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California 2012 Travelogue: Day 3

A broken chair, ramen, and home

Jet Blue airplane in Burbank

Her: Morning!
Me: Morning – I need coffee and Mexican food.
Her: We have lots of leftover pizza.
Me: OK.

Wake up early. Damn insomnia. Sit down to chat with my brother’s girlfriend fiancee in the morning. As we’re talking about me falling down the stairs yesterday, my chair breaks and I come crashing down on that same knee.

Man, I swear I’m darned.

Broken chair in LA

After icing it for a bit more, putter around the house. Wanna keep it low-key so I give my buddy Lorin a call – we’ve not seen each other in years. He drives over and we go to a local coffee shop to catch up.

I tell him of the troubles and he tells me of his.

Him: …and then I got remarried.
Me: Good, I’m glad. You happier now?
Her: Much happier. You?
Me: Much.

Coffee Shop in Pasadena

We don’t stay long and soon I’m back at my brother’s pad. After trying to get some writing done – and hitting some really bad writer’s block – my brother, his girl, and I head out to the local Ramen joint. It’s closed.

Him: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

…but we find another joint around the way. Pretty good. Scarfed down the whole thing with a plate of fried tofu.

Bob Hope Airport, Burbank

I’m too beat to walk around so we head back early. Finally manage to get five hours sleep. We wake up the next morning and he drives me to Bob Hope airport.

Him: Thanks for the surprise.
Me: Ditto!

Pretty quiet trip. I walk out into the NYC summer heat, make it home, and call the wife.

Me: I’m home.
Her: Logan’s home!

It’s good to be home.

———-

Logan Lo and his brother in NYC in the 70s

For those of you that’ve read this blog for years, you might recall when I wrote the difference between Grace and Mercy:

  • Grace is when you get the good things you don’t deserve.
  • Mercy is when you don’t get the bad things you do deserve.

Anywho, I always think of my brother and sister when I think of that. Could use some of both these days for reasons we’ll get into some other time.

Even as a child, I’m stuffing my face. No wonder I broke that chair…

Location: my bed, writing this
Mood: anxious
Music: two American kids growing up in the heartland
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California 2012 Travelogue: Day 2

Coffee, Stairs, and an Engagement

Coffee percolator

Him: Morning!
Me: Morning – I need coffee and Mexican food.

Next day, wake up at my brother’s and, per my usual routine, have coffee. Unfortunately, they only have percolator coffee, which isn’t my favourite but beggars can’t be choosers. At least the pot looks nice.

While going down the stairs, I slip and slide down to the bottom.

Him: You ok?!
Me: I bruised my knee but I think I’m ok. These stairs are dangerous! Do people slip on them all the time?
Him: Nope, you’re the first.
Me: (getting up) Of course I am.

Damn you stairs, my forever enemy.

Mexican restaurant in LA

Him, his girl, and I head off to the local Mexican place. It’s a place that has polite waiters, clean tables, actual silverware, and food you don’t need to unwrap.

Me: (scowling) This isn’t the type of Mexican food I wanted. I wanted food stand food.
Him: Why?
Me: It’s what I eat! Plus the wife’s not here.

Still, it’s excellent. I order the fish tacos as I told my wife before I left, that my goal was to eat as many fish tacos as I could here.

Fish tacos in NYC

After my bro clean up the house for his party. I meet a guy that does the same fencing as I do so we chat for a bit before I politely leave. I’m beat so slip off to bed as I hear my brother start to sing “Hey Jude.” After a few hours, there’s a banging on my door.

Brother: Hey, come back up. I’m asking her to marry me.
Me: Get outta here! (looking down) Suppose I should put on some clothes.

Went back and my bro did the deed on bended knee.

She said yes. It was lovely.

Afterward, went back to the room and lay in bed for five hours wide-awake listening to really drunk karaoke. This was not lovely.

If I am condemned to hell, I imagine it will involve karaoke.

Congrats to my bro!

Location: a guest bedroom, listening to more karaoke
Mood: exhausted
Music: you’ll begin to make it better better better better better better, oh
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California 2012 Travelogue: Day 1

Small world / What else?

By the time you read this entry, I’ll be on a flight back to New York.

Decided to fly out to Los Angles to surprise my brother for a party he was throwing. Left on Thursday night to spend the night at the rents. Usually pack pretty light but when my mom saw my near empty bag, she put in several pounds of homemade food into my bag.

Me: You’re crushing my clothes!
Her: Oh, you’ll be fine. (Shoving in a brick of sticky rice) Wear some of your brother’s clothes.

Even though it was pretty early, the airport was packed. Funny thing was the guy in front of me in the queue looked familiar.

Me: James?
Him: Logan?

Turns out it was a guy from my wrasslin class from a while ago. He got injured and I’d not seen him in years. Small world.

After a plane trip surround by Chinese people and one really annoying guy, arrived in LA just before 11AM.

Guy: (furious) If I weren’t gay, I don’t think you’d say anything. We’re having this argument because I’m gay.
Me: (rolling eyes) Dude, we’re not having this discussion cause you’re gay, we’re having this discussion cause you’re a high-grade moron.

My brother’s girlfriend picked me up and brought me back to his house where I stopped by a roadside drive across the street from the first Trader Joe’s and picked up – what else – some chili.

Afterward, was making some pizza for my brother when he walked in.

Me: Hey.
Him: What are you doing here?!
Me: (laughing and drying hands) Well, you did invite me to the party…

Later, met up with Caffeineguy and his buddy Paul for – what else – some rum at this place called Patterns Bar. It was for a girl’s bday and it turns out, she was a former New Yorker that I knew. Small world.

Caffeineguy: Are you still rum monogamous?
Me: It’s more of an open relationship now – just don’t run Tequila by me. She is not my friend.

Paul had to run and I was fading fast so after some hearty handshakes and a hug or two, called a cab and went back to my brother’s pad. Went to bed thinking of my wife and the California sun.

There’s more but I’ll tell you tomorrow.

Location: On a leather couch in LA
Mood: beat, beat, tired
Music: if you find me one, I’d love a picture of the California sun
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Mother is the name for God

Me: Do you have a 紅包 (red envelope)? I want to give a business associate a gift.
Mom: (excitedly) Oh, I have just the thing! (disappears and returns a moment later)
Me: Mom! I’m not giving a Hello Kitty envelope to anyone. Ever.
Her: (disappointed) But it’s so cute…. Soooo, cute.

Couldn’t make it out on the actual mother’s day to see my mom but did see her on Friday.

She eventually gave me some envelopes with the word “luck” on it and told me to hang one upside down over the door frame so the luck would pour down on me.

Told her that my luck is of the odd stripe, but did any way cause she’s my momma.

In The Crow, the hero/anti-hero quotes a fellow named William Makepeace Thackeray who said that Mother is the name for God in the lips and hearts of little children.

Truer words were never spoken.

Me: Do you want to go on a bike ride?
Her: OK.

The wife and I took a spin on Saturday. The weather was perfect. We went from the 50s to the 90s and back again before grabbing a bite to eat outside.

Everything went just fine until I dropped my brand new bike light into the Hudson River. Me and my darned luck. The red envelope musta been empty.

Me: It looks like every time we go out for a ride, we’re going to spend about $12 on a new tire or a new light.
Her: Looks that way.

It’s a small price to pay.

Location: desk, waiting for people to get back to me
Mood: anxious
Music: I feel so low, Mamma, where do I go?
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You are you who are because of the parents to whom you were born

Lobster tail dinner

How much do you think the US gives as a percentage of Gross Domestic Product? In other words, how much do you think we give outta the all the money the country makes in a year? 5%, 10%? Answer below.

———-

Had an interesting online exchange with a stranger:

Him: Poverty is … well to put it as unpolitical as I can, something that occurs because parents don’t know how to teach their kids any better. That’s as nice as I can put it without being sadistic about it.
Me: How did you get your parents? You didn’t work for them, you did nothing to get the ones you did. If you were born to parents in North Korea or Somalia, your life would be vastly different if not for sheer dumb luck. Don’t pat yourself on the back for having the brilliance of sheer stupid luck.

He gave a lot more nonsense answers before finally admitting that the only real difference between him and the world he snidely judges comes down to a child’s taunt: Heads I win, Tails your lose.

We are – almost completely – the product of the parents to whom we were born, good or bad.

Said this to someone at work who immediately quipped, What if you were adopted? which I said, proves my point. If you were born to a young mother who gave you up for adoption, that changes your life dramatically.

Likewise, if you were born to a pastor (the “PK” as we used to say) you were stereotypically either on one extreme or the other in terms of behaviour patterns.

You don’t necessarily ape your parents, but you are shaped by them.

To “be counted among the world’s richest 1 percent, a single individual has to earn just $34,000 a year. Members of the planet’s true middle class, meanwhile, live on just $1,225 a year.”

That’s astounding.

If you read me – ie, have internet, have a computer – you’ve won the real lottery of life by being part of the true 1%.

If you do nothing else to pay back the aether for your dumb luck, at least tell the people that gloat over their good fortune and look down everyone else, “Shut the _____ up.”

———-

The US gives a total of 0.19% of GDP to foreign aid; in other words out of every dollar we make, the US gives 0.19 cents to foreign aid.

http://www.gatesfoundation.org/annual-letter/2010/Pages/rich-countries-foreign-aid.aspx

(c) Gates Foundation

Location: sick in bed
Mood: sick – send soup
Music: Words as weapons sharper than knives
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The person with the answers’ worth the wait

UWS church in NYC

Was asked to be one of the photographers for my new church opening on the UWS. It’s flattering to be asked but maybe it’s more my Syd than me.

A photographer once told me that at least half of the difficultly of taking pictures of people’s the walking up to strangers and shoving a machine into their faces.

You “take” pictures – no one “gives” them to you. It’s aggressive by its very nature.

The thing’s that I’m not an aggressive guy. Most people’s responses to my taking pictures is a why-not kinda shrug.

Dunno if this’s a good thing or bad thing but I’m leaning toward the former.

Whiskey Tavern in NYC

Went out to see the family over the weekend and the wife came with. Spent most of it building a PVR for my pop.

Time Warner has two numbers for building these things and I called the local number (718.358.0900) versus the toll-free number (866.606.5889) as it seems to be a shorter wait.

The lady on the first one – after 15 minute wait – said, “Hold on, I’m going to send a signal to your box.” I told her I had a series of numbers that I was supposed to read to her and she told me she didn’t need it.

30 minutes later, I’m back at the Time Warner repair center returning a fried box.

This time, called the second number and – after a 90 minute wait – got a guy who chuckled and said, “She fried your box, huh? Dunno why they keep putting the local numbers there. Those guys don’t know what they’re doing.”

No. No they do not.

Moral of the story? The person with the answers’ worth the wait.

Whiskey Tavern in NYC

Afterward, met up with Gio. He was having a party at Whiskey Tavern downtown to celebrate his 40th birthday as well his recent engagement. He and I had many the random meetings in the big city together.

As usual with him, the poison was on his tab and all of our people were there. My liver wasn’t speaking to me afterward. Ran into a number of old faces and it was good catching up – even ran into three people that read me here (hola!).

Anywho, there’s this saying that every pot has it’s cover. Maybe that’s true.

Met the future Mrs. Gio that night and told her I wished the two of them all of the best.

Life’s hard enough without your person.

Location: bedroom, writing
Mood: disappointed
Music: you give me no reason why you’re making me work so hard
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The hours drag but the years sprint away

Westin Hotel in Jersey City

Her: (after applying make-up) See the power of make-up?
Me: You always look good.
Her: Awww, you don’t have to say that.
Me: It’s not like I married you for your personality.

We took a trip out to Jersey for her grandmother’s 90th birthday (and other reasons) this past weekend and stayed over at the Westin in Jersey City. It’s nice to get away from city, even if it’s only across the river and for just a bit.

90 years. Find that pretty astounding, actually. I’ll be 90 in 2063, which seems like a lifetime away but it’s only 18,615 days away.

It’s a weird time in my life where the hours drag but the years sprint away.

While out there, we managed to grab a couplea episodes of the BBC show Sherlock, which puts Sherlock Holmes in the 20th Century. Truly somea the best writing on television. Do yourself a favour and try to catch it.

Speakinga writing, am hit with a massive case of writer’s block. No joy.

While out in Jersey, drove by the place that my ex used to live and s’funny when you look back on your life and remember the different versions of yourself like they were different people.

It’s always me but it is not I.

Cake at Fire and Oak, Jersey City
Coffee at Fire and Oak, Jersey City

Location: getting to the post office
Mood: rejuvenated
Music: all these places have their moments with lovers and friends I still can recall
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2011 Year in Review / Thanks


CS Lewis once said that, The future is something which everyone reaches at the rate of 60 minutes an hour, whatever he does, whoever he is.

With the utmost respect to Mr. Lewis, there’s something about the world, when you get a certain age, where hours seem to drag but the years seem to fly by. 2011’s almost over and it feels like it just began.

In 2011, I:

  1. Made five resolutions. Kept three of them.
  2. Got married. (!)
  3. Got food poisoning for the third time in my life.
  4. Turned 38. (!)
  5. Had a second wedding celebration.
  6. Had a third wedding celebration wedding celebration and a fourth one as well. Man, we are just fulla ourselves – and then traveled to Europe to give some lectures.
  7. Nuthin really happened in July, just a lotta quiet summer weekends in NYC. But man, was it hot.
  8. Went to Bermuda, then dealt with Irene.
  9. Gave another lecture and spent a lotta time in the Down Town Association.
  10. Finished my manuscript. (!)
  11. Had my first Thanksgiving without going to my parents and instead had it with my wife (and sister-in-law – both of which I’ve not had in previous Thanksgivings).
  12. Made this here self-referential blog entry.

There are a few things that I keep to myself that I don’t put here just for a small semblance of privacy.

For example, I had six resolutions actually, the sixth was to marry Heartgirl. But I couldn’t actually put that up when I made those resolutions.

On the topic of Heartgirl, don’t think that I’ve ever said I love her publicly. Love is a word we all banter around; for example, I love rum and chili. Not together, per se, but conceivably even then.

Think it’s kinda obvious how I feel but maybe that’s just what it is in my head. But I do. Love her, that is.

She’s who I’ve been looking for since I was a fat kid in Flushing, NY. My person I can’t put inna words. And I’ve tried many times and yet I can’t.

So I won’t try. Instead, lemme say again that life’s a tragedy fulla joy and that she’s my greatest joy. She’s also funny, smart, and easy on the eyes, all of which doesn’t hurt.

Finally, I want to say thanks to her. For being the person to whom I don’t gotta prove my worth and for making sure I always have someone with whom to spend New Year’s Eve.

As for you, as always, thanks for reading.

Well then, it’s almost 2012.

Off we go…(!)

Location: the end of 2011
Mood: psyched
Music: Ah, but I thought I’d ask you just the same
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You become less self-reliant after marriage

Building being torn down in the UWS, NYC

While I love the Honeymooners, it did always bother me that since that show, most family shows I know of have been about a clever wife and dimwitted husband. Think everything from The Simpsons to The King of Queens. There are some exceptions but by-and-large, that’s the go-to situation for most sitcoms.

Still, now that I’m actually married, I think there’s something to be said for men and “marriage brain.” Find myself relying on her regarding things on which I was once fairly self-reliant.

Me: Have you seen my toothbrush?
Her: I packed it along with some floss, toothpaste, and other toiletries in a plastic bag. I also packed a snack bag.

Which is not to say I don’t pull my own weight around the joint. In addition to being the official killer of bugs and other critters, I keep the place humming.

Her: Why’s it so bright in here?
Me: I put in two more fluorescent light tubes.
Her: (shielding eyes) Take them out – it’s like we’re living on the sun.

Although it is interesting since we got married, we’ve somehow managed to read each others minds so that often seem to be thinking the exact same thing at the exact same time:

Me: I like married life.
Her: (simultaneously) You look weird.

Well, not every time.

Location: in fronta an enormous cuppa joe
Mood: still wide awake
Music: nobody knows that her eyes are as big as her bubbly toes
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Marriage is a funny thing

Small Thanksgiving dinner in the UWS, NYC

Her: George Washington __________? Between New York and New Jersey…
Him: Carver?
Her: George Washington CARVER is between New York and New Jersey?! BRIDGE! It’s BRIDGE! George Washington Bridge!

Forgot to mention that the wife and I did our first Thanksgiving sans respective families, although her sister did come by for the main meal.

Marriage’s a funny thing. We regularly comment to each other that, prior to three years ago, we were total strangers. Now were eschewing the family we’re known all our lives for this new family we made. See, funny thing.

On Monday, met up with some old co-workers from my internet days at Dive 75. If you’ve never been there, it’s the best bar in NYC, IMHO – mainly cause the music/tv’s not that loud, there’re bowls of chocolate everywhere, and stacks of board games.

Ended up playing Taboo until it was way past our respective bedtimes. Alcohol and chocolates really increases the entertainment value of boardgames.

It’s always hard finding time to meet up with them, or anyone really, but isn’t it always a nice time when y’actually find the time?

Location: the desk, per usual
Mood: Super busy
Music: They say people in your life are seasons And anything that happen is for a reason
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