Author: Logan Lo

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As fine a legacy

The richest people

I’m 26 in that picture above. Half my current age.

When Alison was here, I used to do most of the cooking. And with the Firecracker, I cook most dinners.

It’s because Alison and The Firecracker both preferred cleaning to cooking.

But there are so many dishes that I wish I coulda made for everyone, but I just don’t have the recipe.

Me: I wish I wrote down some of my dad’s recipes. But I was so fucked up at the time.
Firecracker: You did the best you could with what you had. And just leave it at that.
Me: Thanks for saying that.
Her: Anytime. And it’s true.

My kid let me sleep in – like, seriously, sleep in – for Father’s Day, which I really appreciated.

It gave me time to just stay in bed and think about my dad.

I mention him a lot in this blog, but I wanted to share another story to give you some idea of what he was all about.

When I was a kid, I rarely saw him. He was out the door to job number 1 before I woke up for school, which meant that he was already up, dressed, and ready for the day by 7AM.

And I was usually in bed by 9PM but I didn’t see him because he went to school at night to try to better himself.

This left my mom home to cook and clean for us. We were poor so we almost never ate out or had take out anything.

She cooked 3-4 meals a day, because she also had to cook something for my dad at the crack of dawn.

When my dad retired, decades later, my mom was working. And he told her that she would never have to cook again.

He explained it to me once.

Him: Your mom stayed home to take care of the house so that I could work and make money for us. I told her that, because I have time now, I’ll do all the cooking and cleaning now while she’s working because it’s only fair.

And he did.

For at least the last decade-and-a-half of his life, he cooked every single meal he could for her.

He also wouldn’t let her clean up afterward.

That was the deal.

This was taken in 2002, 23 years ago when my life was so very different.

That’s who my dad was; he was a feminist and a liberal in many ways, without ever saying either word in his lifetime, I don’t think.

He just was madly in love with my mom, I think. And he innately believed in fairness.

He wasn’t without his faults, just like the rest of us, but when it came to his wife and family, he was the kinda guy we all wish we could be.

I miss his terribly, on this Father’s Day and every day.

I hope that what he gave me, I can give the kid so that the kid can give it to his family.

Suppose that’s as fine a legacy as anything.

Location: the couch, with the kid, watching Charlie Brown
Mood: nostalgic
Music: you wouldn’t have to say (Spotify)
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Back to 2010

Being productive

Him: It’s funny that you just saw a nun the other day. I saw one the other day in an argument with someone over something.
Me: No kidding.
Him: Yeah, she kept it clean but was really tearing into the guy.
Me: Sounds like someone needs to get some.

Took on a large portfolio of work the other day.

It was far more complex than I’d anticipated but a deal’s a deal so there wasn’t much for me to do but just try to get it all done.

Part of it meant that I had to spend a day in Brooklyn, so I drove the Firecracker to her new office (they just moved offices), which was a treat for both of us.

Her: It feels so luxurious to be driven to work by a hot guy.
Me: Hey, I’m driving you!

And I did manage to sneak out for a few hours to meet up with the Firecracker and her friend who let us crash at her pad in Vienna.

But I couldn’t stay for long because the deadline for alla this work is rushing towards me faster than I can type.

Then again, it’s nice being productive in a manner unrelated to raising the kid.

It’s like I’m back to 2010 again, before…everything.

Location: up to my eyeballs in bills and paperwork
Mood: busier than a one-armed coat hanger
Music: we should ride by slow (Spotify)
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Tribute

Its name is *not* “Bear”

Him: What is it, papa?
Me: You tell me.
Him: It’s a bear! A little bear.
Me: Actually…


A song I’ve always enjoyed was Tribute by Tenacious D.

If you don’t know the conceit of the song, essentially the lyrics tell a story about the band meeting a demon that demands that the two play the best song in the world—or risk losing their souls.

So, Tenacious D improvises a tune that is so good that – miraculously – the demon’s defeated.

Unfortunately, however, they later forget how it went, leaving only a pale shadow memory of that legendary performance, which they call Tribute as it’s merely a tribute to a much better song.

Now, did you know that the word “bear” isn’t the word for the animal?

The animals we call “bears,” were such a horror to Europeans, they would never say the actual name of the animal, only calling it names like “The Honey Eater,” “The Destroyer,” or – and I love this – “The Brown One,” or…”Bear.”

And guess what they never wrote down?

The actual name of the animal they called, “The Brown One,” out of fear that it would be summoned when it heard its name.

So, when you call something a “bear,” you’re not actually calling it the name that those people who coined the word actually called the animal, you’re calling it the codeword of that name.

It’s a tribute to the actual name of the animal.

My point is that there are so many things that we think we know that aren’t actually what we think they are, like penguins and bananas.

Her: Your son was really nice to my daughter, tell him thanks. You and your wife are doing a great job raising him.
Me: Oh, that…she’s my fiance. My wife died not soon after he was born.
Her: (shocked) Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I…
Me: (interrupting) It’s ok. We don’t need to dwell on it.

I think I’m doing an ok job raising the kid mainly on my own, with help from my family, Alison’s family, and the Firecracker.

But, in the end, how I’m able to raise him is all just a tribute to the life he coulda had if things were different and Alison and my dad were still here.

It’s not the actual life I wanted for him but – if he’s a good, happy, and healthy kid – I think it’ll be good enough.

Well, that’s the hope, anywho.

His life is my tribute to her and my dad.

So, here’s hoping it’s an amazing one.

Location: my kitchen, quickly cooking dinner so I can get back to work
Mood: like college-finals-level busy
Music: You gotta believe it – and I wish you were there! (Spotify)
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The Island of Statens

All over the joint

It’s been about 11 years since I spent any serious time in Staten Island.

The last time I went, it was for Paul’s wedding, I was 41, and I looked like this:

Logan Lo and a buddy on the Staten Island ferry

Think I look roughly the same but that could just be me.

Now, outta the five boroughs that make up New York City, Staten Island’s the weirdest one as it’s cut off from the rest of the city’s subway system.

Instead, you have to take a ferry there, which isn’t terrible – if the weather cooperates.

In any case, the other day, I had to meet up with a client there so, right after I dropped off the kid, I took the train downtown to catch the ferry.

At the base of the ferry is The National Shrine of St. Elizabeth Ann Seton, and it was the first time I’d ever seen a nun leave or enter it.

But I didn’t have much time to gawk as I had to make my appointment.

Here’s a time-lapse video of the ferry docking at the Staten Island side.

The meeting lasted hours – as did the work – but he’s a nice fella so it wasn’t terrible.

And it was interesting being there again. When I was in my 20s, I dated a doctor from there for a spell.

Seems like a million lifetimes ago.

In any case, was all over the joint doing work, before I wrapped up and dashed back to the ferry station to be in time to get the kid.

Was completely exhausted.

But the view woke me up.

Honestly, there’s little like the view of Manhattan from the water.

Although Govenors Island isn’t too shabby…

…neither is Brooklyn.

But, like I just said, there’s really no place like Manhattan, though.

At least, for me.

Location: up to my eyeballs in bills and paperwork
Mood: busier than a one-armed coat hanger
Music: we should get together – ride baby, ride (Spotify)
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Manhattan Street Fairs

The struggle of the street fair

Probably, one of the best things about living in the heart of Manhattan is that there’s always something going on and you usually end up just stumbling across it.

Case-in-point: The other day, the kids were both away and the Firecracker and I found ourselves alone, looking for something to do.

Her: We can go downtown to get some chicken parm sandwiches, maybe?
Me: Sure, but I just saw that there’s a street fair not too far from us.
Her: Perfect, I didn’t really need the chix parm, I just wanted to be outside.

So, off we went.

The main thing you do at a NYC street fair is struggle over what – of all the amazing looking food – are you gonna ultimately eat?

Her: How about bratwurst? You love German food.
Me: I do! But I don’t wanna end up stuffing myself with something and end up wishing I ate something else instead.

That’s pretty much how I deal with all street fairs: I process every decision through FOMO, or, Fear Of Missing Out.

Honestly, though, it’s probably for the best as the stuff I’m always interested in is all the stuff I shouldn’t be eating.

These two fellas were super nice and very persuasive, but we managed to walk away without having a carb bomb.

There are other things there, like cool knickknacks, like these photo coasters, which I’ve told you about before.

Me: The plastic fell off on the back of some of them. Can I put them back on?
Seller: Wait, plastic? I don’t think you got them from me, then. I’ve not used plastic feet in over a decade.
Me: (laughing) That’s when I bought them from you!

In the end, despite all the amazing looking food everywhere, we were good and didn’t buy anything bad.

It was just a nice day to take a walk with one’s fave person that one’s not blood related to.

Location: my desk, wishing my back would stop being a jerk
Mood: ache-y
Music:  the stupid things I do for you or just for a taste (Spotify)
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Witty Staircases

L’esprit de l’escalier

I pride myself on being able to say the occasional witty retort.

Like when I was arguing politics with someone…

Him: You know, you should just admit that he has some good points.
Me: Well, then we’d both be wrong.

…or when I was dating this super clumsy girl who was essentially battering me every time we got together.

Her: When you are a klutz, you get hurt. When I’m a klutz, you get hurt.
Me: Have you considered *not* assaulting me.
Her: No.
Me: Well, at least you’re consistent.

But there are plenty of times where I think of the perfect thing to say waaaaaay after the fact.

The French call that L’esprit de l’escalier or staircase wit.

It was coined by an 18th-century French philosopher, who described the phenomenon as thinking of the perfect comeback or response only after the moment has passed, like when you’re walking away, down a staircase – hence the name.

Case-in-point, I recently, I had a conversation with the Firecracker.

Her: Can you put the cantaloupe away?
Me: It has to ripen.
Her: Put it in a cabinet.
Me: You want me to put a cantaloupe into a cabinet?
Her: (slowly nods)

What I shoulda said was: Well, I can’t…ya dope.

I would never call her a dope, but it sounded funny

Or when we were discussing heading to Boston.

Her: They have a really good transit system, we won’t need a car.
Me: I thought you said it was really old?
Her: It is, but it’s still reliable. Like you – old but reliable.
Me: Blargh.

What I shoulda said was: Joke’s on you – I’m both old AND unreliable.

Or the time I made a comment about her dancing.

Me: Are you having a seizure?
Her: Aw, just get a few drinks in you and you’ll think I’m doing a great job.
Me: Tenuous.

What I shoulda said was: Define: “A few,” and “great.”

But I tease her because she is so great, so I have to take her down a peg or two from time-to-time.

Which brings me to my old friend Katsmw, and something a bit related to l’esprit de l’escalier.

Well, kinda.

I just forgot to mention two funny little things in my last entry that she pointed out after the fact.

See, Katsmw was at the last Memorial Day with us and noted that I forgot to mention that Cappy, Gar, and Duck taught her how to play the card game, 鋤大弟 (pronounced chor dai di).

Man, we used to play that game for hours; there was one time that I played it with Bobby and the fellas through the night until it was dawn.

In any case, the Firecracker won the first hand she ever played.

Then, she won the second one as well, something that amused Katsmw no end.
Should also mention that she reminded me that she had this following conversation with my son.

Her: Are you sure you want to go back into the pool? It’s cold today!
Him: It’s fine. I run hot.

The boy knows how to turn a phrase, that’s for sure.

Hopefully, he’ll keep his comedic timing as he gets older.

Location: a terrace in my building, watching the workmen do their thing
Mood: still sore (shoulder)
Music: Dur dur d’être bébé (Spotify)
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Memorial Day 2025

Plus a turtle release

For the fourth year in a row, had a really nice Memorial Day get-together with my college friends.

It came on the heels of our night out with the Frenchman and Bryson, so neither the Firecracker nor I really ate much before we arrived.

And once we did, the eating began…

Decades ago, I remember going with the Professor to some events and he always brought stuff like canned tuna fish so that he could see his friends but also stick to his diet – he was a competitive bodybuilder before he was a professor, of all things.

In any case, I have a reputation for bringing (a) peanut butter and (b) low-carb wraps to stuff.

This time, though, the hosts had both ready for me.

These are the kinda friends you gotta keep forever.

Now, my friends Cappy and Duck, did the opposite by bringing amazeballs carbs in the form of limited-edition donuts from doughnutplant.com…

…and Chinese pastries.

I couldn’t resist so the low-carb wraps were essentially for naught.

But I definitely had my fill of protein…

…protein…

…and more protein.

One thing that we all really enjoyed was Korean fusion tacos, where – instead of taco meat – there were various types of Korean BBQ with kimchi on top.

Absolutely killer.

The kids thought so too – oh, I ended up getting alla kids Scenic Fights shirts, so here’s a brief pic of them wearing them while eating.

There was one bit of unpleasantness: One of our core group – the guy that is probably the main glue that keeps us all together – had to bail super last minute because of health issues.

We’re all hoping he’ll be ok.

The fear is that, as we get older, we’ll all have these kinda things to deal with.

Turning to a (much) less serious matter, in the middle of the day, the host’s son released a turtle that he’d been nursing back to health for a while.

This is what constitutes wildlife around here.

It was late when we headed back.

Another great Memorial Day weekend with good friends.

The older I get, the more I value these kinda things.

Location: a street fair with my favourite person I’m not blood-related to.
Mood: sore (shoulder)
Music: say what really hurts. You can count on me (Spotify)
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Japanese(ish) food with my Japanese friends

A grand time with friends

The Frenchman and Bryson were game to come my way to get some food, so we headed to our usual Japanese BBQ haunt in the area the other day.

We’d all decided that the adults would head out and get dinner while the kids would stay by mine.

To this end, I ordered – initially – one pizza pie and picked up some snacks and drinks as well.

Bryson: Uh you might want to get more than one pie. Two teenagers, and three boys. I know [my son] can eat three slices when he is hungry.
Frenchman: Was just gonna say.
Firecracker: Yeah, one pie isn’t gonna cut it.

I don’t have a lotta kids over my pad, so I ordered two pies and let the kids do their thing as the rest of us went out and stuffed our fat faces.

Interestingly, on the way there, evidently, we walked right by my neighbors several blocks from the pad and they snapped this pic of us.

Both Bryson and the Frenchman – despite the latter’s moniker – are Japanese, so I was a bit hesitant bringing them there.

But everyone really enjoyed everything, and the conversation was great, as usual.

Person1: So, how did you all meet?
Person2: We were neighbors and…
Person3: I asked him to come to Barnes and Noble with me, and he said no…

The alcohol – including that beer tower above – didn’t hurt…

…and everyone seemed to enjoy the s’mores, except me. I’m just not that into sweets.

Or, to steal a line that my dad used to say alla time, I’m sweet enough.

Afterward, we walked home, although no paparazzi this time around.

When we got back, the kids were all having a grand time – and while they killed the drinks and a lotta the snacks, they only ate one of the two pizza pies.

Me: Ah-ha – vindicated!

We all ended up drinking and chatting until it was late.

My kid went to a birthday party that day, had this impromptu party, and was heading to another get-together the following day for Memorial Day.

But I’ll tell you all about it in the next entry.

Location: not Staten Island, due to the rain. Have to head there next week.
Mood: still super busy
Music: Things will happen while they can (Spotify)
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The exciting UWS

Deer, water, and the UWS

I like my neighborhood precisely because it isn’t exciting – at all.

There are cool things like the Beacon Theatre and Lincoln Center but it’s still relatively quiet around here.

Well, last week was a doozy of a week for the UWS for a number of reasons.

Me: What’s going on?
Buddy: A deer got hit by a car.
Me: No, seriously, what happened?
Him: That’s what happened!

Didn’t believe my friend I ran into around it when he told but it seems that a deer that somehow ended up in the Upper West Side and got hit by a car.

It then sought shelter in a townhouse courtyard that I regularly walk past on the way to/from my gym.

The cops shoo-ed me away when I tried to take some pics…

…but a fella I didn’t know came up to me.

Him: Hey, I got some pics if you want to see what’s going on.
Me: That’d be great, thanks!

He ended up sending them to me so I could show the Firecracker, who was definitely not gonna believe me because I could barely believe it myself.

He was definitely wounded and bleeding profusely.

Yes, that’s the deer’s blood. It was really that colour.

They shot it with a tranq but had to put it down, I heard.

NYC’s a rough place if you’re not used it to.

Poor guy.

The other thing that’s been happening is that my tiny building is dealing with more water issues.

Couldn’t, for the life of me, figure out where it was coming in from so, I hired a pro, whom I’d worked with in the past.

Damn if he didn’t go to the other side of the guardrail – the side where you fall to your death – hold onto the potentially unstable guardrail with his left hand…

…balance on one lege, and dangle OVER the gutter and take a picture of a 25 foot long, one inch gash underneath my gutter.

Him: I think I found your problem. There’s…
Me: Come back first!

He survived and I definitely needed a drink after all that.

Like I said, I like living where I live precisely because it isn’t exciting.

Here’s hoping things go back to being boring next week.

The X is where his foot was and the dot is where his head was.

Location: Not dangling over my roof, I can tell ya that
Mood: insanely busy
Music: standing ’round this corner, tall enough to touch the New York sky (Spotify)
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Showerheads and Siblings

Main Character Syndrome

Reading about the psychopath that blew up the IVF center in California gave me so many mixed emotions, least of which this asshole decided his opinion of the world trumped everyone else’s opinion of the world.

I don’t get how people think it’s ok, or even reasonable, to force their worldviews on others.

Like, that’s the ultimate in main character syndrome I can imagine.

But I digress.

Perfect Circles dropped me a line recently.

Her: Pregnant again! Number three joining us in August. Plainly we’ve lost our minds but it just felt like the gang wasn’t all here yet.
Me: That’s amazing, congrats!! Oh man, that was my dream, to have three kids. Alison only ever wanted to have two. Sigh.

Told her that I was thrilled for her, which is true.

But then that got me thinking: I’ve got a few embryos out in the world that I’m still struggling to figure out what to do with.

I’ve always wanted another child but that doesn’t appear to be in the cards.

In any case, one idea was to donate them to couples in need – ie, a couple that can’t produce a child on their own.

I seriously considered it in the past, but there’s an interesting phenomenon where people that are biologically related – a fact that they often don’t know initially – find each other and fall in love.

There’re a buncha stories like this:

    • Reddit reported revealed that a woman found out her six-year relationship with her boyfriend was really a six-year relationship with her biological brother after taking a DNA.
    • A Mississippi couple found out that – not only were they brother and sister – they were also twins!
    • A lesbian couple have suspicions that they might be half-siblings but plan on remaining a couple.
    • A couple from Brazil – with a six-year-old child – found out that they were actually brother and sister, both of whom were abandoned by their mother as children. The kicker is that they found this out together and live on the radio.

It’s not hard to see how they might fall in love; after all, we’re equal parts nature and nurture.

In fact, you can see how a hypothetical conversation might go:

Him: I love 80s music.
Her: Me too, my favourite band is Duran Duran.
Him: OMG, me too! I went to their last concert in London back in 2022.
Her: Wait, I was there too!

I’d read about this phenomenon ages ago but I was recently reminded of it when I visited my sister the other day.

I never told her that I fixed my bathroom but when I went to use her newly renovated bathroom, I found out that:

We both picked the same shower head – in the same colour to boot!

The one on the left is my sisters and mine is on the right. They’re the same colour – it’s just the lighting that makes it look different.

AND we picked the exact same tiles!

These are hers…

…and these are mine.

Again, we both did our bathrooms without discussing it with the other.

Anywho, yeah, I don’t think I’ll give those embryos away…

Location: the wet rain
Mood: brrrrrrr
Music: Tell me all the things that you like (Spotify)
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