Me: Has there ever been a thing I’ve made that you truly disliked? Her: The chicken hearts. Me: Was it the flavor, the consistency, or the general thought of them? Her: Yes
Had to pick something up from someone in my nabe the other day and I laughed when I got to her door.
I live on the upper level of a small building and I’m always telling people to go UPSTAIRS and not DOWNSTAIRS to deliver or pick up anything.
Nine times outta 10, they’ll ignore or miss that information, and I’ll have to come to outside to get them from the downstairs area.
I’m guessing that this lady had something similar with people ringing the wrong doorbell.
The Firecracker is getting used to being with someone that enjoys cooking.
We have this arrangement, similar to mine with Alison, where one person cooks and the other cleans.
It’s been working out well.
Made her some Chinese tomatoes and eggs the other day and she was skeptical, but she and the kids loved it.
On that note, I’ve been watching this channel called Made by Lau, which I use to supplement the recipes that my mom and dad taught me.
Like all home cooks, my parents never had any recipes – they just knew how to make dishes, so the website gives me better measurements and ideas for changes.
Speaking of food, I forgot to mention that the Firecracker got me a heart-shaped box for St. Valentine’s Day last month.
Except – like the previous year – it was fulla dried meats.
After the Firecracker and I came back from her surprise shower, we then dashed off to our local dive bar – Malachy’s – and met up with my old roomie, Buckley.
We actually lived in the same dorm waaaaaay back in 1991 (!) and kept in touch after I left.
When he moved into the city, he and I became roomies and, after a few years, he and I bought our apartment together.
I remember that my dad had questions.
Dad: You…and Buckley…are buying an apartment? Together? Me: Yeah, why? Him: Well…is there anything else you wanna tell me? Me: (puzzled) No, why? (thinking) OMG! No, we’re just friends. And poor. We’re poor friends. We can’t afford a place alone, so we need to pool our money together. Him: Oh… Me: (quickly) Not that there’s anything wrong with that. We’re just poor.
This is us in 1998, right before we bought the place.
I dunno what we were thinking with those sweaters or my goatee.
In any case, we met up at Malachy’s because that and Big Nick’s – which is where the main picture was taken – were the two greasy spoon dives that we always went to.
It’s weird. He looks like him just…older. And I’m the same.
We were literally kids when we met – like 17. And now his son is not that far off from the age when we first met.
And I’ve been chatting with Rain a lot these days.
He’s just dealing with some real estate issues and that’s kinda what I do.
That’s a pic of us back in 1998 downtown. I think at a joint called Stingy Lulu‘s (or Yaffa Cafe).
That means that every time you remember thing, there’s a (high) chance you’ll alter that memory a bit and those alterations keep piling up until you can’t trust your own memories anymore?
And that’s why I wish I had better pictures/videos to remember my possible pasts with.
Luckily, I have my friends to help me remember those memories.
Me: He was a quant at Long Term Capital, right? Him: No, he was a programmer – he was on his way to being a quant when it imploded. Me: Gotcha – I didn’t know that.
Unfortunately, I don’t have Alison here to remember the memories that mattered the very most to me.
Ah, fuck…
This is what my room looked like when it was just me and Buckley – two bachelors in the city.
A dragonfly from this entry in 2008. I have questions about that day but no one to ask.
I rushed out the door of my in-laws because the Firecracker was all by her lonesome for Xmas.
For various reasons, she’s spent a lotta Christmases alone and I didn’t want her to have to do it again.
In any case, the train into the city was standing-room-only packed and this French woman was behind me and her teenage son – who was sniffling and coughing – was in front of me speaking to her with me in the middle of them.
I’m gonna get so sick, I thought.
More on that in a couplea entries.
Her: I was young. It was like the early 2000s. Me: Oh man, I was already in my 30s then. Her: Yeah, cause you’re old Me: (sighing) Well, thanks for not saying “AF” after that sentence this time. Her: You’re welcome – but I was thinking it. Me: (nodding)
Do you remember when the Firecracker and I went to Pasadena together and we stopped by Tiffany’s?
While she was there, she tried on engagement rings, and we talked about what she liked and what she didn’t like.
Welp, I made some mental notes.
A few months ago, I ended up buying a Past, Present, and Future ring for her in her size because it just felt like it was time.
Was just waiting for the right moment to give it to her.
While I was walking around the hood the other day, walked past a local restaurant that we love and chatted with a young woman about maybe doing it there.
The young woman I spoke to was all for it.
Her: Are you available for a quick call sometime on Monday? I would love to discuss the details with you to surprise her! We have our Skylight room available that day. Me: YES! Thank you!
There’s a LOT more to that story but we can end that part here.
Coincidentally, both my brother and SIL, as well as the Firecracker’s sister and BIL were in town, so I invited them to come by afterward to have dinner.
It was my brother and his wife that were kind enough to come early and set up to take pictures and videos of everything – and on Christmas Day to boot.
Decided to do it on Christmas Day since everyone was free and the restaurant had time and space.
One of these days, I’ll tell you how I got the Firecracker to come along without arousing suspicions.
So, after I left my in-laws, I hightailed it back to Manhattan and, with alla my gear and bags, went to the restaurant to make sure everything was ready.
Then I went back to home where I saw the Firecracker.
I think we know our people innately, and everything else is just confirmation.
I set her apart pretty much right when I met her.
So, I figured I should tell her that in a way that was also set apart.
Me: I promised you that you wouldn’t spend any more Christmases alone. So, Firecracker, will you marry me? Her: (nods) Yes. Me: (laughing) Well, alright…
My buddy around the way had a major milestone birthday the other day, right after we’d gone swimming over at Steel’s.
So, the Firecracker and I rushed home – already stuffed – to change to meet up with them.
The party was in a restaurant across the street from Alison’s office, so I had a few moments in my head, but we’ll just end that part of the story there.
When we arrived, the Maitre’d brought up to the lower level, which my friends had taken over for the party.
The Firecracker and I got to sit with the birthday boy, which I was super flattered by.
Me: I met Dave like 27 years ago. Him: No, it was 24 and a half years ago – I know this because we met the day I started at this company and I’m coming up on 25 years soon. Me: (laughing) I stand corrected.
Tried my best to not eat that much at Steel’s because I knew the food here wouldn’t disappoint…
…and it assuredly didn’t.
I was asked to say a few words, so I did.
This woman once said, Good things happen slowly, bad things happen fast. You don’t really know who’s gonna be important in your life and how life is gonna unfold until years go by. And somehow 25 years have passed. There are at least four people in this room that didn’t exist when we first met….I knew him [first] as a co-worker, and then my drinking buddy in the neighborhood – (to kids) we drank a lotta water – now I see him as a father, as a husband, and all these other things and it’s wonderful to see. It’s wonderful to see your friends in these different capacities that you didn’t know they were capable of.
Everything I said was true.
(c) Ken Landau
RE Mike was there, along with his wife, and so many other people that I met throughout the years.
I gotta say, the very best thing about getting older is the friends that keep you company along the way.
There was a killer premium open bar but, ever since the Surgeon’s party, I’ve been wary about overindulging…
…although I did cheat a bit on my no/low-carb rule and had a touch of cake.
There’s a lot more that happened but those are all other people’s stories so I’ll just say that we had an amazing time.
The Firecracker and I took a long walk from the East Side to the West Side, stopping at Madison Square Park to look at the tree…
…and take some pictures.
Her: Thanks for always including me to these kinda things. Me: (puzzled) Of course. We’re a team. Her: (smiling) I like that. Me: Plus, I like to show you off. You’re super hot. Her: (laughing)
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)
Years ago, I was chatting with a female friend of mine and she said that she and her parents were having a bit of a disagreement.
Her parents wanted her to stop bringing by every guy she ever dated home.
Me: I would think they’d wanna meet who their daughter is dating. Her: They do. The issue is that they end up liking them and then they disappear and are never seen again. Me: Well, stop being such a tramp. Her: (laughing) Logan!
Me: I often look at couples and have a hard time figuring out if they’re dating or father-daughter. Her: I wonder if people look at us and think that. Me: With my youthful looks?! Her: I’m obviously joking since you’re Chinese and I’m not. Me: That PLUS my youthful looks, yeah? Her: OMG, how are you this vain? Me: Practice, really.
There’s this song I’ve been talking about with you for close to two decades now – Starsailor’s Good Souls.
We have our issues, of course, but even there, she’s uniquely kind.
For example, after a major fight we had, she bought a couples counseling session and followed up with an assignment for both of us to read: Talk to me like I’m someone you love, which is honestly a great book for any couple to read.
I mean, even that title alone would be an amazing thing to say in an argument – I know this because she has with me.
Aimer, ce n’est pas se regarder l’un l’autre, c’est regarder ensemble dans la même direction.
To love is not to look at one another: it is to look, together, in the same direction.
It’s surprising how much an old Chinese man from NYC and a much younger southern belle from North Carolina sees the world in the same way.
I suppose that is a great foundation for any good relationship.
Her: Do you love me? Me: Come on, I sweat you like a summer day. Her: I don’t know what that means. (thinking) I wish you’d say it sometimes. Me: (laughing) Sure thing, Firecracker. Of course I love you.
The other thing about my dad/family was something else that I also learned in Cornell: When I took my first Chinese language class, the teacher asked how to say “maternal grandmother” in Chinese.
I confidently said, “阿婆 (ā pó)” but was corrected, it was “外婆 (wàipó).”
I’d never heard of 外婆 (wàipó) before, we never used that term nor had I ever heard it before.
Me: I was so embarrassed that I got that wrong. Why didn’t we use the right way of saying it for [mom’s mom]? Father: Do you know what 外婆 means? It means “outside grandmother.” That’s what you call the wife’s mother because, in Chinese culture, the mother’s family and side doesn’t count – they’re outsiders and not really part of the family. That’s wrong, I think, and offensive. Your mom’s family is as much a part of our family as mine is.
For all my dad’s traditions and pressure, he was a decent and fair man and that story perfectly encapsulates him.
It was a simple but profound thing, which makes sense as he was both a simple and profound man.
And I think that a major reason the three of us – my sister, brother, and myself – have been so successful in life.
Moreso than the education and the accolates.
Because I suppose we always knew that, no matter what, our parents loved us and always would.
Yeah, if there’s one thing that I’d like to pass on from my dad to my own kid, it’s that.
My dad died August 24th, 2017, seven years ago this week.
I love him every bit right now as I did seven years ago and always will.
Even though, at times, I wonder if he knew.
Me: (angrily) Yeah, well, you wait. My kid is gonna be successful and happy. It won’t matter to me if he goes to an ivy league or not. Him: You’re threatening me with a happy and successful grandkid? (laughing) Go ahead. Because that’s exactly what I want too. When you’re a dad yourself, you’ll understand. I’m trying to keep you all safe.
And, of course, I totally care if he makes it into an ivy league or not.
Just maybe – maybe – not quite as much.
Did you know that no two tigers have the same stripes?
A tiger’s pattern is as unique as human fingerprints AND not only is a tiger’s fur striped, but its skin is also striped as well.
It has hidden beauties you wouldn’t know about while it was alive.
This also means that every tiger is different from every other tiger, despite all outward appearances.
My dad may have been Chinese, but he was so different in many ways and uniquely mine.
I wish he was still here.
But I suppose you already knew that.
The picture above is the day my parents met my son.
It’s one of only a handful of pictures I have with all three of them.
The main picture is another of the few – precious – images I have of my father with my son.
I have none with him, Alison, and my son. Zero fucking pictures.
Not a single goddamn one.
And everything went to shit after that picture.
But, for a moment in time, that was the happiest I ever was because my entire family was alive and happy for five days.
I didn’t yet know that would be all I would ever get. Ever.
Me: Did you grow up with a Good Humor or Mr. Softie? Her: Neither. Just some guy in truck selling ice cream. Me: That sounds like a child abduction plot. Her: (rolling eyes) It was just a guy in a white truck. Me: You’re kinda proving my point here.
It’s been so hot around here lately that I don’t want to really do anything but that’s not fair for the Firecracker, who’s young and wants to actually go out and enjoy life.
Me? I’m loathe to leave the pad unless strictly required.
We were gonna go on another cruise, or even head to Taiwan for the summer but stuff happened to change our plans, which is a post for another time.
So, like I said in my last entry, we compromise by just getting drinks and food around the way.
Ergo, we’ve been hitting up different bars in the hood, including our usual place for frozen drinks with umbrellas…
…local Chinese joint with awesome happy hours…
…and fried carbs.
Plus, a bar with great burgers and games.
All-in-all, it’s not a bad way to spend a summer – hot chick, great air conditioning, and greasy bar food.
Her: Burgers aren’t really my thing. Me: God, the kid and I love burgers. I could eat them every day. Well, I supposed I’d have to balance it out with a salad every other day. Her: I’m glad you recognize that. Me: Yeah. I’m the healthiest unhealthy person you know.
Location: My childhood neighborhood with the Firecracker and the Frenchman and his family
Mood: injured
Music: don’t know why sometimes we seem so apart (Spotify) Subscribe! Like this post? Tell someone about it by clicking a button below.
After the kid’s recital, a classmate of the kid, the other kid’s family, the Firecracker, and my MIL all went to get dinner at Jacob’s Pickles, which I mentioned in passing to you over a decade ago.
I’d gone there twice before, this time marking my third time.
Me: I can really only come here every five years because it’s so carby and the portions are so large. Him: How large? Me: Laughably. You’ll see.
Now, I can pack away a lotta protein, fat, and fiber but something about carbs really fills me up fast.
Because he just did his recital, told the kid he could get anything he wanted so he asked for the chicken and pancakes, which are ginormous.
We split that and hardly made a dent in it.
Also, I ordered the 32 oz hard apple cider – all for my lonesome – which was a mistake.
Me: We have to walk home. Her: Why? Me: We gotta work off alla this food.
Now, the Mother’s Group – whom I’ve not seen in years just because one member moved to Taiwan and the others had kids that went to different schools – were meeting up at the pier by the Hudson River so we went there next.
I find it funny – and kinda sweet – that when the ladies write everyone, including me, they just write, “Ladies…”
Look, I’m just happy to be included.
By the time the kid, the Firecracker, and I finally arrived, they’d been there for hours.
But I was able to catch up with everyone.
Me: You spent COVID in Taiwan? How was it? Her: It was awesome! Totally normal. Me: Oh man, that was not my experience at all.
It was super late when we all got home.
Firecracker: Your friends are all really nice. Me: I like to think so.
The kid had his school party, the recital, the dinner, and this last get together all on the same day, so he crashed hard.
I hope he’s creating good memories for himself.
Think that’s all any parent really hopes for outta this kinda stuff.
Speaking of food, I forgot to mention that the Firecracker got me a heart-shaped box for St. Valentine’s Day last month.
