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Thanks for the quiet weekends

Veterans Day Weekend 2014

Oatmeal Chocolate Chip Cookies

It was a quiet weekend here in the big city; tomorrow is Veteran’s Day in America so a lot of people – myself included – took today off from work.

Didn’t do all that much; went and saw my mom and then took a trip out to my wife’s family as well.

And I baked cookies – a lotta cookies.

A quiet weekend and I’m grateful for the men and women that do what they must so the rest of us can have quiet weekends.

Hope you had the same.

Location: the burbs
Mood: sympathetic
Music: To distant shore with the gifts they were given
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Everything is easy once someone shows you how

Bart-Oh-Low-May-Day and the Egg

Egg of Columbus from WikiCommons
(c) Wikicommons

Today is Columbus Day here in the States and for years, I rolled my eyes at people that felt it should be renamed. Tradition and whatnot.

Then someone sent me this Oatmeal comic, which I found pretty eye-opening. Ended up doing some more reading and he really was a horrible human being.

So now I’m in the other camp and agree that the name – although not the holiday itself – should be reconsidered.

Still, there’s this apocryphal story I like about him, which is called the Egg of Columbus.

The story goes that a buncha dudes were sitting around Columbus and essentially saying that, at some point, someone from Europe would have “found” America.

Columbus ignores them and, instead, asks for an egg.

He says to the men, “Stand this egg up one side.” The men can’t. So he then takes it, cracks the bottom of it, and then stands it up.

Then he says something like, Everything is easy once someone shows you how.

I imagine he then throws the deuce, flips the table over, tells them all the screw themselves, and says, peace out.

My brother did something similar when I was a little kid – the balancing the egg part.

I couldn’t figure it out and then he took some salt, poured it on the table, and sat the egg up in that. Some 30 years later, and I still remember it.

Speaking of which, he figured out how to save (most of) the pictures from my camera card.

Smart fella, my brother. Everything is easy once someone shows you how.

Now off to work – no Bartolomé/Indigenous People Day for this fat boy.
UFC Fighter Angela Hill at Formerly Crows

Here’s one of the few pictures that made it through – with Angela Hill from the UFC.

Location: The New World
Mood: excited
Music: baby, as long as skies are blue
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My Father and the Cherry Trees

Returning home stronger

Washington DC, Monument from Lincoln

Him: Is everything ok with you? Can I help you with anything?
Me: I’m fine dad, really.

Saw my pop the other day. He’s getting on in years and I worry about him. He’s a short guy but I remember as a kid that he seemed huge to me. Now that he’s older, he seems even smaller.

His birthday’s coming up soon and I’m trying to wrap my head around just how much older he actually is. I forget at times. After all, parents are simply just your parents – it’s hard to see them as anything else.

And I suppose the opposite is true as well; parents look at their children as naked helpless things.

It worries me just how much he worries about us. It doesn’t matter how much money we might make nor how secure we are in life, parents will always worry, I suppose.

Had to dash to a meeting so I didn’t have too much time to spend with him. But I wanted to tell him a story. Since I didn’t have time to tell him, I’ll tell you.

In 1912, the Mayor of Tokyo sent a gift of Japanese cherry trees to Washington DC as a symbol of friendship. A total of 3,020 from a famous group of trees along the Arakawa River in Tokyo were planted in West Potomac Park.

Then World War II happened. The relationship went to hell and only healed afterward.

In 1956, it was discovered that the cherry trees of the Arakawa River were badly damaged, most likely due to the war. So the US donated some of the cherry trees that they were given. They were the same stock – the very same family – of trees from 1912. But they were stronger than the original stock. They could flourish when the original trees that never left could not.

I wrote once to my grandma when she passed to not worry so much about my mom. She was safe here.

And to my pop, I want him to know we are too. We’re safe.

Because sometimes when you send things out into the world, they return home stronger.

Perhaps one day I’ll have children of my own. And I’ll send them off into the world.

I’ll try not to worry about them too much but I’m sure I will.

But I hope they return home someday, stronger than when they left.

Him: I worry about all of you.
Me: I know you do, dad. You don’t have to.

Location: yesterday, lunch with my dad
Mood: nostalgic
Music: Just like every cowboy sings his sad, sad song
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Wondering about the burbs

Maybe someday I’ll move from here

Statue of couple in Riverside Park NYC
Last week was a bevy of activity because a tenant in my building found bedbugs in his unit.

Because I still manage the building, I was involved with the process every step of the way. That was annoying and a massive time suckage for me. So, despite having a number of meetings with clients and the usual workload, I kept having to run back home to handle hysterical owners and irritated tenants.

It’s enough to make me think of moving to the burbs – in fact, I dropped an email to my old college buddy who bought into the building with me years ago, but later moved out of the city.

He says he has no regrets.

Thankfully, the building’s bedbug situation was resolved fairly quickly so I was back in a New York (City) state of mind.

Still, we do talk about it, the wife and I. Maybe someday leaving the concrete jungle for some green grass and shade. But then we’d probably find ourselves with just each other. Which might not be a bad thing.

Me: Don’t be silly, I love everything about you.
Wife: Tell the truth.
Me: I love most things about you.
Her: There you go.

Location: a building without bedbugs
Mood: relieved
Music: folks like to get away, take a holiday from the neighborhood

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First thing you do, buy yourself a whoopee cushion…

The Lighthouse and the Whaler

Bryant Park, NYC in Summertime
Met up with my boss and my buddy Johnny at The William the other night. We had some business to discuss.

Me: We’ve known each other 20 years. This may be the first time we’re working together.
Johnny: You’re the only person left I trust. I couldn’t let money come between us.
Me: That’s the thing. Money’s not my primary purpose. I’m interested in things money can’t buy.
Him: Wait two years. I gotta settle a few things.
Me: I know. It’s been 20 years. I can wait two more.


The weekend was hot so my computer kept crashing.

So I put on some tunes – like Venice by The Lighthouse and the Whaler – pulled it apart, and isolated the problem to a faulty fan.

While I was in there, attempted to swap out the CPU but that didn’t work because I didn’t have the right parts.

Still, was pretty proud that I still knew how to troubleshoot technology; I used to build networks and computer professionally before I became a lawyer.

Me: (to wife) I figure if everything goes to hell, I could always go back and be a computer guy. The only question would be how to start getting rid of my most annoying clients.
Her: First thing you do, buy yourself a whoopee cushion…

Location: Fall in NYC, I think
Mood: ambitious
Music: I have seen all the feeling and the rains
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Conversations with the wife and politics

Putin knew what he was working with

New York Historical Society - Old Police Equipment

Felt rough all week; my leg was swollen like a sausage and I was under the weather. So I stayed home one day, put on my most comfortable, ratty tee-shirt and what can only be described as capris for men.

I’m not (terribly) proud.

The wife saw me puttering around and pulled me close, nuzzled me, and gave me a kiss. She then pulled away and looked me deeply in my eyes.

“You look like a homeless person,” she said.

———-
On a more somber note, the news is full of what’s going on in Israel and Ukraine. On the former, it’s a complex subject and one I’m not qualified to address, although I have my own particular views on the matter.

On the latter, however, I read with interest how Putin is publicly shocked at what’s gone on despite being actively involved in the unrest in Ukraine since the first day. Which immediately recalled to mind a story I once told you years ago.

Putin’s been working with murderous thugs for years and he’s suddenly surprised when they start acting like murderous thugs.

He knew what he was working with when he started.

Location: home, with an ice pack
Mood: old
Music: Tell my wife I love her very much (she knows!)
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Ironing things out

A quiet 4th of July Weekend

Burger at Arte Cafe in NYC
After work on Friday, met up with my friend Johnny. He just bought a bunch of hotels in San Francisco and NYC. We roll in very different circles these days.

But he’s reaching an age where he’s wondering if it was all worth it. He’s always traveling the world, far from family and friends.

Him: I think I’m gonna retire in the next five years, when I turn 50. Maybe do volunteer work in Africa. Be by myself and figure a few things out
Me: You’d probably learn more about yourself by being around friends and family. Your friends mirror what’s important to you. After all, iron sharpens iron.

All this talk of family reminded me that I should see my own so I headed out on Saturday to see my pop as my mom was traveling.

And then on Sunday, the wife and I went to Central Park with her sister to go to a picnic with my wrasslin coach. Unfortunately, spotty reception and mixed messages thwarted us.

Her: Didn’t you figure all this out before we left the house?
Me: (…) No? (thinking) What am I gonna do with all this cole slaw?

So we just grabbed lunch around the way. Got my usual burger, which is all I really ask for over the 4th.

Afterward, headed home to get some work done.

It was a quiet holiday weekend for us, just how we wanted it.

Location: Midtown, shortly
Mood: relaxed
Music: Many days fell away with nothing to show
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A bit of taco from TacoBite

Hanging out in the hood

TacoBite food truck in NYC

The thing about returning from a vacation is that, within a few days, the effects of it are pretty much gone. I’m already back in the thick of work.

We’ve since returned to our healthful eating after our cruise. Not that she ever stopped.

Healthful Meal

Me: Do you think you have enough liquids there?

Still, the weather’s been really nice here in NYC, especially the past few days so we took a walk in the neighborhood to pick up a rug, which we lugged home.

Afterward, the lunch truck TacoBite was in the area so I got a burrito and she got two tacos. Pretty amazing stuff. Wish I had some right now.

Everyone thinks of Times Square or some place downtown as quintessentially Manhattan. For me, my little slice of the Big City is about as close to a small town as one can get in the heart of Manhattan.

Her: It’s nice to be on vacation, but it’s also good to be home.
Me: Yes. Although I miss having someone else find us stuff to eat.

Tacos from TacoBite.com

Location: soon to be in Chinatown
Mood: pensive
Music: I was just a skinny lad, never knew no good from bad
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Father’s day 2014

Communication and having to white it up

Boulder against cloudy blue sky

Him: (proudly) That’s my son.
Me: Hey, little fella.

Got a random call this weekend from an old college buddy. He was in town for just a bit and wanted to stop by with his new son.

Because I married so late in life, I’m one of the few people in that group of friends that have no kids.

It’s weird, even now, realizing that so many of my friends are parents and on that next stage of their lives. If I ever do become a father, wonder what type of one I’ll be?

Speaking of fathers, it’s Father’s Day. For a number of reasons, I wasn’t able to see him, as much as I would want to.

Sadly, something else that’s different with my friends is that many of the them don’t have the luxury of simply picking up the phone and calling them any more.

I do, though, and try to whenever I can.

Me: Hey dad, just checking to see how you’re doing.
Him: I’m good. Getting fatter.
Me: That makes two of us.

For many reasons, wish my Chinese were better. One, so I could talk to him more; another so that, if I ever did have a kid, would be able to talk to him or her in it.

Him: I feel bad, sometimes. English isn’t my native language. Chinese isn’t yours. It’s like me and my dad. We couldn’t communicate.
Me: Yes, but communication isn’t what you say, it’s what the other person hears. So, I think it’s fine.

The wife speaks another language fluently, so I don’t expect her to pick up a third. Although I do try to teach her some important phrases.

Me: Can you order me a 榨菜肉絲麵?
Her: I’ll never be able to say that, I’ll have to white it up.

Location: yesterday, 11AM, the West Side Highway
Mood: excited
Music: say honestly you won’t give up on me And I shall believe
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My nephew and a video

When I met my nephew and made a video

My sister had a kid recently. Was in her hood recently seeing yet another doctor when my mom and I popped over to meet the little guy.

There’s something weird about holding your sibling’s kid for the first time. I recalled holding my sister as a kid and now I was holding her kid. Found that so interesting.

He however, found the whole matter of meeting me less interesting, as he merely yawned after meeting me and closed his eyes to sleep.

Can’t blame him much. I rarely say anything that can hold a candle to a midday nap.

Speaking of saying anything, shot a quick video promoting the book. You can take a look at it above and let me know what you think. Perhaps you’ll find it more interesting.

Spent the day traveling around New York City and Long Island yesterday. Tomorrow it’ll be New York City and New Jersey. Moving around a lot these days.

Dunno if I’m actually getting anywhere though.

Location: yesterday, two different doctor’s offices
Mood: hard to say
Music: looking for means to pave the way, for brighter days
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