Progenirator X (Y)

I’ve been on a brief hiatus from the blog. “Brief” being 4 months or more. I’d like to be able to tell you that I have been polishing up the great american novel, working on a screenplay or curing cancer but since there are only 3 people who read this blog, and they all know me pretty well, you probably already know that these are all lies. Lies, I tell ya.

One thing I have been doing is making babies. It seems my sperm just can’t be stopped (especially when I don’t bother taking any precautions to stop them). Since Spawn #2 popped out, Wife and I have been loosely debating whether we were going to go for #3, and now it seems the discussion is over and for the past four months I’ve been spending most of my spare moments thinking things like “Wholly shit, our house is going to be loud!”, “I guess it’s time to schedule that vasectomy.” and “I hope they’re all good in school, because there’s no way I’ll ever afford college.”

You probably know that China has a one-child policy. This doesn’t effect me at all, since both my wife and I are dirty foreigners. We can pump out as many rugrats we can fit into our double-wide, and the Central Committee wouldn’t even think of forcing my sweet bride into a glorious state-supported back room abortion. However, one thing that being in China does effect is that the doctors can’t tell us the sex of the baby.

It’s very important to a lot of Chinese to have sons and pass on the family name.  Since China has a one-child policy, a lot of families, who find out that they have a fetus of the vaginal persuasion, were, until recently, faced with the possibility of their long family line fizzling out. So, to keep the unthinkable from happening, many women would get that potentially disastrous vaga-fetus scraped right out of them in the hopes that the future might bring a more penally robust fetus into their wombs.

The result of this sound practice that China will have around 40 million more marriage-aged men than women in the next 10 years. If you’re a woman (who happened to avoid being aborted), this is a pretty sweet situation.  You’ll have plenty of choices in your search for someone to make your own fetuses with.  But the fact that there will be more than 40 million lonely, horny dudes roaming around the countryside within the next few years makes me want to get my 2 daughters out of here before they hit puberty.

I digress.  The point I was trying to make is that because so many people here seem abortion crazy if their genetic coin flip ends up tails (pun not intended, but still appreciated), China put in a policy forbidding doctors from telling parents the sex of the baby.  This makes sense to me.  It’s a horrific practice that is causing a fairly large social problem.  Keeping doctors from telling parents the sex seems a small price to pay if it solves the problem.  But as a foreigner, of course I’d like to be exempt for any local laws that I find inconvenient.  After all, I have  two wonderful daughters who I loves very much, and are long past aborting age.  Neither my wife or I are Chinese citizens.  I thought, surely, they’d tell us.  As someone who can’t see a gift with my name on it without peeking under the wrapping, I had no intention of waiting until next Summer to find out what was under the tree, so I encouraged Wife to beg, cajole and bribe the doctor, but nope.  No special treatment for us.

Just as I was about to accept that there was no way to weasel my way into my Wife’s womb to take a sonogram-enhanced peek at my kid’s privates, I remembered that we were all spending Xmas in S. Korea with some very close friends of ours.  An appointment was set up, and  one plane ride, one car ride, 35 bucks and 30 minutes in the waiting room later, I was told we are having a boy.  The doctor even drew a circle around it, drew and arrow to said circle and wrote “penis” on the sonogram print out, so either it’s a boy or she’s got a superfluous appendage.

I’m so curious about how this is going to change the atmosphere  in our house.  Right now, with two girls, it’s all squeals, giggles and drawing on each other’s faces with crayons and saying it’s “make up”.  I wonder how much chaos a boy is going to bring into the mix.

If he’s anything like I was as a boy, probably a lot.

In writing news:

There’s nothing solid to tell, but I did get a very exciting email from an agent’s assistant at one of the largest talent agencies in Los Angeles.   A buddy of mine made the intro and I sent in a spec script a few months ago.  In early Dec. she sent an extremely flattering email back.  I won’t give details because I’m sure it will jinx it, but I’ve read the thing a couple hundred times since receiving it and it still brings a smile to my face every time.

What does it actually mean?  Maybe nothing…maybe everything.  Her boss (big shot Hollywood agent) has been told about me and my spec script and it’s on his reading list.  I’ve also been asked for, and given, other examples of my work.  So, everyone keep your fingers crossed for little Hinesy.

In other news:

I’m taking the Foreign Service test again on Feb 11th.  Wish me luck.  But wish me more luck on the script.  Diplomats are cool and all, but they can’t work in their underwear like a writer can.

Published in: on January 6, 2012 at 5:38 am  Comments (2)