. In 2010, I packed my life into
“
There’s something metaphorical about the move from “F.O.B.” to “fob.” A fob, after all, is a length of chain tied to a watch, allowing you to readily draw it forth; it’s an omnipresent link to something precious — something that always tells you what time it is.
And, conscious or not, that’s the vision of immigrant parents depicted in Teresa and Serena Wu’s sites: Frank, sweet, special fob. Loyal, loving, giving fob. The tie that binds us and reminds us. An organic — or should I say, “okeni” — connection to a culture only half our own.
”This gives me the warm and fuzzies.
Notes
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