but 2 years later it’s really rare that a day passes where I don’t see AT LEAST one of those posts on there.
I was about to just disassociate myself from the group when I saw this blog. It really got me thinking that Derek and Kori were right. There really wasn’t anyone speaking on the male KAD experience and especially not trying to promote any type of positive spin on it. I mean, the closest I had to a support system of those sharing common experiences, when I was a kid, was a group of KADs who got together in high school to hang out, drink Kool Aid, (not the kind with the fun stuff in it either) and pretty much just twiddle our fingers, cause let’s face it: a bunch of zitty high school freshman in 1989 aren’t gonna start opening up about the meaning of their lives much less what the fucking weather was like that day.
So, I figured I’d try my hand at this writing thing. I kinda wish I would have had a blog like this to read when I was younger, and maybe someone would be interested in hearing some of the crazy shit that has shaped me into who I am today. Maybe, I would not have masturbated so much. Who knows. I hope you take a laugh, a tear, a lesson, a “fuck this guy” . . . anything out of what I have to say.
Thank you for shopping and please come again.
12:40am May 4th, 2018
Dominical Beach, Costa Rica
“The common man doesn’t suffer pain like this.
Only the soul that has never been kissed.
Let us adore our beautiful son,
he’s ridin’ on the River of Babylon.
Bootin’ up, shootin’ up bring on the brightness.
See the son of god is comin’ up and I see a likeness.
Internalize the lunacy of the misery is showin’
When you’re brought up you’re caught up in a system that’s goin’
Will someone be a witness please tell me that he’s crazy.
But he’s not and they know that, and they can’t get him ‘cause he’s not crazy.
Beat lock him knock him take him away his authority,
Hit ’em, ship ’em, club ’em submitted conformity.”
Rancid – Junkie Man
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