Tag: Home

Daughter-Daddy

Before my daughter arrived, I had heard of other people’s birth complications which required C-section etc…

So we took up Lamaze classes, and I felt “effeminated” among men and women with pillows.

When I drove A. home the hospital  offered to wheel her out (already strapped in the car seat to begin with). In the parking lot (A.’s first outing) some passerby said “Oh, how cute”.

I realized then I got “china” to be cherished and well-guarded.

The drive home was unnecessarily longer than usual (with light rain to dramatize the scene). At home, we had friends already with welcoming signs.

“Welcome home A.”

She was indeed special and welcome to this world (later, she would experience the Northridge earthquake, LA riot, dot.com burst, single-parented, 9/11 and great Recession. But that was for later).

A. grew up calling me Papi (after the baby sitter’s language).

A. has an amazing sense of coordination. This showed in her taking up Hip-Hop at an early age, and went on to win in competition (no 1 USA).

She collaborated with her “brown” friends (the new valley girls).

And conducted herself beyond reproach.

Any dad would be lucky to have a daughter like A.

She now in Jr College, juggling P/T job and school.

I used to have the same work load while in college.

Time passes more quickly when you are busy. It keeps you out of trouble.

On Father’s Day, I always received her self-made cards. This year, as in years earlier, always with pictures from A.’s childhood. The bond will never be broken.

Every man deserves a special relationship like this.

It redeems us .

You know you can look at yourself in the mirror when your daughter said “we’re tight”.

The role of the alpha males has evolved over the years: from protector to mentor, from “lord” to buddy.

This year A. sent me a picture with us wearing same T-shirts (in design and size).

Now, that’s team. It doesn’t matter that in the photo, she was a child in over-sized T-shirt (for some day, when she reaches middle-age, I will be fading away).

For that moment, as a team, we were like one, tight.

Daughter-Daddy. No business travel, no airport food.

Just sitting on the floor, at eye level. Give Daddy a hug, a kiss.

It’s like communion. I was absolved and consecrated.

It’s not wrong doing or right doing. It’s given that we are imperfect.

What matters is, like any other species, we are built biologically, to transfer our survival and artistic genes. Do this, don’t do that. Eat this, no, not that (poisonous).

So, we navigated through the Valley (San Fernando) and yes, Mountain peak (Grand Canyon). I kidded that A. was a “jungle boy”, when she took off her shirt on one hot day at the peak of the Aztec pyramid. Back in urban jungle, she is surrounded by her Hip-Hop friends. The girl is popular, and well-liked. I would rather you judge me by looking at how well she turns out.

You see, the best thing in life came in small packages. And even better, when it’s from above. A. didn’t have to send me any gift at all. She herself has already been one.

Daughter-Daddy. I promised her my 555th blog will be dedicated to her, for keep’s sake. That future might see more incidents and mishaps, but has one constant: Daughter-Daddy: tight.

Honor roll

I attended a power breakfast this morning.

Neither Presidential nor Congressional.

Only elementary honor students and designated parents.

Something about “the magic”.

New Report System (Most improved etc… as opposed to traditional A,B,C grading).

I am proud of my daughter.

She exhibits all the traits of an up and coming Asian student (the model minority). Tiger Mom, you know (translation: I got “Tiger” spouse).

Just then did I notice Bonnie from Penn State, and how she was introduced as one “who knows every student by name”.

That’s a tall order to know each kid and affirm them.

Where would we be today without those “Bonnie’s”.

I am a TK (Teacher kid).

I know the  price a TK has to pay (as his mom was at service of thousands of other kids).

Mom, could you tug me to bed (instead of grading school papers late into the evening).

Society is highly hypocritical when it comes to children’s right and

pet’s right etc…

But as soon as we grow up, Bam! we got put into boxes (in California, latest  census measures showed ” alarming decline of non-Hispanic white group etc…”).

Indignez Vous?

The author of the above title also joint-authored the UN Human Right charter. Still going strong at 93. Still fighting with every liter of hot blood.

I want to leave behind two beautiful kids, who will give so much to the sustainability of spaceship Earth.

It’s always noble of parents to say they want better lives for their children. This was true with my Mom.

Now it’s my turn.

Have you ever paid attention to the hyphen (-) key on top line of the key board.

We all are “hyphens” in between generations,  not “dumb” nodes.

We adapt, evolve and discriminate (in a good sense), to uplift and elevate next generations. Net-Geners will have longer life expectancy, but conversely,

they will bear the brunt of  financial and environmental burden.

I felt sorry for having bought  the water bottle trend back in the 90’s.

For you, perhaps, the SUV‘s.

Global warming wasn’t the act perpetrated by any single person.

The school handed out my child’s honor roll.

But it’s our responsibility to make sure she get breakfast roll, without accompanied toxicity.

America is still number one in some areas, among them, obesity and rate of incarceration. Yoga, baby, yoga.

The P in Panera

Stay the course. Best time to invest is during the Recession.

Those are Panera secret sauce: persistence and perseverance.

I first noticed Panera on my way back from San Jose. It’s either a Starbuck stop or Panera stop.

But Panera has a fireplace. The place feels like home, smells like home-baked bread.

Panera won me over.

In fact, right after this blog, I am going over there to buy my multigrain baguette.

Heartland America (St Louis, OK, TX) showed us the “dust bowl” courage: rugged survivalist, in the face of bubble bursts

(2000 on the West Coast, and 2008 East Coast, dot.com and financial respectively.

So Goodbye Yellow Brick Road.

Dorothy, go home!

ET go home.

Everyone, go home!

Retrenching. Retooling. Reinventing. (Paltrow sings country music these days).

Back to the basics. Tackle, block, tackle and block.

The cycle will come back. But this time, it gets spread around in a globalized economy.

Look at the G-20’s. You got countries that weren’t there back in 1980. In fact, it used to be G-7.

Back to our secret sauce: invest during the downturn, invest in people and open new storefronts.

It’s home that we, wanderers, all look for in our long journey. Early imprints. Mother’s home-made soup. What do you think Campbell’s chicken and noodle soup is doing? Selling by packages of four. Might as well during this flu season.

Wait until Christmas. Then you really want to run home, where the fire-place is on and the oven has something in it. If you can’t make it, Panera will be your second place beats out Starbuck, your third place.

 

Unsung heroes

I channel surfed last night. C-SPAN 3 covered the Memorial in PA for flight 93, those unsung heroes who diverted terrorist plot 9 years ago.

The uncut shot kept panning the vast expanse of Pennsylvanian field, future home of Flight 93 Memorial.

Graphically speaking, it was boring. MOS (mid out sound) since the mike did not reach far enough to hear the VIP conversation (First Lady and former FL were among them).

In contrast, we could see and hear Terry Jones, instant celebrity for his threat and now recanted threat, just fine.

His Campbell-soup-like-15 minutes of fame.

An article in the Washington Post says it all “tyranny of the moment”.

The Web democratizes so much that the Gainesville pastor gains a PR upper hand (which makes Kansas pastor who has protested at military funerals envy).

He even grew his signature mustache to come across as credible (it’s a step up from preaching just to his extended families).

I am sure he will have fans and followers if opened a facebook page.

Meanwhile, real heroes who took action and paid the price with their lives barely got their names on the marble.

Such is the state of the world as we are living it.

Imagine flight 93 heroes debating the consequences of their action. No, there weren’t any time. They just went ahead and did the right thing.

Brought to mind my favorite quote: “he is no fool to lose that which he cannot keep, to gain that which he cannot lose”.  American martyrs don’t get noticed,

since it’s not in the US culture to condone and celebrate such an act. But it did happen, on that fateful day, which we often forget due to tyranny of the moment.

 

reverse culture shock

After a transitory lay over at a third country, I found myself in one of the entry points, in this case, Atlanta:

Southern hospitality, chicken recipe, and of course, airport price tagd. Ten bucks, with no drink. Welcome back, Mr Nguyen.

I prepare my breakfast now. No longer a Saigon sitting down on a low stool, ordering broken rice and pork chops (with fish sauce and hot chili pepper over it).

Instead, breakfast consists of oatmeal, coffee and grapefruit juice. All the supposedly healthy diet for sterilized living.

The news said we were pulling out of Iraq, but no we don’t. Thousands will be staying behind until next year.

Blair is still the un-appointed spoke person on the subject, and even foreshadowing the next war.

This long holiday will bring back workers who are exhausted, consumers who are burned out and soldiers who face labor-surplus economy.

Even the Web is purported to be dead (Chris Anderson of Wired Magazine). In its wake, we found thousand of offsprings aka apps.

In telecom, we thought caller ID was an intrusion. Wait until call centers crawlers pulled up every bits of credit info about you and I before we got a “hello, may I help you”.

It will be caller FICO.

It wouldn’t be strange if the fast food industry started to size their serving according to customer’s profile the way Coke added sugar according to regional preferences:

larger burgers in the South, trimmer ones for NY City, for instance. BK was sold for a whopping 3.3 B yesterday. Location, location, location. Instant access to thousands of location worldwide, near McDonald’s. K Mart, even during bankruptcy, still made a profit on prime real estate.

Back to reverse culture shock. I got up early, way early this Labor Day weekend. In the dark, I wondered where I was. Then I realized things haven’t changed a bit. All those awful stats such as 4% unemployment back in 2000, now nearing 10 in 2010 etc… Land of the free. There are tons of work to be accomplished, but Congress is not going to take on serious tasks before going home. So they say. I went to a Metro PCS store just to be sent home at 9:15 AM. Sorry, HQ won’t open until another hour (KS).

I understood Metro to be a MVNO, hence no instant access to Sprint central computer. I understood America original design of checks and balances. I understood the victimized mentality of citizens facing big bureaucracy. Speed of change varies according to institutions. But it is still a shock to come back to a place where services are not up to standard, but pricing remains at yesterday’s high. We are trapped in a time warp, thinking we are still in post-war period, when the GI bills will make everything OK for returnees i.e. a Chevy in the driveway, and a chicken in the pot. Well, look at car sales figures. GM predicts worse sales, and of course, BK was sold. It is the equivalent of Pepsi on the chopping block.  Give me a few more days. I hate it, but will have to get used to it. Remember 2000 and Y2K? Every decade comes with its own black eyes.

 

Mother’s memorial and modern madam

It’s been a few days since full moon. But people here in HCMC still burn incense and ceremonial money for the dead, most particularly, for deceased mothers. Meanwhile, there is a class of women entrepreneurs who don’t mind drink you under the table, drive to work and in every aspect, personify the softer side of Saigon.

There is a list of richest women published yearly, from real estate to private university, and everything in between.

So, it’s either the upper crust, or those who sell lottery tickets in the rain.

Vietnamese lit often depicts mothers as stern but strong : handling everything in the back room, yet giving credits to their husbands, who mainly serve as greeters. We got the Trung sisters, and Ms Trieu who fought the Chinese invaders.

A new class of single moms have emerged to shoulder all burdens of modern life.

I took my mom’s picture back in the mid-80’s. So it was a bit of a surprise to see the miniature version placed in the back of Van Hanh Temple in Dalat.

I looked twice to find her name plate. She was and in spirit still is my mother, yet known as a teacher to others. She taught me life lessons e.g. be considerate always, put others’ need before your own, and never forget where you came from.

I used to stop by her assisted living apartment to visit, just to find a full meal waiting for me. Today’s equivalent of a Sheraton buffet.

Modernity is pressed for time. And traditional bon vivant is the sacrificial lamb. Burger and drink, want fries with it?

With its current rate, we might see not only the living but also the dead here end up with fast food.  For now, everyone still use ceremonial money and toss rice into the air, to be in harmony with the spirits world. Peace in this life and the next.

Anyone who knows a little bit about history of Vietnam, wouldn’t say it’s a machismo culture.

Watch out for Tiger mom here. Single-handedly, they once did what the whole Trans-Pact Partnership could barely reach an agreement i.e. how to contain and eject unwanted invaders.