Last Country Music Concert (for the Time Being)

KPIG and Country Roots' An Evening with Ricky Skaggs & Kentucky Thunder is the last concert we went to before the statewide sanction against COVID-19. To Paul's great delight, he won  tickets from KSQD to attend the show of Kentucky Thunder on March 11, 2020 at Felton Music Hall. I was invited to go along as his guest.

We had an early dinner and arrived promptly at the door at 7:00 pm. Fully aware of the social distancing, a long line of audience members kept a respectable distance from one another. Soon, the door was open, and people began to walk in. For some reason, Paul's name was not on the special will-call list. Apparently the sub-DJ at KSQD was too overwhelmed with radio procedures and calls during her shift that day. But the concert organizer admitted us in good faith and stamped our right hands.

We got two chairs in the third row which was shared by an elderly and unsteady couple. Before long, we realized that we needed to move to the center or, better still, to the front of the stage fully surrounded by Ricky Skaggs' fans. Many of them were not just standing, but swinging or dancing to the music. Moreover, the sound was far better here than in our seating area.

With our much improved sound and up-close view, I was impressed at how accomplished the whole band was. They gave the intimate audience the last and best performance before the sanctions would be lifted. They could play beautifully as a whole or individually, e.g., Ricky, Paul Brewster and Dennis Park (baritone vocals) sang in harmony or separately. Instrumentally, Mike Barnett played fiddle, Jake Workman, lead guitar, Paul Brewster, rhythm guitar, Russell Carson, banjo, Jeff Picker, bass, and Dennis Parker, rhythm guitar, mandolin, and fiddle.

As a lead singer, Ricky's voice was as smooth as old wine while his mandolin had a surprisingly wide range from gentle to white heat energetic. Perhaps fully aware that he would be away from his audience for a long time, he was reminiscent of his past concerts in Santa Cruz, his childhood and family songs, and his parental teaching about every cloud having a silver lining. When he first started to play mandolin, and it was out of tune, his father told him not to worry, "It will just sound like more people are playing."

The audience assembled was knowledgeably cognizant of Rick Skaggs & Kentucky Thunder. They followed the performance closely and fondly. They were longing for more after the band ended at 8:40 pm. After two more encores, Kentucky Thunder left the stage.

So long, we will meet soon!

Entitlement and Punishment

When my colleague Liz gave me a copy of The Dutch House, I was not prepared for it to be another rendition of gold diggers.

Having encountered a real-life gold digger two years ago in 2018, I felt insufferably indignant about the unique injustice. As time is the best healer, I have begun to learn to live and enjoy our own life, which is the precise story line of Ann Patchett's new book entitled The Dutch House in 2019, the same year Donna Leon published her Unto Us a Son Is Given on the same subject.

The Dutch House is actually about the Conroys, a couple from Brooklyn. A self-made real-estate magnate, Cyril Conroy, was business-wise, but wife-foolish. He bought from the bank the grandiose Dutch House in Elkins Park, outside Philadelphia, to please his wife Elna, but ended up suffocating and frightening her away to India to help Mother Teresa with the poor. Divorced with two young kids, three-year-old son Danny, and ten-year-old daughter Maeve, he married again with Andrea, a much younger women who only adored the imposing house and everything inside, to boot.

Three years into the marriage, Cyril not only found his new wife bringing two young daughters from her previous life, but also found himself, in the end, collapsed and dead on the stairs of his new building. Before long, the newly widowed Andrea assumed complete control of the family estate and finances through her capable big-city lawyer, and ordered Marve and Danny to leave the house at a moment's notice, since Cyril failed to mention any provisions for his own children in his will. So departing together were the house-keeper and cook, two sisters hired by the first wife. Four of them crammed into Marve's small car and drove away to fend for themselves.

Danny moved into his sister's tiny apartment and lived on her limited income from working for a vegetable refrigeration company. What enabled him to go to a private high school, Columbia, and its medical school was an almost forgotten educational trust Cyril had established to be shared by Danny and two step-daughters, minus Marve who had already started to work. But such a fortune was precarious and full of obstacles. His entry into medical school was met with fierce protests from Andrea who thought the trust only covered college education, not medical school whose expensive tuition would exhaust all funds for her daughters to enjoy, a typical entitlement of all gold diggers and leeches. Such is Pratchett's stock in trade: astute observations about human nature.

Just as their Brooklyn-born father, Danny and his sister worked hard to create from scratch their own fortune. Unmarried, Marve lived a fulfilled life, while Danny became a new real-estate magnate himself, even though he was a fully qualified doctor. But unlike their lonely father, the two siblings were surrounded with love from their families, friends, and former house staff. When Marve fell ill with heart attacks, their long missing mother Elna came back to their rescue.

There was always an unresolved issue with Marve and Danny: their lost Dutch House. They would often drive out of their way to stop by, wondering what was happening inside, but never mustering courage enough to go in until Elna accompanied them to pay an official visit. It turned out the gold digger did not fare better: Andrea had been suffering from late-stage Alzheimer's. One daughter never wanted to come back to the house while another daughter, a pediatric oncologist, as a result of Andrea's nagging about Danny's medical school, remained childless. As trained by Mother Teresa, Elna decided to stay on to help Andrea's daughter to care for the sick. Reduced to a less than childlike mental state, Andrea mistook Danny for Cyril, and died in the care of Elna two weeks later.

The Dutch House was at last rightfully returned to the Conroys. Danny purchased it back for his daughter. It seems that the former entitlement is not without it's ultimate due punishment. 

A Weekend of Blessing, Birthday and Bliss

It was busy few days last weekend for both Nick and us. He had to be on-call, so his visit had to be postponed to the following weekend. We will see him and Paulie soon!

We started to feel the heat of the weekend since Friday February 21, 2020. An invitation arrived for me to join the Recorded Books Advisory Board, and renewed book proposal from Cambridge Scholars.

Around noon, Saturday February 22, Father Milutin called to ask if he could come an hour earlier than planned to bless our home, and I had to say Yes, even though Paul just lied down to nurse his headache. After the phone call, Paul and I sprang to action to be ready for him.

Ten minutes later, Father arrived in his full length black robe and white collar. Without too much ado, he started blessing for all of us living and then the Dear Departed. He then sprinkled Holy Water around our living room, kitchen, bathroom and bedrooms, and our mini-Costco of a garage, with me holding the water bowl and Paul reading from the Scripture. Once the interior was covered, he proceeded to the side-yard, backyard and front-yard where I asked him for a special blessing on our ailing lemon tree which had died many deaths over last two decades and more. He did and commented rightly that it at least bore fruits. He also blessed the '57 Chevy truck, RAV4, and Camry. Apparently the Chevy was his favorite. He had to leave right away, as he had a full schedule ahead of him.

For some reason, we both felt so happy and lightened after Father Milutin's visit. In that blissful milieu, we decided to give my paper on Eddy a final polishing. At three o'clock, we sent the draft paper to Prof. Buckland who responded with a long message three hours later while I was preparing fillings for dumplings.

The next day, Sunday, February 23, we spent almost all day outside, exercising at 24 Hour Fitness, going to church, walking along West Cliff, attending Alverda's 90th birthday party at St. Joseph, and watching the sunset at Moran Beach.

It was a blissful weekend to be with family and friends: FaceTime with Nick's family, talking to sister, and gathering together with church and library friends. Besides congratulating Alverda and meeting her twin daughters, sons-in-laws, and grandson, we Awesome Three,  Heidi, Pam and I, who used to staff the Reference desk and Telephone Reference for many years, with Donna being our lead, were now having a great time, covering all topics to catch up with each other.

Three Celestial Bodies + ISS

It was a busy Sunday yesterday, even though we skipped 24 Hour Fitness, as the strong winds knocked out the power at the gym.

After church, we went straight to Seabright Beach and walked for about an hour. It was so cheerful to see happy faces, bright sunshine, the endless expanse of shining ocean water, and the busy activities on the sand dunes and the Boardwalk. We returned home and finished a series of chores, such as trimming both persimmon and cherry trees, newly roping the clothes lines, and cleaning the house. Just minutes before the sunset, we arrived at Moran Beach to see the event. The sun was prematurely disappearing due to the heavy edge of the thick fog bank surrounding the horizon.

When we walked towards Pleasure Point and The Hook, the full moon appeared. There were patches of clouds, but the moon was not intimidated. It popped through now and then, silvery and proud, living up to her reputation as a Snow Moon. It is also known as the Hunger Moon or Storm Moon by some Native American tribes. Just across from the full moon, Venus was shining in the sky. What celestial bodies we have greeted this evening!

On our way back, a group of four people were staring up into the sky, shouting ISS, ISS, ISS! Indeed the proud International Space Station passed directly overhead and and past us at that moment. It was more than nine minutes before it winked out of view at a distance of over 900 miles, a fitting encore to an already eventful celestial evening.

International Palindrome Day 02022020

Palindrome Paul told me that it is a special palindrome day today, for 02/02/2020 is the first true palindrome since 11/11/1111.

Unlike other palindromic dates, February 2, 2020 is a global palindrome because it is exactly the same written both in the DD/MM/YYYY format in Europe, and the MM/DD/YYYY format in U.S. It is even true in China, where the year comes first, 2020/02/02.

What a unique year we live in now!

MST 3000 in San Jose

Thursday evening, Paul and I set off to San Jose for our big event: we were going to attend "Mystery Science Theater 3000 Live", an encore for the performance after one in San Francisco. It was a special moment for MST3K fans in the Bay Areas, as it was Joel Hodgson's last live trip before his imminent retirement. It was a double excitement for Paul, for he has always wanted to see Joel performing alive. On more than one occasion, he was planning to go to Milwaukee for one of their very early shows, decades ago.

We had our dinner at In and Out, and happened to run into Rick and his son Michael. We then proceeded leisurely towards San Jose Center of Performing Arts. Our arrival was early, but there were already people waiting for the doors to open. People were casually dressed, some in MST3K themed outfits. You could feel the excitement and anticipation in the night air. 

We were finally admitted. There was a long line formed at the MST3K merchandise counter. We walked around different levels of walkways inside the hall, finding ourselves surrounded by crowds of fans everywhere, old and young, men and women. The theater was packed with thousands of devotees.

Soon, Joel and his quipping robot companions — Tom Servo, Crow, Gypsy, and Cambot— and crew came on stage with the darkening of the light. Mystery Science Theater 3000 was officially live on stage:

MST 3000 Live Opening scene.

Joe with his sarcastic robot companions.

Tom briefly acquired the body of a "beautiful butterfly."

The end: Joel Hodgson's whole ensemble.

Chippy Says Goodbye

In the early morning of 2019's last day, Chippy, the 18-year-old cat, fell into an eternal sleep. As considerate as ever, she left unobtrusively to let her loved ones celebrate a new year and a new decade.

Chippy was named after Mrs. Chippy, a cat owned by Harry "Chippy" McNish, a carpenter on Sir Ernest Shackleton's Trans-Antarctic Expedition of 1914-1917. She was always as overly attentively as her namesake was with McNish. When barely a kitten herself, Chippy made sure the teenager Nick would get enough sleep, by trotting to lie at the foot of his bed every night. Whenever Grandma Jindi visited Santa Cruz, Chippy would follow her everywhere. The two of them spent many mornings together listening to exercise tapes, while Grandma was doing Tai Chi. She was truly worried when Grandma suffered from one of her Alzheimer's episodes and was stuck outside the door for hours. Chippy managed to get along with a team of caregivers when her adopted parents had to travel overseas or out of state to take care of the ailing Grandma many times a year.

Being pure white, Chippy lived a polite and peaceful indoor life. Unlike some Homo sapiens whose greed knows no bounds, she was the epitome of contentment with her daily provisions, water and wheat grass, Iams cat food, and Johnny Cat litter. If there was something else she wanted, she would wait for her turn, and meow back after the wait was acknowledged. As the only cat in the household, she spent her spare time grooming and creating games to play. Until she could no longer jump, she would play a relay game with her family members by taking a computer duster from the pen-holder on the desk, and depositing it somewhere to be discovered.

Being a feline, Chippy might be equipped with mouse-catching capability, but not with a killer's instinct. When the garage was visited by rodents, she was anxious to investigate, but at a loss as to what to do when she actually caught one in her paws. Although she was the runt of her litter, Chippy refused to be bullied. One Christmas, a family friend came to stay with his full-sized German shepherd Stella. For her safety, the 10-poound Chippy was separated to a different room. On the third day, she ventured out and walked step by step toward Stella, without losing eye contact, like a stalking lioness.

Chippy is survived by her litter brother Elijah of Scotts Valley, brother Nick (and family) of Pleasanton, and parents Paul and Hui-Lan Titangos of Santa Cruz. On behalf of Chippy, the family would like to express their gratitude to her caretakers, Dody Anderson, Tom Dilbeck, Tyler Caceres, Rick "Peanut" Rizzo, and Linda Lippy. They would also like to thank the Santa Cruz County Animal Shelter and her veterinarian, Dr. Gary Roussopoulous, for his lifelong professional service and care.

Back from Shanghai for Christmas

Paul and I celebrated the coziest Christmas this year. After a whirlwind of a two week trip in Shanghai, we want nothing but to stay home since our return midday of December 22nd, 2019.

We arrived in Shanghai late in the evening on the 11th. Harmoniously and cooperatively, four of us, Hui, Baolin, Paul and I, spent the following day in Jinqiao, Pudong, purchasing cell phones and opening bank accounts. Such a harmony and cooperation among us four pretty much laid down the tone for our entire stay, even though our group is known for its members' strong and diverse personalities. When night fell, we were invited to Hui-Qiu's home for a family dinner, where Paul became Yaya's most popular "Grandpa".

Early the next day, we continued aboard China Eastern Air for a 5-day trip to Sanya with a tour guided by Ctrip. The next three days were devoted to visiting The First Bay of the World (Yalong Bay), Wuzhizhou Island, Nanshan, and End of the Earth. The time out was hot and long, averaging from 8:30 am to 7:00 pm, but we were charmed by Sanya's gorgeous fine-sand beaches, palm trees, bountiful tropical fruits, many colorful Russian tourists, and local residents consisting chiefly of transplants from all parts of the country.

Back from Sanya until our departure from Shanghai, we became extremely busy with lunches and dinners offered by friends, aunts and cousin. They all but killed us with their kindness and generosity. At one point, I was telling myself that I ate so much rich food that I could easily fast for a week.

December 20th, the eve of the winter solstice, finally arrived. We waited outside our Holiday Inn Express at 7:20 am waiting for Didi (Chinese version of Uber) to join my little aunt and her husband for the rented van. Little did we know that neither Didi nor taxi drivers were interested in the short distance (or little profit) in a fare to the aunt's place. After cancelling Didi twice, we were apparently on its blacklist and rejected for any opportunity to order a ride for the day. In the end, we had to be picked up by our own group's van after Ying's intervention.

It was a crispy, clear morning, promising a good day. Twenty-two of us gathered at the Lexiang Cemetery. Four of them were my father's second cousins, while the rest were from the families on my mother's side, uncles, two aunts, us three siblings and spouses, and in-laws. Lulu and Emily represented the third generation. We burned silver money to warm the place for Mother's ashes, laid next to Father's. It was then sealed with a granite cover. Once the red candles were lit and flowers presented, people began to line up to pay respects. For 100 Chinese yuan, a waiting man solicited to us to retouch the faded red color of the words on the tombstone. Paul paid to let the man start to work.

We then visited the tombs of my grandparents a few rows back, and those of my grandmother's sister and her husband a few rows in front. We were somewhat comforted at the thought that my parents were in a good neighborhood with their elders around. Moreover, they were no longer suffering from pain or debilitating illnesses that took their lives sooner than their siblings.

We had two tables reserved in a restaurant for an early lunch. The mood was at once somber and grateful for a rare gathering to remember our parents and their bigger families. We were all very proud to be their children, grandchildren or great grandchildren. It started to rain that very afternoon and for the remainder of our stay. Every family member acknowledged that the narrow window of fine weather was a blessing from our parents and grandparents.

But rain did not dampen our enthusiasm to explore both the old and new Shanghai, shopping, sightseeing and going to dinner. If "Sir, when a man is tired of London, he is tired of life (Samuel Johnson);" so it is true if one is tired of Shanghai.

My Thanksgivings in Santa Cruz

Since moving back to Santa Cruz in June 30, 1996, I have picked up the custom of Thanksgiving celebration. For over a decade, we would go to Lew's. He would prepare and present to us the most beautiful and delicious turkey. Together with another couple, we would be responsible for trimmings. The couple is no other than Carmen and Harvey who is one of Lew's oldest friends from Detroit, Michigan.

For some unknown reason, Carmen and Harvey stopped coming. It might be related to the fierce competition in table tennis between Lew and Harvey, a pair of superb players. It might be also possible that Lew's new Modesto female did not get along with the couple. A few years later, we took over turkey cooking when Lew started to decline physically.

Despite our numerous trips to New York to take care of our mother since 2008, Paul and I always managed to come back for Thanksgiving, with Lew as our special guest. At first, he drove himself to our house, but had to be picked up by Paul or Nick in later years. Nonetheless, he would join us, even in November 2017, two months before his passing. He was a proud man, reminiscing stories to us of his booming success in his home town with his laundromat that kept it's price at ten cents when all the other establishments were increasing their prices. He would also tell of us his innovative group approach in his social work and psychotherapy career with the County of Santa Clara.

At his last two Thanksgivings, Lew declined drastically, pale and bent, dwelling only on two things: all his family wealth disappeared without a trace, so did his parents and friends in Detroit; and his only usefulness now was reduced to signing checks requested by his bookkeeper, and girl friend. On hearing it, we were alarmed but felt helpless to comfort him. If there were a crystal ball, we would warn his cousin down in Southern California to intervene. Apparently, time is not on our side, two months later in January 2018, Lew passed after a two weeks' stay at Domincan Hospital.

Since 2018, we have been celebrating our Thanksgiving with Nick's family of four. The kids have brought us positive energy and festive spirits. But somewhere in a corner of our heart we miss the constant Thanksgiving guest who was so savvy all his life, but so muddle-headed toward the end of his life. 

Double Celebrations: a Magical Day

It’s a magical day Saturday, September 28th, 2019. Early in the morning, Crissie, Paul and I got up, dressed, and awaited Nick’s family of four.

As soon as the white Mercury was in sight of the front yard at 11:00 am, our quiet little house was transformed into a busy train station, with Leni running to and fro, whereas Paulie was crying at the top of his lungs. After a short rest, the seven of us drove in two vehicles to Prophet Elias Greek Orthodox Church for a double Baptism.

Father Milutin and Joseph were already waiting when we arrived at 1:00 pm. The table was decorated with ceremonial objects, and a tall, ornate metal water basin stood not far away. To start, Father Milutin led eight of us to the front door where he blessed the two kids and their parents, with readings, and signs of the cross.

We then proceeded forward to the altar, and lit our two candles, waiting for Leni and Paulie in underclothes. Directed by Father, six of us gathered around the fountain, while Joseph held both candles, and Paul clicked away with his camera. Four-and-a-half-year-old Leni was scared to be dunked into the water, but OK once she was wiped dry and clothed. I did not notice her slippery weight until two days later when I still felt muscles in my left arm sore and tight. Paulie was equally frightened with cries at the beginning, but his one-and-a-half-year-old weight was easy to handle.

Like two angels, both kids, wearing their new white Christening clothes, came running towards us. Led again by Father Milutin, six of us circled the alter three times. Afterwards, it was time for their first communion. Paulie did not put up any fight, but actually enjoyed receiving the sacrament, but his older sister, initially refusing the last part of the ceremony, eventually came around. Nick and Lee Anne signed the baptism documents and received instructions from Father on attending future Sunday liturgies for the kids to each receive communion three more times within 6 months.

At 3:00 pm, the Baptism was officially finalized. Just at that moment, four little kids were rushing into the church door. It is time for Father Milutin to work as a babysitter for his two kids, together with his friends' two kids, while Presbytera and her friends were going out in the afternoon.

Eight of us left the church for Rosie McCann's Irish Pub and Restaurant for celebration of the double Baptism. After the first round of drinks, and just as we ordered our lunch, the power went out. We waited for a couple of hours, until we were told that the power would not be back on until 7:00 pm. Our waitress apologized profusely, and credited Crissie and my margaritas.

Joseph had to leave us to drive back to the Bay Area while the rest of us went home to have a hearty late lunch and early dinner, which was followed by a deep nap enjoyed by Paul, Paulie, Lee Anne and Nick. Crissie, Leni and I were three real troopers who did not succumb to the temptation. We were simply too busy browsing iPads, running around, and cooking.

When dusk fell, the nappers began to stir, and we were all ready for Nick's birthday cake. His big day was the day before, but we agreed to combine the two events into one. The Buttery's carrot cake was divine. and vanilla ice cream heavenly.

With military precision, Paul and I packed our usual food bags for the little family to take away. When we hugged and waved goodbye to them, it finally dawned on us that in less than 10 hours we had undergone a lifetime experience. It is a big, eventful, and magical day, September 28, 2019.