Tag: good things

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personal

Court Papers

And then lunch in Chinatown

Her: It happened!
Me: What?
Her: My papers! The judge signed off on everything, we’re done!
Me: Sweeeeet – I’ll head down with you so you can grab a copy.

The Firecracker’s been involved in a legal matter for the better part of a year now and it was finally resolved last week (in a manner that made her happy).

So, early the other day, we took a train down to the court house together to get an official copy of everything.

Managed to get a copy and get out the door in less than an hour.

Afterward, we walked down to Chinatown to get some food.

Along the way, she noticed a cute little bookstore:

Her: OMG, that’s the best name: Yu and Me Books!

While we didn’t stop in, we did stop to get some cherimoyas, which are essentially Asian pawpaws.

They were $10 each so basically the same price as a domestic pawpaw.

Afterward, we made our way to a local greasy spoon.

Me: Could we get everything in takeout containers? We have to eat and run.
Waiter: Sure thing.

The Firecracker had to dash back to work so she left while I made my way back to work, belly full.

Not a bad way to spend a morning that involved heading to court.

Location: standing in front of my desk, wondering when my hip won’t hurt
Mood: okay
Music: It’s not over. You’re not your mistakes (Spotify)
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Hanging out at JP’s pad

Something adult-like

Me: Do you wanna hit up the Morgan Library and Museum?
Her: Is it a museum or a sit and read kinda place?
Me: I think a little of both? It’s been ages since I was there last. I forgot who I even went with

Whenever the boys are away, the Firecracker and I scramble to do something adult-like since we always have factor in entertaining the kids otherwise.

We didn’t really have any set plans so just randomly got tickets to the Morgan Library and Museum.

I was coming in from dropping the kid off in Jersey so we met outside the museum.

It was a quick line so we were inside in no time.

Me: Crazy that someone once lived here.
Her: I think that this is actually an enclosed courtyard – I think these are two separate buildings they combined.
Me: Whoa, I think you’re right. (shaking head) Man, that is a crazy amount of scratch this dude had.

The actual library stuff was like something outta a movie.

Her: I’m waiting for Belle from Beauty and the Beast to show up with a book in her hand.
Me: Of course you are.
Her: Listen, I’m whimsical and romantic. There’s nothing wrong with that.

She even found some really cool Dickens and Chinese stuff.

Side-by-side to boot!

We also went to the mezzanine to admire the view – again, this was someone’s house once (or at least the outdoor space of someone’s house).

Wild.

It was gorgeous inside but there really wasn’t all that much to do so we spent probably an hour there at most.

Me: I’m ready to eat.
Her: Me too!

We walked a few blocks and ended up at this relatively empty Persian joint called Miraj Healthy Grill.

While they had some odd decoration choices…

…the food itself was on point.

Her: Man, the number of pictures I have of you with that face.
Me: I can’t help it – I love food.

I not only ate everything on my plate, I ate everything on hers. The food was excellent.

Me: OMG, I’m so full.
Her: Wow, you never say that.

Afterwards, we took the long way home and enjoyed a nice night out as two adults.

Me: Did you have a good night?
Her: Were you there? Then yes.
Me: (laughing) Thanks, I’ll take it.

Location: court, again.
Mood: annoyed
Music: drinking in the dark, I don’t know where I wanna go (Spotify)
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Movie Premier: Gladiator II

(c) 2024 Getty Images

Cray Rachet

Scenic Fights got an invitation to a pre-release screening of Gladiator II the other day.

I got picked to go pretty much just because it’s walking distance from my pad.

So, the other night, the Firecracker and I got dressed and took a little walk to the movie theatre.

We arrived and immediately queued to have our pictures taken.

The main picture above is the Getty image that we took.

I asked the gentlemen to not be so much taller than me but, clearly, they didn’t comply.

While she was queuing, I went to get us drinks.

Me: Can I get a Gladiator for my date, and I’ll have the Roman Empire, but toss in like two shots of vodka for me?
Bartender: You got it and good choice with the vodka.

It was really pretty good.

Afterward, we took our pics and then went to the other room for food…

…so much food.

The Firecracker managed to snag one of these cool little Colosseum popcorn buckets.

My producer asked me to get as many shots of myself as I could but the lighting in a movie theatre leaves a lot to be desired.

Speaking of leaving a lot to be desired, the flick itself was pretty good – I was surprised what a good job they did linking it up to the original that came out close to a quarter century ago.

The issue was that we were sitting next to possibly the most rachet group of influencers out there.

They were clearly suffering from Main Character syndrome with zero interest in the film – they were just talking loudly and texting the whole time.

Luckily, they left with 1/3 of the film to go – like I said, they had zero interest in the film.

All-in-all, it was a nice night out with the Firecracker and a good excuse to get dressed up.

I told her that we needed to get invited to a premier like for The Killer, which was awesome.

Her: That was fun!
Me: I thought so – our seat partners notwithstanding.
Her: Can’t win them all.
Me: Evidently not.

Location: court, again.
Mood: annoyed
Music: drinking in the dark, I don’t know where I wanna go (Spotify)
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It was my mom’s birthday

Parthian Chicken

It was my mom’s birthday the other day.

We were originally all going to see some other relatives before we saw her for dinner.

So, I rented a car since it was the four of us: Me, the kid, the Firecracker, and her kid.

But, at the last minute, my other relatives cancelled, and it was too late to cancel the car.

Since we had it, we just went on a little car-ride to Ikea out in Long Island where the kid had their Swedish meatballs and I got (another) planter, this time for a lemon tree that Bryson got me.

The Meyer Lemon tree that Bryson gave me. He insists that I can grow lemons at home; the jokes on him because I am incredibly bad at getting plants to produce flowers or fruit.

Afterward, we drove back and I picked up dinner for everyone – it wasn’t a lot because most of us were full, including my sis and her kids.

It was still good, though.

Anywho, my mom’s getting older but still working because her job gives her joy.

I envy her, in many ways; she found purpose in her life that inspires her and keeps her active, both mentally and physically.

Feel lucky that she’s still around and gets to see the boy grow up.

This year will be the first year that we’re doing Thanksgiving at my place – the first time in close to 30 years of my being here (!)

So, I’ve been practicing making Parthian Chicken, which is a 1,500 year-old recipe that I got from a YouTube Channel I like called Tasting History.

It’s unlike any other chicken dish I’ve ever had because it has this spice called Asafoetida (“hing” in Indian groceries) and…well, it absolutely stinks.

As does the garum/fish sauce that is used to season it.

I bought this one. It does not smell good.

But the taste is just killer, and the smell essentially transforms into this really lovely thing after an hour of baking.

The Firecracker and I love it; her kid likes it, and my kid is less than thrilled.

Still, I think that it’ll be a nice change up from the usual Turkey and stuffing.

I’ll let you know how it goes.

Location: standing in front of my desk because my back is absolutely killing me
Mood: guess
Music: Say you’ll be there, when I need you (Spotify)
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Hot pot with a buncha hapas, Pt 2

What’s a Hapa?

I’m hard pressed to say which of my friends are the better chefs.

For my money, Steele’s probably the best but that might just be because I’ve had his food the most.

Bryson and Pak are both close behind, with Pak working in restaurants practically his whole life and Bryson just taking it seriously like Steele.

I will say this: Before my dad died, Steele and Bryson both came by so he could show them how he made sushi.

It’s one of my fondest life memories, ever.

As for me, I’ve been trying for some two-plus decades to get invited over to Bryson’s for a meal and, earlier last week, it finally happened.

Because the Firecracker and I had such a great experience at the Frenchman’s for dinner last year, we all decided to have hot pot again, but this time at the Brysons.

Their pad was absolutely ginormous – four bedrooms in Queens, which isn’t very common.

With an outdoor area to boot.

Me: Man, this place is just tiny.
Him: (laughing) Come on, I’ll give you the tour.

Bryson moved a lot in the past few decades but, like me, stayed in the same building, just moving from one unit to another.

The last time I visited Bryson and his wife, Nikki, they were both sans kids; this time around, they had three, with one a freshman in high school.

Her: I saw you on YouTube and told my friends you were friends with my dad, that was fire.
Me: Sweeeeeeet, I’ll take it. Tell your friends.

Bryson wanted me to just sit and chill but it was just him prepping for this small army of people.

So, I rolled up my sleeves and got to chopping, first deboning and cutting the chix and then the flat iron steak.

Bryson took the chicken and made some Karaage – which my dad used to make for me alla time (god, I miss him) – for the kids, although we ate some as well.

Firecracker: OMG, that is so good.
Me: That’s for the kids! The hot pot’s the main attraction.
Her: I’ll try…

But Bryson didn’t make it easy for her anyone to pace themselves because he kept bringing out these delicious dishes that we all loved.

Like, I mentioned how much Tess and I liked spam and how much the Firecracker had grown to love it and so he made a bowl of musubi for us to all enjoy (which is what the kids were eating in the last photo of the last entry).

By the time the hot pot rolled around, we were all already pretty full.

Which is not to say that we didn’t kill that all as well.

On that note, Bryson bought a slab of wagyu beef which, being the absolute animals we were, we devoured before Bryson got to try any.

Me: So sorry we killed the wagyu before you had a chance to try it.
Bryson: Whatever. Super happy you guys were able to enjoy. That’s my happiness

Afterward, we all had some of the tart and chocolate cheesecake that the Frenchman and Tess brought over.

Oh, I suppose I should explain the main pictures of these two entries: My back has been absolutely killing me these days.

I’ve been doing this back PT called the Mckenzie Method but you gotta do it like every 60-120 minutes all day for it to work.

I’d be slacking for a while so my back’s not been improving.

Ergo, I gave myself a goal of a minimum of eight times a day and – because these were all good friends of mine – I asked Nikki for a yoga mat and did them.

It was fine – it was my comedic contribution to the night.

Well, that and alcohol.

It was a great night, as always, with good friends.

We took an Uber back and the boy was beat tired when we got back.

Me: Did you have a good time, kiddo?
Him: Yes. I’m so full. I’m so tired. Did you, papa?
Me: Good. Yes, I did. Bryson’s one of my oldest friends and the Frenchman and his family are nice aren’t they?
Him: (nodding as he dozes off)
Me: Good night, kid. Papa loves you.
Him: (smiles with his eyes closed)

Location: a train to the Morgan Library and Museum from Newark
Mood: starving
Music: if we go down, at least I’m in good company (Spotify)
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Hot pot with a buncha hapas, Pt 1

What’s a Hapa?

A hapa, in Japanese, has traditionally meant someone that is half Japanese and half something else.

Other Asians, like myself, have co-opted this term to mean anyone that is half-one race and half-another.

So, my son is not technically a hapa but I call him that.

In any case, after a lotta back-and-forth – and because alla our significant others got along so well – Bryson, the Frenchman, and I finally agreed to meet up for another dinner, this time at Bryson’s.

There, I marveled how the hapas completely outnumbered the only three people there that weren’t hapas – namely, myself, the Firecracker, and the Firecracker’s kid.

What I found the most interesting was that the Frenchman (French/Japanese) married another hapa, Tess, (Chinese/Caucasian), while Bryson (African-American/Okinawan) married another hapa, Nikki, (African-American/American).

And Bryson and Nikki have three hapa kids, while the Frenchman and Tess have two hapa kids.

The kicker is that some of the hapa kids were dating…other hapas!

Me: How do you all keep finding each other?
Bryson: We’re everywhere!

I’m finding this to be true.

Always wondered if the kid was gonna end up with an Asian like me, or a Caucasian like Alison, or something else entirely.

It never occurred to me that he might end up with another hapa.

Based on what we were seeing with the kids, that seems more likely than I had originally thought.

In any case, the food was so amazeballs that I felt it deserved its own entry, so I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow.

Oh, and I’ll explain what’s going on in the picture above as well.

Her: Everybody point at Logan!
Me: That’s really not…ok, I see this is happening.

Location: my apartment, showing the boys how to escape an American lock.
Mood: parched
Music: We ‘bout to elevate, getting up and getting down (Spotify)
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The kid’s getting older

It’s been nine years since that day

The kid’s birthday just passed.

It sucks because I can never just have it be a joyous thing. Like Mother’s Day, Thanksgiving, and Christmas, the kid’s birthday is a complex affair for me, and probably others.

Alison collapsed just five days after he was born, and that was the beginning of the end.

He turned nine, which means that one of the worst days of my entire life happened nine years ago.

So, it tough being in a celebratory mood.

Having said that, I just wrote that I try – as best as I can – to shield the boy from what I can. This is no different.

I had his friends over for a pre-birthday party of sorts because it was Diwali this last Friday and his school was closed so that was fun.

Then we met up with the ABFF for a dinner of gyros and chix sandwiches (that was his choice).

 

Then we had a proper party with his friends and, just like last year, the Firecracker baked him a homemade cake with homemade frosting – low-carb(-ish, because I’m not a complete monster).

I don’t think he knows how hard I try to seem fine on his birthday.

That’s a good thing.

Pic from last year.

Location: earlier today, sleeping on my sister’s couch in the burbs
Mood: nostalgic
Music: I’m just tryinna make it last (Spotify)
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Swimming in Hoboken

Plus BBQ

My SIL invited the kid and me, plus the Firecracker and her kid, to head to her place this past Sunday because there was a trick-or-treat event happening in her building AND there was also a pool party to boot.

So, bright and early on Sunday, we packed up and headed out to the wilds of Hoboken

Unfortunately, we went right smack into the Trump rally that was here so, after 10 minutes of wandering, the police told us the only exit was on 8th Avenue.

We figured it’d be easier for us to go back into the subway, head back to Times Square, and then head down to the PATH station on 32nd.

Him: We haven’t even started and we’re already on an adventure!
Me: Evidently.

After a bit, we made it onto the PATH train and out to Hoboken, where my SIL picked us up and brought us back to her pad.

There, the kids immediately changed, and we went to her gym, which was ginormous!

This is just like a 1/3 of it. It was insanely big.

The kids were mainly interested in swimming, which is what they did for the next two hours, while the adults just chatted.

It was really lovely to me that my SIL and the Firecracker got along so well.

My back was still hurting so my SIL told me to check out the sauna there.

I wrote the Firecracker while I was in there.

Her: Wait, did you wear your jeans?
Me: Nah, I just stripped bare and sat there.
Her: You’re not even wearing underwear!?
Me: (laughing) I’m joking. I’m at least wearing my underwear.

It was honestly great but I didn’t stay all that long.

Afterward, we were all hungry, so we went to a local Hoboken joint for some BBQ.

Before heading back so the kids could trick-or-treat while we killed two bottles of white.

We stayed until late and then took the train back – we were home in less than 40 minutes, which is pretty impressive.

Not a bad way to spend a sunny Sunday.

Location: earlier today, FedEx, binding 1100 words for the kid
Mood: ache-y
Music: I said I’m alright, but maybe in the day, and no way in the night (Spotify)
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It looks like me

But it’s not me

Just did my last shoot for Scenic Fights for 2024.

I’m not slated to do any more shoots until 2025, which is great, because I’m pretty beat.

Ever since we started doing these shoots, I’ve got a newfound respect for content creators; it’s pretty draining to shoot these scenes over and over again until they’re perfect.

I just checked – I did my first shoot in the summer of 2019 and we’re now closing in on 2025. Close to six years.

Man, time is just sprinting by these days.

On that note, check out the above video – it looks like me but it’s actually not me at all!

It’s an AI generated video from my Scenic Fights producer.

Wild, right?

(The picture above *IS* of me, though).

On that note, I met up with my boss at the law firm for lunch the other day at the Bryant Park Grill.

I’ve been with the firm, in one form or another, since 2008 or so, so some 16 years.

That too reminds me that life is sprinting by.

Now that I’ve been a lawyer for close to a quarter-of-a-century, I’ve been lucky in that I can be very picky with the new cases I take on.

Him: Well, what in particular?
Me: It’s gotta be something interesting OR with a huge payout. Otherwise, my patience for dealing with other people’s nonsense is pretty thin these days.
Him: (laughing) I get that. OK, interesting cases or big check.
Me: Essentially.

Location: in front of my sink, wondering if it’s time to call in a plumber
Mood: So. Annoyed.
Music: crazy how we live our lives, we spent it all on borrowed time (Spotify)
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Harold is the worst Tan Hua plant ever

Crazy Average Asians

My mom gave me a cutting from her Tan Hua plant waaaaay back in 1993 – it’s the plant that was featured in Crazy Rich Asians,,

Here’s a super grainy part of that scene from the film.

Anywho, I named him Harold for no particular reason and he’s been with me all over New York City from my first apartment off Times Square to my son’s bedroom as of right this moment.

Like Leon in The Professional, Harold’s been with me everywhere I go.


Yes, I realize this is Natalie Portman’s character here, but I thought it was a better video.

Anywho, in Crazy Rich Asians, two things that they mentioned in the film is true: (a) it only blooms at night, and (b) it rarely ever blooms.

Harold? In 31 years, he’s never bloomed.

However, I’ve given cuttings of him to a few friends like Lviv, but – AFAIK – none of them have ever bloomed either.

This is Lviv’s plant from a while ago.

My mom, who’s got a phenomenal green thumb, has had her original plant bloom dozens of times and the fragrance is both amazing and indescribable.

Now, years ago, my buddy Brandon – the owner of Evolution Muay Thai, which is a great gym if you’re visiting or looking – is not only an amazing fighter and instructor, he’s also ridiculously good at cultivating plants.

He gave me a single leaf of his pothos plant and this is what it looks like now.

It’s been growing so aggressively that it grew through my lamp!

In any case, Brandon wrote me outtta the blue the other day to (a) show me a picture of his cutting, which looks spectacular:

…but also, (b) to tell me that it blooms so much that he finds rando blooms littering his floor.

I am sick with jealousy and a little irritated with Harold.

Here’s a timelapse of someone else’s plant blooming:

Me: I don’t get it; essentially, Brandon’s plant is you since it’s a cutting from you. He blooms, why can’t you?
Harold:
Me: You’re 31 years old and what have you done what do you have to say for yourself?
Him:
Me: Fine. Whatever.

Location: the kid’s room, looking at Harold and wondering what went wrong.
Mood: annoyed
Music: I’m holding on tight – someday we’ll get it right (Spotify)
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