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personal

Returning to My Hometown

And soon I will as well

Pretty much everything advanced in the world has a semiconductor chip in it.

And the world’s largest and most advanced semiconductor foundry is Taiwan Semiconductor Manufacturing Company (TSMC), which is headquartered in – what used to be a sleepy little town called – Hsinchu, Taiwan.

Pretty much spent every other summer there as a kid.

The day after the Firecracker and I got hitched, I immediately took a plane ride to Taiwan.

By the time you read this entry, we would already be starting our trip back home to America so it’s gonna be a bit outta order, but I wanted to tell you this little story first to set the whole thing up.

The last time I was in Taiwan was Monday, May 8, 2000, for a business trip, 25 years ago.

Purely by coincidence, my dad was there for the first time in 30 years because it was his turn to sweep the family grave – which is a Chinese tradition.

That meant that the last time he had been home was 1970.

I’d not gone home to Taiwan for a host of reasons, which we don’t need to get into right now.

Before you knew it, a quarter-of-a-century passed.

That’s my dad next to me and my uncle. Both are gone now. Yes, I age. Just very slowly. Dunno what I was thinking with my hair.

In any case, I know exactly two Chinese poems by heart.

One of them was written by a fella named He Zhizhang, sometime between 659 and 744 CE, called Returning to My Hometown.

You can look up the Chinese version, but the translation roughly goes something like this:

I was young when I left, old when I returned.
My accent’s the same but my hair’s thinned and grayed.
Kids from my old hometown don’t know who I am.
They laugh and ask, “Stranger, where’re you come from?”

It’s a lot more poignant in the original Chinese (and rhymes, to boot).

But – at least the way my dad explained it to me – the poem tells a story of a fella that left his hometown to make his fortune and returns home only to find that his home isn’t his home anymore.

Yeah, it kinda looks like his home but it also kinda doesn’t.

Just like him, he kinda looks the same but also kinda doesn’t.

And when he was there as a kid, everyone knew his name.

Now, he’s a stranger in the town that he knew like the back of his hand – to the point that the little kids now run up to him and laugh and point, “Check out this weird stranger who’s not from around here.”

And the town is a stranger to him.

That’s how I felt when I came home to the little town that I used to spend every other summer at growing up.

Except it’s not a little town at all. It was kinda the same but really not.

It’s all modern and high tech, nothing like I remember.

While the town I last saw in 2000 was pretty close to the one I remember from the 70s, 80s, and 90s, this one I just left is almost nothing like I know.

Legit, nothing like the town I last saw in 2000.

Nothing like the home I knew and loved.

I’m gonna tell you all about my Taiwan trip but I wanted to tell you that, during the whole trip, I saw old ghosts everywhere I went.

The sleepy town I knew so well is a bustling tech hub that’s home to the most powerful and advanced tech manufacturing factory on the planet.

To me, it was just where my grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins lived.

Where I slept above a garage that my grandma converted into a tiny little convenience store.

I was the grandson of a shop-owner who lived in town all her life and told of her daughter that lived far away in New York City.

Everywhere I looked, I saw glimpses of people and places I loved so very deeply, long gone that I’ll never see again.

You see that old lady in that picture up there? I loved her more than you can imagine.

For the first time in my life, I’ve come home and she isn’t here to greet me and I can barely type these words, that’s how much I loved – and still love – those two women you see above in that convenience store in a converted garage that no longer exists and never will again.

Just like so many things that I have loved and will always love.

I’m grateful for my son and the Firecracker. Truly.

Their being here with me made bearable the unbearable.

I realize may not look like an old man but I’m certainly not a young man.

And even if I age slowly, those around me do not and that is, in many ways, worse.

Now all the people and things I loved and love still are aging and disappearing.

And, if this trip has made me realize anything, I will soon as well.

Don’t know how much more loss I can bear.

Him: Aren’t you happy to be back?
Me: I am…I just…I am. (nodding) I am.

Location: on a hard wooden chair by a hard wooden table at a train museum
Mood: alone
Music: Someday, I’ll go (Spotify)
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So long and so completely

Happy birthday, mom

Two big things happened recently. The first was awful.

Saw a good buddy of mine the other day and he looked…off.

So, I asked him what was up. His wife answered for him.

His mother died this past Friday.

Instantly, I thought of my dad and my mom, and – of course – Alison.

When I lost my grandmother all those years ago, it was the first close loss I’d ever had.

The losses never stopped once it started.

That’s how it goes for everyone.

But no one’s really prepared for the loss of a parent, to say nothing of the loss of a spouse.

My dad said it himself when his own mom died, long after his own dad died:

I feel unmoored from my past, like a leaf in the wind or a ship on the waves.

Lines I stole from him years ago.

In any case, I took my buddy out for a drink over the weekend and just heard his (and his mom’s) story, which I’ll end here because it’s not mine to tell.

Me: This is why alcohol was invented, man.

The second was the opposite.

My own mom turned a milestone birthday, one that I’m grateful she was able to reach.

My sister came up with the brilliant plan to have many of our relatives from all over – including Taiwan – to video call her at the same time and wish her well.

As an aside, I usually put up pictures that don’t include my kid sister and only include my brother and me because, by the time she was born, I was already a fatty-fat-fat.

Anywho, getting back to my mom and the video call, she’s not one for pomp and circumstance but I could tell she was touched by the gesture.

I know that, at some point, I will have to go through what my buddy is going through and I’m not – at all – prepared for it.

Don’t think we’re ever prepared to say goodbye to the people we’ve loved so long and so completely.

Ok, that’s my sister when she came home from the hospital. I can put pics of her up so long as I’m not in them.

When I think of my mom, the faces you see above is the face I always see in my head when I think of her.

She’ll always be that young and beautiful to me.

I wish everyone we love can always stay.

Doubt that I’m alone in this.

But that’s not the deal, and we have to accept it, however hard it is.

Me: Even I have to go someday.
Him: But…what if you don’t, papa?
Me: That’s the deal, kid. We all have to go at some point so someone else gets a chance.
Him: (hopefully) But maybe it’ll be different for you.
Me: (laughing) Ok, kid. Maybe. We’ll just have to wait and see. Go do your math.

Happy birthday, mom.

Location: In the rain, picking up my treasure
Mood: nauseated
Music: seen it all the tears have fallen (Spotify)
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Construction time again

We really don’t have them all that long

Me: I just realized something.
Her: What?
Me: The kid’s gonna be moving out in just seven more years. That seems so insanely quick.
Her: (nodding) Yeah. We really don’t have them all that long.
Me: OMG, I’m so bummed out suddenly…

Came across this article recently from the oldest practicing – 101 – doctor in America.

He said that he thinks the single most important thing that people can do to stay healthy throughout their lives is to keep moving, something I just said myself recently.

So, obviously, I agree with that.

But, between my friend who just got discharged from the hospital, to me with my crap back, I feel that, at some point, it’s just fighting against the tides.

Everything is about maintenance, I’m not really growing anymore. I’m just trying to deteriorate at a slower rate than most people my age.

Which I think I’m accomplishing.

I’m just shocked that more people aren’t doing everything they can to stave off the inevitable.

Me: It just seems crazy to me – do people not think it’s gonna happen to them?
Her: Getting older? I think they don’t really consider that working out or eating healthfully will really make all that much of a difference.
Me: That’s crazy.
Her: (shrugging) I honestly don’t think a lotta people realize it’s an option.

On that note, I look at the kid and realize that, unlike me, he’s improving every day.

He’s getting stronger and smarter and better each day, and I’m thrilled for him and for it. That’s how it should be.

I just wish he doesn’t have to deteriorate like all humans do.

Then again, that’s what it means to be human, I suppose.

Location: my kid’s bunkbed, looking for missing screws from all the construction around here that have vibrated them off
Mood: prickly
Music: Everything counts in large amounts (Spotify)
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You really gotta stop posting pics of your kids

Telling our stories our way

One thing that we’ve been talking about over at Scenic Fights is the rise of AI and how you can take anyone’s likeness and make videos outta them, like this CBS reporter did:

It’s pretty impressive – and horrifying at the same time.

You can literally make anyone that you have pictures of, do anything.

Seriously, anything (I’ll let you fill in the blanks here).

On this note, you may have noticed that I don’t put up any pictures of my kid with his face showing.

I used to write his name in this blog, but I don’t even do that anymore – that’s the main reason I call him “the kid,” here.

As for why I did that, I’ve told you about before; which is that it’s not fair for me, as his parent, to take away his right to privacy/anonymity just because I can.

What if he doesn’t want to be known? What if he wants to write and tell his own story his way?

If I have years of posts about him complete with his face and everything, that will be all the more difficult.

But even in the back of my mind, I knew that technology would improve to the point where anyone could take a picture and animate it to make it appear that the picture person was doing something they never would.

In fact, that was the main subject of my lecture in Spain all those years ago.

The thing is, I never imagined that it would happen so quickly.

So, I’m doubly glad that I’ve not put up pictures of his face and will continue to do so – and I ask that you consider doing the same if you have kids.

If this whole #EpsteinFiles horror has taught us anything, it’s that there are some seriously messed up people out there.

Location: a bar, getting snockered
Mood: …snockered
Music: I’m diggin’ in, gettin’ ready for what comes (Spotify)
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Only when danger is far distant

Are you sure about that?

Took a knee to my eye and an elbow to my cheek the other day.

Fun times.

Her: You’re 52!
Me: I am not unaware.
Her: Are you sure about that, Logan!?

My SIL rang me up the other night because Alison’s mom was having a milestone birthday.

So, the next thing you know, the kid and I headed to her place to celebrate.

I spoke to her mom a while ago and she told me not to come for her birthday as it was too much trouble.

Me: You didn’t tell me it was [an important birthday]!
Her: I didn’t want to make a big deal.
Me: So, you wanna make me look like a jerk and not show up, lady?!
Her: (laughing) Thanks for coming.
Me: Of course!

My SIL brought some Italian cookies that I absolutely loved.

See, when I was a kid, my dad’s office was right next door to an Italian bakery.

Once in a blue moon, he’d bring home these exact cookies, and it was like the greatest day ever.

Man, I miss my dad.

Speaking of Italian things, we ended up just eating food from their local Italian joint.

I thought it was great but, evidently, I’m super easy because everyone else thought the food was only meh.

Me: I grew up super poor. This woulda been a feast for us.
Her: Well, we’re not eating the rest of it, so you can bring that home.
Me: Heck, yeah!

Speaking of when I was young, I read Machiavelli’s The Prince way back in 1996 when 2Pac released his like last album under that name (it was his only album I truly disliked).

I remembered the below quote from The Prince and was reminded of it recently what with everything going on in the news these days.

In general men are ungrateful, fickle, false, cowardly, covetous, dissimulating, hungry for profit and quick to evade danger. As long as you succeed and do them good, they are devoted to you entirely; they will offer you their blood, property, life and children… but only when danger is far distant; when danger approaches they turn against you.

Niccolo Machiavelli, The Prince, Ch. XVII

It’s funny how universal some things about humanity are and how they transcend both time and place.

I’m truly interested – and somewhat apprehensive – about what life will be like here in the US in a decade’s time.

Location: a lobster shop, buying a lobster roll
Mood: vexed
Music: The feds surely hope that they could finally nail me (Spotify)
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Mr. Lo and the Rats from NIMH

Friends are the receipt we have for a good life

Him: Can I watch something?
Me: Can you read instead?
Him: Do I have to?

If there’s anything that’s a source of friction between the kid and me, it’s reading.

As someone that grew up with a total of five channels – ABC, NBC, CBS, PBS, Channel 55 (which is an in itself entry one of these days) – and zero friends, books were my primary source of entertainment.

So, I don’t understand how my child is so adverse to reading.

Fair use

One book that I think about quite a bit, even now, was a book called Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of NIMH.

It’s a kid’s book but, roughly, the story goes like this:

Mrs. Frisby was a mouse married to a mouse named Jonathan, who was killed. Alone with just her son, Mrs. Frisby discovered that her house was about to be destroyed and needed to be moved, but this was impossible because her son Timothy was sick.

So, she pled with an owl, who refused to help her. Until the owl discovered that she was Jonathan’s widow. Then he helped her. And told her to find the rats of NIHM because they too knew Jonathan would help. They would help because she was his widow, and Timothy was his son.

You see, it turns out that Jonathan was one of only two mice that were left from NIHM. Because of the experiments there, they both had exceptionally heightened intelligence. Because Jonathan used that intelligence to help the rats there escape, the rats always felt in his debt.

Now, when Jonathan met Mrs. Frisby, he hid all this from her. Because he didn’t want her to think any differently of him. He just wanted a normal and quiet life with her.

Man, do I get that.

But that’s neither here nor there.

Anywho, as the story went on, Mrs. Frisby discovered that her husband had this entire crazy life before her and that people loved and respected him.

He gave up everything to just have a quiet life with her but the kindness that he gave to others lived on, long after the relationships faded.

The funny thing is that I always thought that I’d die before Alison. But I often thought of this story while she was pregnant and thought, If anything ever happened to me, I’m going leave her and the kid a crapton of good friends that will make sure the two of them are ok.

Unfortunately, as fate would have it, she died before me.

But I’m still amazed at all the friends I’ve collected throughout these years did exactly what I expected them to do – be there for the kid.

Like, just this morning, I was in Brooklyn picking up three (more) huge bags of clothes that my old college buddy Cappy and his wife saved for the kid.

I think that friends are the receipt you have that you lived a good life.

Alison’s friends have also helped us through these times, good and bad – like the ABFF and my SIL.

So, I’m grateful that we’ve both lived lives where we both collected brilliant and good people along the way, because, man, did we need them.

Me: Dude, just read a book. If it’s a good book, it’ll be just as good, if not better, than anything you see on TV.
Him: (resigned) Fine, papa. I’ll read…
Me: (laughing) It’s not a punishment, kid.

A lotta people don’t realize that NIMH was a real place.

It was.

It was short for the National Institute of Mental Health and the kicker was that it focused on mental health.

For someone struggling with insomnia and depression, the irony is unexpectedly deep.

Location: Earlier today, near Atlantic Avenue in Brooklyn
Mood: grateful
Music: Don’t take what’s not theirs, they don’t compare (Spotify)
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Moving water doesn’t freeze

Gather Ye Acorns

Ok, the year is 1986 and I’m a very fat, nerdy, “just-turned-a” teenager.

An anthology series by Steven Speilberg called Amazing Stories, which was a bit like a (then) modern take on the Twilight Zone, is must-watch-tv.

Because this was in the time before cable and YouTube and you either watched what everyone else watched or you had to sit on the sidelines as the other kids talked about it.

Man, I loved that show as a kid.

One of the stories that really sticks out to me was Gather Ye Acorns, which starred Luke Skywalker himself, Mark Hammill.

In it, Hamill’s a young man that meets a weird old dude – who’s actually a troll – that tells him to keep everything he’s ever loved, even if the world mocks or belittles him.

So, Hamill’s character does so and holds onto comic books, toys, and pop culture trinkets – for decades.

Just like me.

These are actually my buddies; I was more of an X-Men/Batman kinda kid.

Unfortunately, like the rest of the world, the young man turns into an old man, and a poor old man at that.

What’s worse is that, the whole time, people either think he’s silly – which is the best-case scenario – or a complete idiot.

His parents eventually disown him and toss him out.

He ends up alone and, eventually, homeless.

Now an old man, Hamill’s character is frustrated and angry, cursing the fact that he met the old troll and ruined his life.

A bitter old man, he ends up just waiting to die.

Yet he somehow finds himself at a collector’s auction where he’s mobbed because everyone wants his “junk” – alla which is now super valuable.

The story ends with Hamill’s character wealthy, vindicated, and – perhaps best of – finally seen by those around him.

I did exactly that – yes, sometimes with actual stuff, like comic books, old electronics and the like – but also with things in my head.

I remember telling my college buddy, Crawford that, “One day, I’ll be a swordsman.”

He laughed and said, “Well, one day, I’m gonna live on a sunny island like Jimmy Buffet and play the guitar on the beach.”

Guess what? We both did exactly what we said we’d do.

Because neither of us gave up on our “childish” dreams.

What a difference that makes, not giving up on the things you love.

That’s the thing that makes me different from other people, I think: Like Hamill’s character, I rarely gave up the things I loved, like peanut butter, Spam, kali, comics, short stories, etc.

That can be a disserve at times, but – by-and-large – it’s served me well.

When everyone else quit kali, I kept it up. For almost 20 years, I would go. Usually twice a week and then once a week when the classes got more sparse.

But I’d always practice by my lonesome at night.

This was 15 years ago. That was our old space.

Likewise, many of my very well-meaning friends – like the one way above and even my own father-in-law, caution me about continuing to wrassle with 20-somethings.

But I know that if I stop, that’s moment I’ll truly become become an old man.

See, I know that I’m mathematically 52 years old, but as long as I can keep doing the things I love, I don’t believe it.

There’s an old saying I like that goes, Moving water doesn’t freeze.

So, I gotta keep moving.

Her: Why don’t you run with me?
Me: Sorry, I need to train.
Her: So, lemme get this straight – you’d rather roll around with a buncha sweaty men, than jog with your amazing fiancé.
Me: …yes?
Her: (slowly nods) Ok then…

On that note, we just did a crazy cool thing on Scenic Fights.

I’ll tell you all about it when it finally happens.

Location: home, cutting a box to make it a shipping cost go from $76 to $24
Mood: committed
Music: I survived. I’m still breathing. I’m alive (Spotify)
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Grief is the price you pay for wonderful things

It is a concern

Headed back out to middle-of-nowhere Brooklyn again the other day to pick up the kid from his sleepaway camp.

He was grinning ear-to-ear when I got him.

Him: Papa!
Me: Hey, kiddo! Man, you got dark! I hope you put on some sunscreen. How was it?

He told me that he had a great time and made a lotta new friends, which was exactly what I was hoping to hear.

When we packed, I asked if he wanted to bring his guitar and he said yes, so we did just that.

Well, it turns out that it’s a good thing that we did because he ended up playing for everyone twice.

The first time was at a talent show…

…but the second time was on the last full day, where he played for the entire camp.

Me: What song did you sing?
Him: Riptide!

I shot the picture below to my MIL.

Me: I wish we could do something about his quiet and reserved nature…
Her: It is a concern

The only thing that bummed me out was that he told me that when it was his turn to talk about Alison, he said that he was ok because he didn’t remember her enough to miss her.

That absolutely gutted me, but I didn’t say anything, because we have to let true things be true.

Then again, if he remembered her, he wouldn’t be functional.

Because all she ever wanted was to be his mom and he would have been devastated at losing her.

On that note, he did get super sad that night at dinner.

Him: (sadly) I miss all my friends.
Me: (gently) Then that means you had a wonderful time. Grief is the price you pay for wonderful things.
Him: But it’s so hard.
Me: (nodding) We’re always gonna miss wonderful things when they’re gone. That’s why I miss your mom all the time, because she was my wonderful thing.

Location: heading out to dinner at the Flatiron to meet my SIL’s new fella
Mood: curious
Music: I got a lump in my throat ’cause you’re gonna sing (Spotify)
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Two college lifetimes

For my boy, of course!

Mom: Was that today? I forgot.
Me: (gently) That’s ok. I forgot too until [my sister] reminded me. It’s good that we forgot today. It’s not like we’d forget him.
Her: Oh, I’d never forget him.
Me: I know, mom.

My dad died eight years ago this week.

I graduated college waaaaaaaay back in 1993. For a solid decade or two afterward, I told time in terms of “college lifetimes.”

Like, eight years woulda been two college lifetimes.

I remember when 1997 rolled around; I marveled that I’d spent four years in college and now, another four years had passed.

College seemed like it would go on forever.

And now, it’s been over for 32 years, which is such a kick in the head.

It doesn’t feel like my dad and Alison have been gone for two college lifetimes, and yet they have.

I suppose the only small solace in all this is both my mom and I forgot that my dad died this week, and that’s such a good thing.

Don’t wanna celebrate, or even memorialize his death, just his life, and how much it meant to me.


My dad drove an old beat-up blue Toyota.

The man coulda bought any car he wanted but that car never gave him a lick of trouble, and he loved it, so he drove it until it practically fell apart.

My siblings and I are pretty much the same way as him.

I used to take the train to Flushing and my dad would pick me up at 老地方, or “the regular spot,” for years in his blue whip.

There was one time, he picked me up with a mischievous grin on his face.

Him: You smell anything?
Me: (getting into the car) Yeah. What is that?
Him: Open the glove compartment.
Me: (opening it) OMG, you got a Fontana’s gyro for me!
Him: (nodding) With extra meat, just like you always ask for.

Swear to god, I had no idea that I’d replay that moment a thousand times in my head.

That was my dad. No one picks me up from the regular spot anymore.

I don’t have him or my regular spot anymore.

He woulda loved the kid so much too.

And he’d be so amused at how much he eats, like me.

Me: Oh man, thanks, dad. You’re the best!
Him: (waving his hand) For my boy? Of course! Just remember to treat your kids the same way.
Me: (laughing) Kids? Me? 

Location: Hoboken, for three minutes, before heading back
Mood: nostalgic
Music: I’ve lost count, all the detours that we take (Spotify)
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Nuthin like it was for someone else

You pay to be left alone

Her: Hey, are you free to join some work colleagues for dinner?
Me: Sure – where and when?

The Firecracker had a fancy work dinner to attend, so I gave her some suggestions, including the really nice restaurant that I took her to on our first proper dinner date years ago.

She booked a reservation but then one person couldn’t make it, so I showed up in his stead.

It’s funny because someone mentioned on the Firecracker’s social media why we would want to eat in an empty restaurant, and we talked about that exact topic that night.

Me: (to the guests) The thing about living in NYC is that when you pay a ridiculous amount of money in a restaurant for food, you’re really paying for people to not be on top of you.
Firecracker: Yeah, most places are crowded and loud. You pay for space and quiet.

In any case, I got my usual burger…

…and a drink.

Afterward, I gave some of them – who were in town visiting – a tour of the St. Marks area.

Along the way, we walked by some old haunts of mine, including:

Spent most nights there with my friends Francis and Rain but that’s a story for another day.

We ended up at Criff Dogs…

…and Please Don’t Tell, the speakeasy that we didn’t make it into last time and actually made it in this time.

I may or may not have ordered some hot dogs.

Firecracker: I swear to god, he has a wooden leg.
Me: I’m a growing boy.

Afterwards, we all went our respective ways but I actually, sent Rain a shot of Cafe Orlin/Marlou Bistro…

…and his response was typically him.

Without telling his story, I think part of the reason he left New York was that the New York that he loved left him.

I think that’s why a lotta people leave this place.

There’s almost nuthin left of the New York City that I once knew.

But that’s ok for me.

Because I gotta figure that the New York City that I knew is nuthin like it was for someone else who came before me.

And it’s time for someone else to have their New York City.

Me: I miss the kid.
Her: He’ll be back this weekend.
Me: (nodding)

Location: 10AM, shooting a shirtless video for Scenic Fights and then eating $58 worth of carbs immediately afterward
Mood: so. so. so. so. full.
Music: In New York, you can be a new man (Spotify)
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