Story Archive - July 2006

A Faint Smell of Strawberries (07/29/2006)

Wit is educated insolence. - Aristotle

Late last week, an old high school teacher of mine named Fr. McCurdy passed away. I took AP English from him my senior year of high school and he was tied for my favorite teacher in high school with my junior year creative writing teacher. I attended his wake Thursday night and saw faces I haven't seen in a long while. Fr. McCurdy's cousin read from a letter that McCurdy had written around six years ago discussing his memories of his grandfather. It was nice to hear; the letter was so clearly in his voice.

Though Fr. McCurdy taught English, as most good English teachers, he used the novels we read as tinder for discussions on the ethics, religion and the world. Those discussions were the reason that his students became so attached to him where ever he went. He had accumulated an amazing amount of wisdom and brilliant method of sharing it through the leading of discussions. I was usually silent in the class during the discourse taking in everything and thinking about the topic. One day early on in the year, McCurdy ended our discussion with the comment, "Jordan, why don't you summarize this for us." I did. I did it well. He approached me after class to compliment my summary. After that, around half of the class discussions, especially those I sat through silently, would end with a call to me, "Jordan, why don't you summarize this for us." Here are my favorite memories:

1) Before class one morning I was talking with my good friend Adzar. The class was around ten minutes from starting and there were few students in yet. We were having a disagreement over some topic that I don't remember. When we reached an impass in the argument, Adzar pointed at me and defiantly said: "Trial by stone!" I cried back in my best Skeksis voice, "Trial by stone!" The battle was on and we faithfully re-enacted it complete with Adzar huddled against the wall as I acted out stripping him of his robes. Most of the random students assumed we were being crazy, as usual, but Fr. McCurdy was chuckling to himself clearly recognizing the bizarre scene.

2) Papers were handed back after reading Widle's "The Picture of Dorian Gray." I would always smell my paper when it was returned, because if it had the scent of cigarette smoke upon it, it implied it was good enough to get a second reading while Fr. McCurdy was smoking. I was very proud the first time I got an A paper and asked Adzar, "what did you get'" Adzar proudly showed me his A paper as well. Fr. McCurdy chided us, "Guys, grades are not a competition." I said, "Well, I guess the pot rolls over to the next paper." Fr. McCurdy commented, "There's a pool' Well then, I'd like to put in some money. I promise I have no influence over the winner."

3) After reading Ellison's "The Invisible Man" we were having a discussion on racism in modern America. The one black student in the class was silent through the discussion and Fr. McCurdy asked if he would share how racism had affect his life. During his sharing he said that racism was an annoyance that affected his entire life, but he learned to ignore it like a mosquito. He gave a few examples of affects it had on his life. During this, Fr. McCurdy wandered over to look at the window. When the student finished, Fr. McCurdy removed his glasses to wipe back the tears from his eyes, and continued the discussion.

4) After reading Joyce's "Portrait of an Artist as a Young Man" Fr. McCurdy took a class to describe his path into becoming a priest. One of the most interesting comments I thought he made involved his "choice" of Catholism. He made the statement that once he had actually come to terms with God and Christiantiy, choosing a particular religion that was right for him was arbitrary. Each religion has it's own take on the same thing and choosing which institutions clothes were best for your religion body was a matter of taste. It reminds me of C.S. Lewis' comments from "Mere Christianty" when he talks about how entering the house of God is the first step, selecting the room of your particular religion is less important, but still essential, as waiting in the foyer of the house of God is incomplete. I had a few other one-on-one religious discussions with Fr. McCurdy in his "study hall" at a bench outside the Jesuit's living quarters. He would sit there to smoke and encourage students to talk with him.

5) It's not the first time I've shared this story on this site, but it's my favorite. After writing our longest and hardest paper of the year, we had a discussion in class to answer Fr. McCurdy's question, "why do you do it' Why do you struggle and work so hard in all the AP classes, when you could just take the regular classes and cruise through with an easy A grade'" While the reasons were many and varied, the consensus of the class seemed to be that people did it for the love of learning. "Jordan, why don't you summarize this for us." I told a story which kept rolling around in my mind throughout class.

"A couple of months ago I was reading through the comics in the newspaper and laughed hard at a Far Side comic. One of my family members sitting next to me at the table asked what I found so funny. So I passed him the Far Side comic. He read it. He didn't get it. In the Far Side comic was a cow sitting in a nice chair in a house reading a newspaper. Behind the cow on the wall was a picture of an old wrinkled cow. The caption below the comic read, 'The Picture of Dorain Cow.'" The class laughed after I finished the line. I smiled. "That's why we do it. We don't do it for the higher GPA. We don't do it to get into the better college. We do it to laugh at comics. We do it, because the more you know, the more of the wonder and humor of the world is revealed to you. When you know more, you laugh more." At the end of the year, Fr. McCurdy wrote each of us a personal letter he signed. I went digging through my memory box for it last night, but it didn't reveal itself to me. In the letter, he made the comment that he had told "The Picture of Dorian Cow" story to many people over the year as one his favorite examples of why it was important to be well-educated.

Those are my stories. He was a good man to have known in my lifetime. Requiescat in Pace.

One Particular Harbor (07/23/2006)

I know I don't get there often enough but God knows I surely try. It's a magic kind of medicine. That no doctor could prescribe. - Jimmy Buffett (One Particular Harbor)

I'm riding the train home from Sacramento to the Bay after spending a week in lovely green Clearlake. I wrote around three paragraphs recounting the first day of the adventure when my inspiration to write fizzled away. The blow-by-blow details of the trip will stay in my mind, but I'll try to outline some of the highlights.

There were no major injuries at the lake this year. It's in violation of a long and reliable record of trips to the ER. I gave myself a nasty cut on one finger that didn't bleed and one other member scraped her ankle across a foot-friction section of the boat removing a layer of skin and causing blood to sap out, but no limbs were lost. Sorry to the Lakeport hospital for our lack of business this year.

I didn't check work email once throughout the week. In years past I've always spent one or so hours a day just managing my work e-mail queue, but I didn't this year. Work has been encroaching into my personal life too many times I don't want it to. I just shut down that part of my mind this past week. I read a few interesting tidbits on some changes on the personal website of a colleague so somethings may be very different when I get back. I put a lot of thought into my current work situation. It's good food for though late at night starring off across the water.

One of the major strenghts of Clearlake is that it takes up an entire weeks worth of time. When I see my father's family for Christmas or Easter it's nice, but it's such a minor amount of time that every conversation needs to be pushed and rushed and there is no time for idle gossip. Eat and talk for a few hours and then it's over. Clearlake spans an entire week and gives opportunities to share tons of meals, tons of fun in the sun, tons of card games. Especially now that I am in the Bay area and a few hours away from the majority of that portion of the family, it's a nice time to see a lot of them for long enough to count.

I took Gumdrop up with me for the first half of the week. I tried to get her to come along last year but it didn't work out. For her, after dating three months, spending a weekend with me on the annual family vacation fell into the "too soon too fast" category. I found it a little funny at the time, because as she has learned over the past year, there are few families more relaxed and more inviting than mine. She was, as always, loved by everyone. There were a ton of significant others this year among all my siblings and cousins.

My father acquired a new water device assuming it would certainly be the cause of a trip to the hospital. The Manta Ray claimed it would lifted off from behind the boat and hover a dozen feet in the air. Add in the the recall on a similar kite tube and the consumer protection advisory against all such devices and we knew we had a winner. The sucker required the boat to be going at top throttle or around forty miles per hour, depending on the weight of the rider. The water is not soft at those speeds and if anyone had taken a fall, at least a couple ribs would be cracked. I took around a hundred photos of people on the device. My camera is ancient and slow, but I captured a few key images. I took a bunch more from my brother's camera, but will need to wait for him to arrive home on the east coast and send me a disc of the images.

We played some serious games of eight-player cancellation hearts. We ate burgers, ribs, pizza, kabobs and loads of protein-rich food to fuel the skiing. I skiied. I wake boarded. On the last day we went out and pulled two people on knee-boards behind the boat at the same time. The young kids fight each other and try and throw the other off. I've gotten too old and breakable for it. There is a great video of me doing about eight 360 spins a row before hitting a horrible cross-wake. I was, thankfully, facing forward when it occurred and my partner took the header into the water from it.

Over the last two nights we were there, the "kids" drank over one-hundred and fifty beers. I hate beer. We made a valiant attempt to get to the hospital from alcohol poisoning. As we were loading up the boats to leave we discovered a flat tire with a giant nail in it and spent an extra two hours waiting for road service to help us change the tire. I've changed many tires on my cars, but no way I was going to hand jack my father's giant SUV packed to the brim with a week worth of skiing supplies and dirt road.

As we rolled back into Sacramento, the temperature gauge read 114 degrees feirinheight. I'm ready to go home. Just not to go to work.

But there's this one particular harbor, so far but yet so near, where I see the days as they fade away and finally disappear

Our Wing at the ER (07/14/2006)

Forget like a child any injury done by somebody immediately. Never keep it in the heart. It kindles hatred. - Swami Sivananda

I'm just about to run off for a week to lovely Clearlake for the annual water skiing extravaganza where at least one trip to the emergency room is basically aguaranteed. Who will be the lucky winner this year' What will be the injury'

The new toy is some sort of inter tube that claims to have spring out wings that will allow your to gain vertical lift a few feet into the air glide gracefully back into the water. It sounds dangerous. Then add five large cousins onto it all attempting to play king of the hill and throw the other ones off, and it is absolutely delightful! I can't wait to see the blood splash.

This cabins we've been going to since before I was born have gone under new ownership and the rules and getting tight. No pets allowed this year. All people and vehicles must be registered. There are fewer people allowed in the big house than in years past. It's just about time for our little group to find a new place to stay on the lake. So this could be the final year for Soda Bay. I've packed the camera and Fernet. What else do I need'

One Wedding (07/11/2006)

Oh! how many torments lie in the small circle of a wedding ring. - Colley Cibber

I love weddings. I'm a sucker for love and a sucker for tradition, so a traditional display of love just makes me melt. I prod my poor friends endlessly about their romantic affairs. When's the marriage' Once the marriage is done, I prod about the kids.

On Saturday I went off to a wedding for one of Gumdrop's high school friends. It was a beautiful outdoor wedding, but the direct sunlight and heat were intense. I adore excuses to wear a collared shirt and tie for a fun because I just look so damn hot in them. I even took along my leather fedora.

The cake smashing was phenomenal. The groom gave the bride a little smash. The bride smashed a bit more. The groom put the cake plate on the bride's head. The bride massaged the frosting into the groom's hair. Glorious. I'm a fan of the cake smashing if both sides think it's fun.

The DJ had some bizarre gags that I'd never seen before. He had costumes to form a conga line, costumes for 70's disco style and a few other gimmicks. Those types of things need a receptive and participator crowd. The group at this gathering had a lot of shy folks and I'm not sure it was as much a smash as it could be. Most of the weddings I've been too haven't required a DJ to bring in the noise and funk.

I spent a good chunk of time on the dance floor. There was a time when it was near impossible to get me out to dance on anything beyond a very few select clubs. Now I have no issue making a fool of myself on the floor. I even get a kick out of trying to coax the shy people in the audience to join me. I'm not good, just shameless.

AX2006 (07/10/2006)

The rise of anime had to happen. I take my hat off to them. - Ralph Bakshi

This was the sixth year that I've spent my fourth of July weekend in Los Angeles for Anime Expo. I look forward to the weekend with my friends all year long, and it has never failed to disappoint. This year, the group totaled eleven people spread out over three rooms. Some of the group arrived a few daysearlier to see Disneyland for the 50th anniversary, but I didn't get there until the weekend.

Thursday night had been my drunk tank at work, and after working hard from home all morning, I headed over the Oakland airport to fly down with Maria. This is the first year we've had a woman with our little group of geeks inattendance. She's a minor otaku, near the same level of me, so she is just along for the ride to see what the cool kids think is great. This year I saw far less anime then I had in previous years. I saw all the main events that I wanted to see including the previous of Full Metal Alchemist and crazy Japanese ninja movie called Azumi.

We had less Carl's Junior and more expensive hotel food this year. It's a sign we're all getting older and more willing to be lazy and spend money. Our final night in town we headed to Downtown Disney. We had gorgeous seats on the patio with a perfect view to see the nightly fireworks display in Disneyland.

Another good year. Take it home with some simple pictures.

I'll Tell You This One Thing (07/04/2006)

All secrets become deep. All secrets become dark. That's in the nature of secrets. - Alan (Someone Comes to Town, Someone Leaves Town)

Anime Expo 2006 updates need to come in the next few days, but for now I'm home on the fourth of July. I just spent the last three hours cleaning the downstairs of the house. I meant to start working, but it's hard to get work done in a dirty home. So now I have a clean home, and I was just about to start working when I heard the fireworks going off. It's a distraction, so I can't work. Obviously.

For the two weeks before the holiday, one of my coworkers from India was in town. We worked really hard during that time, but we also made sure to play hard. The last night we took him out for a drunk tank. The last drunk tank was back in September of last year and had such memorable moments as getting kicked out of a cab after threatening to punch the cab driver in the face and me falling over in an alleyway.

Yellow, the most seasoned city slummer of the group, arranges the entire night and we're good to go. I drive into the city. That makes me the designated driver and provides some protection from some of the insanity the last time we did a drunk tank. Taking a cue from previous lessons, we don't head to sushi, we head to good solid food. The restaurant is in the same alleyway I collapsed last time, and I have fond memories of the half-sized poles. Dinner goes down smooth with two beers, and instead of people eating light sushi, we have dishes like pork wrapped in pork to get a good layer of grease and fast into the stomach. There are no shots of chilled Grey Goose at dinner.

The first bar we hit is the one we never made it into the time before. I have my girlie DD drink, two fruit juices mixed together, and the rest of the crowd has another round of real drinks. Kamakazi, our friend from India, says his one issue with drinking is that he tends to puke. Yellow is excited by the news, and makes it his mission to see Kamakazi lose it. One more drink and we're back on the street.

Yellow decides Kamakazi needs to see an old fashion American peep show at a dirty peep show club. Brander, Double Damage and even Kamakazi, much to my shock, all think this is a great idea. I'm not a fan a strippers and peep shows. I have made it this far in my life never having to see one, and hope to finish it off that way. I have a mild moment of worry, since Yellow can back a complete ass when drunk, that he is going to give me a hard time and I'll have to punch him in the face. He doesn't. He shares an important rule of the nightlife he follows: never give the designated driver a hard time.

The other four go into the dollar show of dirty strippers and give Kamakazi the advice not to touch ANYTHING in the booth. I stand out front and bum a smoke off a group passing by. A few minutes later and my crowd comes out. Brander is trying to gouge out his eyes saying that his woman weighed-in well over the two-hundred pound mark. Kamakazi praises his skinny girl and explains to us how this sort of thing doesn't exist in India.

We hit a bar on Broadway for another round. I'm still drinking the alcohol-free girlie drinks unsure when the night will end. Kamakazi says he's done drinking for the night, fearing he is going to puke. Yellow buys him a drink and does some amazing peer pressure. "Just hold the drink. You don't have to drink it, just hold it." Followed by, "Just take a sip man. You have to at least try it." Brander puts money in the bar game and queues up Photo Hunt. This is the classic "circle what doesn't match in two similar pictures" game, the same one you played in Highlights magazine, but this time it's all naked women. Kamakazi and Brander rock the game. Yellow, Double Damage and I watched with glee as Kamakazi beer is slowly drunk.

We hit our final bar of the evening, Budda Bar, to play Liar's Dice with the bartender. The way it works is simple. If you beat the bartender, he buys a drink for you and him. If he beats you, you buy a drink for you and him. Either way, you drink. When the bartender has had too much, he gives his drink away. So every game results in two drinks. It only matters who pays for it.

The drink of choice is Fernet. Kamakazi says he is done for the night. With only three drinks, it's over. He can't leave the States without trying Fernet, so we order him a shot. He's not up for it. He takes a taste and says he's done. Brander tries to get me to take the shot, but Yellow has my back. You never pressure the designated driver. I flex my skill at peer pressure, and offer to do half the shot if Kamakazi does the other. He agrees. We take it.

Yellow is getting schooled at Liar's Dice and he keeps taking shots. The bartender is drunk and is giving his shots to our group. Yellow is being the ultimate ass and pressuring Kamakazi into it. "You remember that review I just gave you? If you don't take this drink I'll mark you as unacceptable!" Kamakazi gives in and drinks. And again. And again. As the designated river, I can already visualize the puke throughout the back seat of my car. Kamkazi wants to make us proud. "I have never had this much to drink in my life! I tell you this one thing, I can promise I drink better than the other two from India in our group." Yellow's in full-on drunken-ass mode, "One doesn't drink and other is a twenty-five year old married woman. Are you telling me you are only better than a twenty-five year old married woman? You're pathetic! Drink dammit!" The shots keeps coming.

We finally leave, have little trouble finding the car, but get on the road. Kamakazi says some fantastically quotable things on the way home. "I tell you this; this is the greatest day of my entire life." "I will not tell my wife this when I get home, but someday I might. I know that when I do she will be very happy for me, because she thinks life is for having fun." The final five minutes, the window is rolled down and Kamazaki is breathing hard. I can tell he is trying not to hurl in the car. I give him water. I'm ready to pull over. We make it. He gets out.