The last month of 2023 has started with a bang. On the first day of December at 10 a.m., I was picked up by Gail and Dody to go over the hill to attend Mitch Albom's talk about The Little Liar. Gail was a little stressed over the traffic delay on the Frontage Road. It turned out that her car clock was 40 minutes fast. Thanks to the light traffic on Highway 17, we made it on time for the 11 o'clock event.
Organized by the Santa Clara County Library (SCCL) District, the book talk took place at Orchard City Banquet Hall, 1 W Campbell Avenue. It was a well-attended meeting, packed with people sitting and standing around. Despite his soft voice, Mitch described his own life and charity work in Haiti, and his new book about 11-year-old Nico Krispis in Salonika, Greece in the summer of 1943. Under the controlling duress of German officer Udo Graf, the angelical boy who had never lied was walking around the train platform, telling local Jewish prisoners that they were going to have a better life with new jobs and prospects of family reunions in the north. His lies were stopped by a large man, and by the sight of his whole family rounded up to be sent to the concentration camp in Poland.
The author analyzed in detail about the lies and about forgiveness/hope. According to the author, lies never die, but will creep out every few decades. The "illusion of truth" effect was augmented by Joseph Goebbels' law of propaganda, "Repeating a lie often enough and it becomes the truth." To counteract lies are forgiveness and hope. Also according to him, forgiving hearts expect nothing in return, while hope is a sliver of life and one good thing in our life.
This is the second time we have attended author visits organized by SCCL. A decade ago, we sat in the same place for The Rosie Project by Graeme Simsion. It was a resounding success and exerted a huge impact on our awareness of Asperger's. Gail was the organizer!
After declining a friendly invitation to attend an Aladdin Nursery evening event, Paul and I decided to take it easy after my slow recovery from the RSV vaccination on the previous Wednesday. Around 3:30 pm, we walked leisurely along the railing of Seabright Beach. We saw sparse tourists and locals alike, and an all but empty ocean for a warm and beautiful Saturday, except for a couple of Harbor Patrol vessels. Once we reached the jetty of Walton Lighthouse, the hustle and bustle greeted us, with flags flying, and a bake sale table doing a briskly business. We assumed that dozens of people in their folded chairs on the wooden outlook and along the jetty were family members of Sea Scouts as shown by a flag on one moored boat boasted.
As usual, we made our two laps of the jetty. On the last one back, we were indecisive about leaving right away or sticking around to join Sea Scouts families. Strong curiosity got the upper hand. We found one spot on the jetty, but moved towards left a little bit to avoid a view-blocking bush. Our close neighbor were a family speaking English with a foreign accent. Paul thought it was German, and I surmised Irish, until the lady of the family heard us and declared that they were from Germany.
The anticipated Sea Scouts event turned out to be a holiday Lighted Boat Parade, a 34-year-long tradition in the celebration of Christmas by the Santa Cruz Harbor known to all, except for us two. The parade would start at 5:30 p.m., our friendly neighboring lady told us. Shortly before the opening, a number of lighted boats started to move, perhaps to do their rehearsal run. Then the parade officially started with the Boardwalk boat leading, followed by a slew of brilliantly decorated sail boats. Opposite to them was an ominous but magnificent pirate boat coming into the mouth of the harbor. The crowds cheered on both sides of the harbor.
In the darkness, one would be impressed not only by lights, but also the familiar music and ingenious designs, complex vs. simple, multi-themed vs. one diamond-colored sail. Seeing us sitting on the cement jetty for a long duration, the kind-hearted German lady offered us hot wine. We graciously accepted. If a multitude of Christmas lights were candy to our eyes, her hot beverage was a real treat to our bellies and soul. She asked us to guess what wine it was. After our several failed attempts, she told us that it was her home-made wine. It was one the most delicious and heartwarming wines we had ever tasted, reminding me of Shaoxin Wine my uncle used to drink.
After watching boats made three rounds, Paul and I decided to leave. We needed to conserve our energy for our trip to Filoli scheduled on December 11. Once standing, we saw the true scale of the parade spectators on the land. There were hundreds, if not thousands, of people around us. On the face of a hillside, numerous kids were sitting and watching the ongoing parade. What a turnaround from a quiet and sparse Saturday afternoon! And we were still only at December 2nd.
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