Originally published in The Groove, May 2007
by Tracey Stark
Every so often a new “healthy living” trend will come along and sweep people up in a frenzy. While most of these fads die a rather rapid death, some manage to stick around because of the hard work of marketing geniuses.
Think of all those useless contraptions sold on late-night television designed to give you the “ultimate workout.” Most households have one or two of these things in a closet somewhere or perhaps being used to prop open a door.
Oxygen bars popped up in cities all over the world a few years back. Then, when people realized that they were already surrounded by oxygen, they stopped paying $20 to sit in a room designed for breathing.
The same can be said for diets. Low-carb, no-carb, high-fat, all-fruit, all-popcorn, all-bacon, no-taste, the list goes on. And as with every other trend, they have come and gone, replaced by the next big thing.
Then, in 2003, a private economic think tank in Korea advised companies that the new “well-being” trend was going to be big. It was even chosen as the management keyword for 2004.
In the beginning, this trend seemed to be based on the consumer’s best interests. Foods with all-natural ingredients were being marketed more. New healthy drinks and negative-ion air purifiers popped up everywhere.
But then, somewhere along the way, something went terribly wrong. Products began appearing, seemingly out of nowhere, touting their “well-beingness” when the relationship was tenuous at best.
I first noticed it more than a year ago when a new restaurant was going up in my neighborhood. The sign in front of the construction site said the diner was going to be called, simply, “Well Being.” Hopeful that it would be a vegetarian restaurant where I could take my then-girlfriend (now wife), I was anxious for its opening.
Within a month the restaurant opened and I excitedly ran up to the window to read the menu. The main dish at this shop was samgyeopsal (basically chunks of pork that are about half meat and half fat). Plastered on some of the walls inside were posters promoting soju, Korea’s favorite liquor. To say I was confused is a bit of an understatement.
As time went on, more examples of this well-being bizarro world appeared. Newspaper were writing stories and promoting goods like well-being refrigerators, well-being cell phones and even well being sneakers for old people. We used to call these shoes “orthopedic.” But I guess you can’t expect to keep pace wearing a pair of orthopedic shoes.
It all came to a head for me last year when the Doosan beverage company introduced a well-being soju. It contains 20 percent alcohol, versus the normal 25 percent alcohol content. By promoting booze as “well being”, they more than doubled their market share. It started to make sense to me. Apparently, it’s all about the money.
And it gets better. An editorial in a local English language newspaper written by a foreigner living in Seoul sounded frighteningly like ad copy for a cigarette company. In it, the author describes her discovery of a new low-tar version of her favorite smokes, designed, she said, in the spirit of the well-being trend with the health of the consumer in mind.
“It being winter, and feeling especially "fresh" from my Pilates workout and two-hour visit to the local sauna, I decided to try the menthol variety…” she writes. Her blather about this particular brand of cancer stick continues: "…it took amazingly little time to adjust, and after several weeks, I’m already feeling the benefits of smoking a lighter cigarette, not just physically but mentally as well, for having taken yet another step towards a better, brighter me."
Still, my favorite is of a business owned by a former friend of my wife. He decided it would make sense to call his new enterprise “Well Being Concrete Co.”
But, as I’ve pointed out already, all good things must come to an end. So, in order to promote a smooth transition to the next commercially-viable trend, I am going to suggest a replacement for the “well-being” fad: “Psychiatry.”
Think of the possibilities.
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
Monday, May 14, 2007
Chiro with a twist
Originally published in Seoul magazine, May 2007
By Tracey Stark
The mere mention of a chiropractor causes some people to cringe from remembered stories they’ve heard about a “friend of a friend” who had to go once a week for the rest of his life to get his neck and back cracked and crunched all for the sake of “proper alignment.” For this guy, a week missed meant a week of agony.
But Dr. Phillip Yoo (or Dr. Phil to his patients), the founder of the ChiroPilates method, is quick to dispel that myth of dependence on chiropractic treatment.
“Some chiropractors focus on pain care, they don’t treat the cause of the pain,” Yoo says. “If I wanted to have people just come in week after week, why would I try to teach them how to prevent the pain and take care of themselves?”
That’s where ChiroPilates comes into play. It’s a combination of chiropractic therapy and Pilates, one of the most popular fitness methods in the United States, which incorporates flexibility training, strength training of the core muscles (the muscles around the midsection) and correction of the posture. One of the main advantages of Pilates is that it can be practiced with very little equipment and, like yoga, has many basic exercises requiring only a mat.
While Yoo believes Pilates is a good system on its own, he notes that many people suffer injuries while practicing Pilates because a lot of instructors don’t understand the human anatomy.
“It’s not like aerobics. Pilates is about technique and body awareness,” Yoo says, which is why he limits his class size.
His Itaewon, Seoul sports medicine clinic has room for about six ChiroPilates students at a time and also offers therapeutic massage, fitness training and, of course, chiropractic care.
He’s even coined a phrase to describe the purpose of ChiroPilates: “To strengthen and flexen.” This, he says, means to workout in order to increase a healthy range of motion for your joints and spine and lengthen core muscles to assist in maintaining a normal posture.
“Only about 20 percent of people have good posture and exercise regularly, while 80 percent suffer from some kind of musculoskeletal disorder or pain.”
The American-born doctor, who is also a certified personal trainer and certified meridian therapy acupuncturist, believes that many conditions can benefit from chiropractic care.
He gives headaches as an example.
“A headache isn’t a brain ache. The brain itself can’t feel pain,” Yoo says. “But it’s the pain-sensitive structures in the skull, such as the web of nerves emanating from the back of the skull and the first few vertebrae of the neck which control things like sinus function and eyesight. When these vertebrae are out of alignment, the nerves are often squeezed, pulled, compressed or otherwise irritated, causing headaches.”
And so it goes down the rest of the spine. When the spine is out of line, things like digestion or strength can be affected. The main purposes of the nerves are to sense pain, temperature and touch, control motor function and reflexes and control organ function.
“Taking an aspirin may help relieve the pain temporarily, but it won’t fix the structural problem and the pain will return,” he says.
According to Yoo, the Chinese belief in chi translates in chiropractic medicine as “the body’s innate ability to heal itself.” It’s about the flow of energy which, Yoo says, is really the messages being sent by the brain via the nerves to the rest of the body. Block the flow of these messages through a misaligned spine and you effectively block your body’s ability to self-heal.
When spring returns, many people hit the trail or the court and find themselves in agony the next day. This is because they’ve failed to maintain a higher level of fitness over the winter months and returned to their warm-weather pursuits without the proper preparation. As a result, Yoo says, spring is his busiest time of year.
“People are afraid of chiropractic therapy because they want a quick fix,” Yoo explains. “But if you want to stay in shape do you go to the gym only one time?” he asks.
After a while, Yoo insists, his clients learn how to prevent their pain and maintain a proper posture. “Follow-up visits are really just for a tune-up.”
His commitment to removing the barrier between himself and his patients can be seen in his insistence on being called “Dr. Phil” and through developing and offering his ChiroPilates method. This leads to better communication and trust, which leads to real healing.
“The word doctor doesn’t mean God, it means teacher,” Yoo says. “A lot of doctors forget that."
By Tracey Stark
The mere mention of a chiropractor causes some people to cringe from remembered stories they’ve heard about a “friend of a friend” who had to go once a week for the rest of his life to get his neck and back cracked and crunched all for the sake of “proper alignment.” For this guy, a week missed meant a week of agony.
But Dr. Phillip Yoo (or Dr. Phil to his patients), the founder of the ChiroPilates method, is quick to dispel that myth of dependence on chiropractic treatment.
“Some chiropractors focus on pain care, they don’t treat the cause of the pain,” Yoo says. “If I wanted to have people just come in week after week, why would I try to teach them how to prevent the pain and take care of themselves?”
That’s where ChiroPilates comes into play. It’s a combination of chiropractic therapy and Pilates, one of the most popular fitness methods in the United States, which incorporates flexibility training, strength training of the core muscles (the muscles around the midsection) and correction of the posture. One of the main advantages of Pilates is that it can be practiced with very little equipment and, like yoga, has many basic exercises requiring only a mat.
While Yoo believes Pilates is a good system on its own, he notes that many people suffer injuries while practicing Pilates because a lot of instructors don’t understand the human anatomy.
“It’s not like aerobics. Pilates is about technique and body awareness,” Yoo says, which is why he limits his class size.
His Itaewon, Seoul sports medicine clinic has room for about six ChiroPilates students at a time and also offers therapeutic massage, fitness training and, of course, chiropractic care.
He’s even coined a phrase to describe the purpose of ChiroPilates: “To strengthen and flexen.” This, he says, means to workout in order to increase a healthy range of motion for your joints and spine and lengthen core muscles to assist in maintaining a normal posture.
“Only about 20 percent of people have good posture and exercise regularly, while 80 percent suffer from some kind of musculoskeletal disorder or pain.”
The American-born doctor, who is also a certified personal trainer and certified meridian therapy acupuncturist, believes that many conditions can benefit from chiropractic care.
He gives headaches as an example.
“A headache isn’t a brain ache. The brain itself can’t feel pain,” Yoo says. “But it’s the pain-sensitive structures in the skull, such as the web of nerves emanating from the back of the skull and the first few vertebrae of the neck which control things like sinus function and eyesight. When these vertebrae are out of alignment, the nerves are often squeezed, pulled, compressed or otherwise irritated, causing headaches.”
And so it goes down the rest of the spine. When the spine is out of line, things like digestion or strength can be affected. The main purposes of the nerves are to sense pain, temperature and touch, control motor function and reflexes and control organ function.
“Taking an aspirin may help relieve the pain temporarily, but it won’t fix the structural problem and the pain will return,” he says.
According to Yoo, the Chinese belief in chi translates in chiropractic medicine as “the body’s innate ability to heal itself.” It’s about the flow of energy which, Yoo says, is really the messages being sent by the brain via the nerves to the rest of the body. Block the flow of these messages through a misaligned spine and you effectively block your body’s ability to self-heal.
When spring returns, many people hit the trail or the court and find themselves in agony the next day. This is because they’ve failed to maintain a higher level of fitness over the winter months and returned to their warm-weather pursuits without the proper preparation. As a result, Yoo says, spring is his busiest time of year.
“People are afraid of chiropractic therapy because they want a quick fix,” Yoo explains. “But if you want to stay in shape do you go to the gym only one time?” he asks.
After a while, Yoo insists, his clients learn how to prevent their pain and maintain a proper posture. “Follow-up visits are really just for a tune-up.”
His commitment to removing the barrier between himself and his patients can be seen in his insistence on being called “Dr. Phil” and through developing and offering his ChiroPilates method. This leads to better communication and trust, which leads to real healing.
“The word doctor doesn’t mean God, it means teacher,” Yoo says. “A lot of doctors forget that."
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
Waiting to Inhale
Originally published in The Groove, April 2007 
And then a week ago I saw Don puffing away on a cigarette, as he is known to do, so I sat down at the bar next to him for a beer and a chat.
“Just thinking about home,” he replied then exhaled a lungful of smoke at his reflection in the mirror across from us.
I waited for more. I learned as a reporter that you will often get more information from not asking questions than you will from asking them.
Within a few seconds he gave in, sighed, and said, “I was remembering the times when I could do this back home.”
“Do what? Drink a beer in a bar?”
“No,” he said, “have a smoke in a bar.”
I nodded silently. I don’t smoke and don’t have much sympathy for displaced smokers who find themselves huddled out in the cold because the law has turned against them. This is the case all over North America, Europe, Australia and now Hong Kong, Malaysia and Thailand, where smokers must leave restaurants and bars to get their fix.
“So is that what brought you to Korea? So you could smoke in a bar?” I joked.
“Yeah,” he said earnestly. “That, and the price. I was paying about four bucks a pack.”
Don was completely and utterly serious. He had left California in 2001 because he felt forced out. The cost to manufacturers in the U.S. had risen, partly because of litigation, to the point where one pack costs as much to make today as it sold for in 1997. Add in the taxes on cigarettes, which are partly used to fund anti-smoking campaigns, and smokers in the States are paying twice as much now as they were 10 years ago.
I was dumbfounded. I had heard of a few people coming to Korea to get away from drugs and the bad crowd they were hanging with, but for cheap cigarettes and the freedom to smoke next to children at the internet cafe? This was new. It took a minute to digest, and while I sat there thinking Don lit another.
I leaned closer toward him and in a whisper asked, “Are there more of you people?”
He smiled. “You have no idea how many of us there are,” he said, then leaned back to give me a clear view down the bar.
I saw a sea of blue-gray smoke and contented looking foreigners. Some of them were just watching their cigarettes burn down to the filters, because they could. One man was staring at the red glow on the end of his Marlboro and moving his lips, as if in prayer. But they were all smoking. It was surreal, like a scene in a Fellini film, or worse, an R.E.M. video.
“You do understand that smoking is bad for you, and since I’m sitting next to you, bad for me too?”
He nodded sagely. “It’s a choice we’re both making right now. Not just me. You too.”
“You know, Korea will eventually become enlightened on this issue and ban smoking in bars and restaurants.”
“Look around you, man,” Don said, nodding at all the smokers. “Korea is enlightened.”
Then he chuckled and added with a shrug, “Anyway, if it does happen, there’s always China.”
by Tracey Stark
A guy I know, let’s call him ‘Don,’ came to Korea five years ago. It never occurred to me to ask him why he left the States, thinking he would give me one of the three basic reasons people most often give for coming to Korea: “I wanted to try something different/experience a different culture,” “I needed a job,” “I was running from the law/bad relationship.”
A guy I know, let’s call him ‘Don,’ came to Korea five years ago. It never occurred to me to ask him why he left the States, thinking he would give me one of the three basic reasons people most often give for coming to Korea: “I wanted to try something different/experience a different culture,” “I needed a job,” “I was running from the law/bad relationship.”
And then a week ago I saw Don puffing away on a cigarette, as he is known to do, so I sat down at the bar next to him for a beer and a chat.
“So Don, why the faraway look?”
“Just thinking about home,” he replied then exhaled a lungful of smoke at his reflection in the mirror across from us.
I waited for more. I learned as a reporter that you will often get more information from not asking questions than you will from asking them.
Within a few seconds he gave in, sighed, and said, “I was remembering the times when I could do this back home.”
“Do what? Drink a beer in a bar?”
“No,” he said, “have a smoke in a bar.”
I nodded silently. I don’t smoke and don’t have much sympathy for displaced smokers who find themselves huddled out in the cold because the law has turned against them. This is the case all over North America, Europe, Australia and now Hong Kong, Malaysia and Thailand, where smokers must leave restaurants and bars to get their fix.
“So is that what brought you to Korea? So you could smoke in a bar?” I joked.
“Yeah,” he said earnestly. “That, and the price. I was paying about four bucks a pack.”
Don was completely and utterly serious. He had left California in 2001 because he felt forced out. The cost to manufacturers in the U.S. had risen, partly because of litigation, to the point where one pack costs as much to make today as it sold for in 1997. Add in the taxes on cigarettes, which are partly used to fund anti-smoking campaigns, and smokers in the States are paying twice as much now as they were 10 years ago.
I was dumbfounded. I had heard of a few people coming to Korea to get away from drugs and the bad crowd they were hanging with, but for cheap cigarettes and the freedom to smoke next to children at the internet cafe? This was new. It took a minute to digest, and while I sat there thinking Don lit another.
I leaned closer toward him and in a whisper asked, “Are there more of you people?”
He smiled. “You have no idea how many of us there are,” he said, then leaned back to give me a clear view down the bar.
I saw a sea of blue-gray smoke and contented looking foreigners. Some of them were just watching their cigarettes burn down to the filters, because they could. One man was staring at the red glow on the end of his Marlboro and moving his lips, as if in prayer. But they were all smoking. It was surreal, like a scene in a Fellini film, or worse, an R.E.M. video.
“You do understand that smoking is bad for you, and since I’m sitting next to you, bad for me too?”
He nodded sagely. “It’s a choice we’re both making right now. Not just me. You too.”
We sat in silence for another few minutes, sipping our beers, watching our reflections and listening to an old song by Mental as Anything. It was me who finally broke the silence.
“You know, Korea will eventually become enlightened on this issue and ban smoking in bars and restaurants.”
“Look around you, man,” Don said, nodding at all the smokers. “Korea is enlightened.”
Then he chuckled and added with a shrug, “Anyway, if it does happen, there’s always China.”
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