December 27, 2007
Korean Pirate Disco Christmas!
On the corner of Wilshire Blvd. and New Hampshire, near the nebulous frontier where Koreatown gives way to Central Americaville, there’s a big black office building. On the second floor of this building is Language Systems International, a mid-sized ESL institute where I teach Reading, Vocabulary and Business English to a collection of Portuguese and Peruvians, as well as assorted Thais and Turks. On the first floor of this building is The Crazy Hook, a pirate-themed Korean restaurant and sports bar.
When I say that The Crazy Hook is “Korean,” I do not refer to the food but to the owners, clientèle and language of the menu. The Hook’s cuisine is largely standard Americana: nachos, ribs, potatoes au gratin, pork cutlet, although all of the aforementioned must be consumed using chopsticks, washed down with your choice of Michelob beer or shots of soju. I was given the opportunity to sample this fare and also the unique atmosphere in which they were presented at LSI’s recent staff Christmas party, conveniently hosted by its downstairs neighbor.
Just how crazy is The Crazy Hook? Crazy enough to play frenetic Japanese pop covers of holiday classics? Yes, precisely that crazy. If you’ve never heard Frosty the Snowman trilled incoherently over manic disco beats, I suggest you brush up on your J-Pop carols. Then, I suggest you gouge out your eardrums with a flathead screwdriver. Still, nothing gets me more feeling more festive than blaring absurdist electronica.
Nothing, that is, except pirates.
Now, I’m of the opinion that our culture has milked just about every last drop of comic nectar from the enduring fad of pirate camp and that our nation’s half-ironic fascination with the cartoonish sea thieves, who long ago faded from funny to merely cute, is quickly reaching critical levels of annoying. However, The Crazy Hook tries so pathetically hard to be campy that the sheer lameness of the effort actually elevates it to levels of meta-camp.
Were the Pirates of the Caribbean mannequins that greet you as soon as you walk in the door bought at a Disneyland garage sale or are they carefully crafted replicas of the dummy sea dogs that appear on the ride? Which explanation in funnier? In any case, I’d have to be pretty jaded not to at least crack a smile at the only English words on the menu: “Crazy Hook Power!”