Years ago, a friend and I were traveling through China and stopped in Xining in the highlands of Qinghai province.

My friend had just taken a long, bumpy ride in a vintage-era Jiefang truck from the mountainous areas of neighboring Sichuan province. It was a brutally-cold winter.

The driver had loaded the truck’s open cargo area with dead yaks – their skins were headed to market. I never asked whether this was permissible. The goal, especially for my friend, was to stay warm.

And, as my friend recalled, a ride in a vehicle out of the mountains was so coveted that people sat on top of the dead yaks for a ride to Xining. 

After we met up, my friend and I went to a market when a Tibetan trader looked at my REI Novara waterproof jacket – it was the type that bicyclists wore, red and similar to this one - felt the material and realized its strength.

Through a translator, he asked whether I wanted to swap – my waterproof REI jacket for his long, fur-lined coat.

I respectfully declined. As I recall, his jacket had yak blood on it – and I probably didn’t want to tackle that at that moment. But at least, he suggested a trade of one jacket for another.

That wasn’t really the case when I received an email on Tuesday from a U.S.-based food supply company to write a blog post about its Web site and its section devoted to supplies for an Asian restaurant.

The request came from a blogger who writes for the company. The writer seemed to be well meaning. I don’t think it’s necessary to name the company or the writer.

The writer sent me an office address and telephone number. I looked at the company’s Web site and it looks like a legitimate business. It even has its own blog section.

If I wrote such a post about the company’s Asian food supply area on its Web site and sent the URL address, the blogger said I would be entered into a drawing to possibly win a cookware set worth about $1,295.

The person also asked for my feedback on the Web site.

I raise these examples for a basic reason – which I’ve written about before, in the form of The New World of the Free (as in the online world).

On that chilly day in Qinghai, that Tibetan trader offered me the jacket off his back for the one I was wearing.

In the new online world of the 21st century, a blogger whom I never talked with in person asked me to spend my time and skills to review the company’s Web site and its Asian food supply section for – get ready for some capital letters – the CHANCE to win cookware.

I certainly like the new in whatever form it might take. Its potential as a shaper of politics, economics, commerce, culture, art and just basic communication is powerful and attractive.

But I’m kind of an old school person in another sense: I’m willing to operate in a market economy.

I never had a role in the discussion as to whether the United States would be a free market capitalist society. But it is.

I see much strength in this model and am aware of the pitfalls. One of the strengths is that people ought to be paid – by that, I mean with money – for the goods and services they provide to other people.

It’s not really a complicated idea, though there is much history behind it.

Yes, bartering takes place in free markets. People can volunteer their services or donate goods. Or they agree to be rewarded in non-monetary ways.

But most of the time, money changes hands in market economies.

In other words, “chance” does not play a role that money or goods will change hands. There is a contractual obligation that money will circulate in the transaction. This leads to a greater certainty that market economies will continue in the future.

Now, don’t get me wrong.

I strongly support donating goods and volunteering services – especially to organizations committed to serving the public good and helping the overall well being of a community improve.

But it’s hard to agree to an unsolicited pitch from a food supply company – which is charging money to people who want to open restaurants – to write about it for no guarantee of fair compensation.

By the way, did you know that those rolling carts used in Chinese dim sum restaurants can sell for over $1,000 for a basic model and over $3,200 for types with ranges on them?

Think about it this way: My thought about this request would be much different if a larger portion of the free market worked in a way in which other people or companies gave away their services and goods for no cost.

Say, if I could walk into a big-box retail store and hypothetically say: “I’d like to use your goods, at my house for an indefinite period of time, in exchange for the CHANCE of me writing about your company on my blog.”

Or, if I could go to the airport and approach a ticket counter for a flight from Seattle to Paris (or Beijing, Hong Kong or Honolulu) and say: “I’d like something that your company values – a flight on one of your airplanes – for free and I might pay you in the form of a blog post, should I decide to write about the experience, aircraft and customer service.”

I’d be shown the door – quite fast.

I don’t have anything against this food supply company or blogger, who was trying to drum up attention.

I’m sure there are some bloggers in the market place who would think that the offer is suitable and accept the request terms. In this case, supply (labor) and demand (the request) would meet at a given point.

In the past, when I was a journalist, I often received unsolicited emails and phone calls from public relations agencies to cover events or products for certain clients. I understand that.

But also, in the old days and even to an extent these days, the sure-fire way to get your message across (in a free market) would be to purchase an advertisement in the good, old mainstream media. Or even in the New Media.

Or, these days, you can even go around the mainstream media and head to Craig’s List or just go viral with Facebook, Twitter and YouTube. By the way, this food supply company is using Facebook and Twitter to spread the word.

Now, if the United States was founded on the economic idea that autonomous collectives were sustainable and ideal for communities throughout the country, I’d probably have a different response to this email query.

The exchange of money for goods or services would not be such a high priority under this model. Rather, the well-being of the overall community would have higher value.

But this economic model has been tried in other countries before. The results, well, have been mixed and never really found firm roots in the United States.

At least, what the blogger sent me wasn’t spam.

Oh, and by the way, if you’re a blogger and write about this food supply company (because you’ve read this blog post), send me your URL link and I’ll forward it to the business.

And if you win that cookware worth about $1,295, I’ll have to request a commission of 50 percent.

Why? As a referral commission.

That’s only fair. Right?

Using your half, you can post an eBay note to sell your portion of the cookware.

If you sell your portion for about $650 cash, that’s actually pretty solid compensation for writing about a food supply company and its Web site.

Speaking of cooking supplies, I thought I’d post some photos of what we have.

My brother-in-law is such a considerate guy that he sent my family this black wok (pictured above and below) from China years ago to make sure that we have something reliable to cook with in the United States.

And my aunt gave us these beautiful bowls, complete with images of a Chinese dragon and phoenix on them.

We appreciate the thoughtfulness and kindness of our relatives.

Oh, yes. Since I’m talking about interesting things in life these days, I leave you with this famous clip from Seinfeld – the one in which George sports a wig.

Yes, I understand the issue of using information for free very well.

The best I can say in this case: My site remains free of advertisements and I post my thoughts to continue my creativity and writing, photography and video skills.

And circular thinking, really, is good.

Chinese lions are popping up with Lunar New Year celebrations in the United States. This is a LEGO model, made in 2008. While San Francisco police officers have their own lion dance group, this model is not related to their activities. Image source: "Big Daddy" Nelson's Chinese Lion Dance photostream on flickr

I was scanning the online photo gallery at SFGate of Saturday’s Lunar New Year parade in San Francisco when one caption caught my eye.

It sat under a San Francisco Chronicle photograph of a blue-and-gold Chinese dragon making its way down Kearney Street for the city’s annual event.

The caption referred to the “San Francisco Police Department Lion Troupe.”

In 2001, it was the only lion dance group that was associated with a police department in the United States, according to an archived article by reporter Heather Knight.

That’s probably the case today – but please let me know if you’ve heard of any other police agency in the country that has its own Chinese lion dance troupe.

My thought: Check this out.

From Knight’s article:

The group formed in 1988 as a public relations gesture and has since gained members from the Colma Police Department, the U.S. Park Police and other local law enforcement agencies.

She noted that the dragon is 150 feet long.

She also quoted Sgt. Phillip Wong, who was the group leader in 2001:

At first, people look at us and they don’t think we’re police officers….But then they see our T-shirts with our emblems and they say, ‘Oh, you guys are cops?’

The group performs at up to 50 shows each year.

I like it.

If you haven’t seen my recent posts about Lunar New Year – that is, celebrating in Seattle – have a look. I also like Chinese dragons.

And I posted some details about how the lion became popular during Lunar New Year celebrations in China.

Speaking of SFGate, be sure to read the review of “Deep Creek,” a book about a sad slice of Chinese American history. William Wong, my uncle, wrote the review.

UPDATE: I forgot to say. If you like the Chinese lion head made from LEGOs, here’s a link to “Big Daddy” Nelson’s work.

And if you really like LEGOs, have a look at artist Nathan Sawaya’s work – in fact, he’s willing to sit down with you and, well, make you.

In that link, there’s another link – so many, these days – to a Raiders of the Lost Ark clip, of course, done in LEGOs. Sean Kenney is another LEGO artist.

Finally, if you like LEGOs and the Matrix, the movie, and haven’t seen Trinity in plastic brick form, you’re in luck.

Note: This animation does have some violence.

OK, I think I’m going to stop talking about LEGOs – for now.

Um, I spoke too soon. There’s a LEGOs Star Wars movie, too.

If you’d like a more serious topic, I recently typed the word, derivative.

So my family and I helped the Seattle-area economy by purchasing this Chinese dragon while we were shopping at Uwajimaya, the Asian supermarket in Seattle.

We didn’t expect to buy it.

Isn’t that always the case when you tell yourself you’re just going to get food or gas?

But Lunar New Year is here and a long, gold dragon appeared last weekend in Seattle’s Chinatown International District to ward off not-so-nice spirits and usher in luck, health and prosperity.

When I saw the gold dragon, the one photographed above, at Uwajimaya, I realized the colors were just about the same.

And besides, I’ve always liked Chinese dragons – including a rubbing of one from the Han Dynasty (206 BC – 220 AD).

And the afternoon sun in the Seattle area was something to be happy about – especially as it filtered through a window.

My family and I will enjoy our new addition – which is a puppet – for years to come, just as my parents, sister and I have cherished the lion’s head my mom bought decades ago in San Francisco Chinatown.

And yes, my wife and I have spent money unexpectedly before.

With my son at my side, I turned on my digital camera, switched to video mode and captured Saturday’s Lunar New Year celebration in Seattle’s Chinatown International District.

It was terrific – bringing back memories and giving my son a chance to see what I saw in San Francisco and Oakland Chinatowns when I was a kid.

My grandparents lived in those Chinatowns and my parents would take my sister and me to celebrate and watch the colorful, loud street performances.

My wife was shopping for vegetables. But my son and I hurried out the store and made our way to the district’s Chinatown Gate, where martial arts master Mak Fai and his group brought out their best lions and dragon to welcome the Year of the Tiger and scare off the bad spirits.

I’ve never talked with Mak Fai – who was featured in some great drawings by Seattle Times artist Gabriel Campanario. But he’s a colorful character – he’s easy to spot in his red track suit and red hair in the video – and can be seen at restaurants and stores.

As you probably know, red is a lucky color for ethnic Chinese – particularly during Lunar New Year.

I like the fact that it was a down-home event.

Catch the guy in the video who is walking around with orange plugs in his ear to block out the thump, thump of the big drums and the clang, clang of the cymbals.

My son’s eyes lit up when he saw the colorful lions dancing before us and the long, orange-and-gold dragon swirl around.

I do like the martial arts dancers – especially the person wearing the Buddha mask. The person does a nice hand twirl and later engages in some foot or leg dancing with one of the lion performers.

Toward the end, the gold lion walked toward us. A child was a few feet away and the lion dancers decided to stoop down and send their greetings.

And the animal’s eyes and ears fluttered.

The adults near the lion piped up with hoots of joy and excitement.

You’ll also spot a television cameraman, a professional, walk through the video frame.

When I was a full-time journalist, I used to show up in the International District to cover events and dig around for interesting stories – such as an herbalist who once worked in the neighborhood.

These days, it’s safe to say, in many regards, that I’m a citizen journalist. I’m a former professional journalist.

But I am a citizen. And I do practice journalism when I can.

But I’d show up at events such as this to observe and soak up the atmosphere, regardless of whether I practiced professional, citizen or any form of journalism.

Hey, I’m Asian American. My wife and I also want our son to know the meaning of Lunar New Year – and realize that the world is a big and colorful place.

And just how colorful is Mak Fai?

Well, on his martial arts club Web site, he’s posted a photograph of himself with Gil Kerlikowske, Seattle’s former police chief who now works for the White House.

Mak Fai also calls himself – or at least his club – the “King of the Lion Dance.”

And Seattle-area residents might recognize the building in the background of the video as the American Hotel, which is the new Hostelling International building and offers affordable beds to travelers.

This rubbing of a clay tomb tile from Sichuan province dates to the Second Century AD. The inscription in the circle refers to long life. Image credit: Copyright The Field Museum, fieldmuseum.org

These characters "sui han" refer to the coldest time of the year. The rubbing is from the Ming Dynasty (1368 - 1644 AD). Image credit: Copyright The Field Museum, fieldmuseum.org

This rubbing is from a Han Dynasty (206 BC - 220 AD) tile inscription and has the meaning of "lasting happiness." Tofu also was created during the Han Dynasty. Image credit: Copyright The Field Museum, fieldmuseum.org

In terms of pure design and a passage to life in Asia centuries ago, visit The Field Museum’s site for its Chinese Rubbing collection.

The online images, mostly in black and white, range from a classical poem talking about wind gusting at the top of a pagoda overlooking a field to the curving back of a celestial dragon, known as Qing Long.

The Chicago museum has one of the largest collections of Chinese rubbings outside of China. Museum staff has done a great job explaining the types of rubbing – bei and tie – and their work.

Here’s a summary from the museum’s introduction, which notes that rubbings have been crucial in China for more than 1,500 years:

Because they are easily transported, rubbings quickly became the primary means to faithfully reproduce and share historical data, poetry, scholastic texts, calligraphy, and art throughout China. Due to the loss and deterioration of many original stones through the centuries, rubbings frequently are the sole remaining evidence of a significant portion of China’s artistic and cultural heritage.

What else do they tell us?

Well, a lot.

Even if you can’t read Chinese, you get a sense of balance and how simplicity and elementary shapes and lines can please the eye.

And that humans back then – yes, in this case, often people from privileged backgrounds - yearned for lasting happiness and aesthetics.

When I’ve traveled in China, I’ve spotted rubbings either at legitimate antique stores or souvenir stands.

I think I even have a copy of this image of the Buddhist saint Bodhidharma, who brought the religion to China.

It’s tucked away in one of my boxes. He was a monk from India.

I’ve also hiked around Shaolin Temple, one of the major birthplaces of Chinese martial arts.

In that area, I visited a cave where, legend has it and to the best of my recollection, Bodhidharma meditated inside for so long that his shadow is on its wall.

With China, it’s easy these days to focus on certain topics – that it’s the world’s largest automobile market, that it’s the globe’s third-largest economy, that its military has become more modern.

But I’ve always wanted to tell my friends and family in the United States about the eye-catching rubbings – and of course, carvings – that I’ve seen in China.

Certainly, if you have the time, head to China and see the carvings and rubbings for yourself.

If it’s your first visit, you also can stand and just look at the buildings in the big cities and the people around you.

For some reason, I’ve always liked museums and history.

After you’ve seen rubbings such as these, you can probably see why I can stand for hours and just study the images and characters.

Many of us, though, are busy these days.

So because of The Field Museum’s project, I can refer people to an intriguing collection of a time when emperors – seen as gods or “sons of heaven” – controlled dynasties.

And, of course, I want to thank the museum for granting permission for me to post images of the rubbings.

My wife, Dan, as always, has been a tremendous help in explaining Chinese literature and history to me. She translated the classical poem and other words in the rubbings.

This is one part of a poem and talks about a pagoda rising from the ground and how its curved, symmetrical roof is pleasing to the eye. It dates from the Song Dynasty. Image credit: Copyright The Field Museum, fieldmuseum.org

This Han Dynasty (206 BC - 220 AD) rubbing shows a bronze vessel. Image credit: Copyright The Field Museum, fieldmuseum.org

This stone rubbing is of the Azure Dragon Qing Long, a celestial guardian. The original image is from the Han Dynasty. Image credit: Copyright The Field Museum, fieldmuseum.org

This tomb tile rubbing is from the Chengdu area of Sichuan province. It is also from the Han Dynasty. Image credit: Copyright The Field Museum, fieldmuseum.org

This rubbing dates from a 1547 AD image, taken from the tomb of an official's wife. It also shows an earlier script style for Chinese characters. Image credit: Copyright The Field Museum, fieldmuseum.org

As a teenager, I once bought a white T-shirt from Honolulu’s Chinatown that had black letters noting the location and a red curving dragon representing Chinese culture.

Its mouth was agape, its teeth were sharp, its pointed toes jutting out and its spiny body swirled on the white cotton. For some reason, I liked it.

Since then, I’ve tried to keep my eyes open for Chinese-style dragons in the United States, China or other parts of Asia. I like seeing designs, learning the history behind them and noting where they pop up.

In fact, I once bought some note cards printed by The Metropolitan Museum of Art that featured a yellow dragon on a Chinese emperor’s silk robe.

When I went to the New York City museum’s Web site, I didn’t spot that image but I found this eye-catching piece of history.

This bronze ladle with a dragon head is from the Three Kingdoms period (220 - 265 AD) in what is now China. Photo source: Copyright © 2000–2009 The Metropolitan Museum of Art (www.metmuseum.org)

You can see why history, architecture and design interest me – particularly when a ladle design can surprise because of a dragon head at one end and its place in history.

Also, as the museum notes, dragons have appeared in art and artifacts in other places on the globe.

I appreciate the Metropolitan for putting a digital image on its Web site and for letting bloggers such as myself use the photograph under its terms.

Years ago, I visited the Metropolitan, the actual museum.

But it is easy to become overwhelmed by everything in it. Also, years later, it is hard to remember all the images on artifacts.

This ladle image, as well as the bell photograph below, do the trick – and remind me how long the dragon has been around in history.

This bronze bell with "faint dragon motifs" is from the Eastern Zhou dynasty, which dates from 771 - 256 BC. Photo source: Copyright © 2000–2009 The Metropolitan Museum of Art (www.metmuseum.org).

Many people have posted stories online about Chinese dragons in history – as well as images.

Apparently, there are nine types of Chinese dragons – some with horns, others with wings - and the history of the creature in what is now China stretches to 3000 BC, according to an article from tour operator Beijing Service.

The mythical creature represents “happiness, immortality, procreation, fertility and activity” and the fierce creature could chase bad spirits away, the company explains.

Dragon images, as I noted, have appeared on the clothing of Chinese emperors because, as the Beijing Service notes:

Chinese emperors think they are the real dragons and the sons of heaven. Thus the beds they sleep on are called the dragon beds, the throne called the dragon seat, and the emperor’s ceremonial dresses called the dragon robes.

Legend has it that the snake-like creatures reside under the Earth and only surface during the Chinese calendar’s second month.

Their purpose, the article points out: To cause rain and thunder.

In Seattle, I’ve seen dragon images in the Chinatown Gate, in a license plate holder and documented by photographers.

In Beijing, I’ve even bought a dragon kite, similar to this one, and watched old men fly large ones in the sky over Tiananmen Square.

The name of Bruce Lee in Mandarin is Li Xiao Long – with Long being the Chinese character for dragon.

The other day when the afternoon sun hit a dragon’s head in Seattle’s International District, I pulled over near the intersection of South Jackson Street and Fifth Avenue South.

If you’re in a rush, it’s easy to pass these dragons, though I’ve noticed that tourists often spot them.

Dragons have even surfaced in my family’s history with my grandfather handing down stories to my mom about his home village in the Taishan area of Guangdong province.

As I note in an essay published in Cultural Curiosity: Thirteen Stories about the Search for Chinese Roots: 

He used to tell my mother that the village and its rolling hills – which locals say resemble a dragon’s curvy back – were paradise.

I write later that my family’s village in China looks romantic to an outsider - but it’s difficult work if you actually toil in the humidity, stagnant water and fields.

Oh yes, back in Seattle, across the street from that red dragon is a yellow one that looks at its counterpart.