Happy Birthday, Alverda!

Yesterday evening, Paul and I picked up Alverda at her daughter's on the westside.  Unlike our usual birthday dinners with Donna and Pam, who both happened to be unwell, we three were going to have a birthday dinner together at Ristorante Italiano.

On the eve of becoming 88 years old today, Alverda, with the help of a walker and cane, was sharp mentally about her nemesis in Santa Cruz, her forthcoming book on Davenport (part of Images of America series by Arcadia Publishing), and her cruise plans with her niece, after the book. Apparently she was extremely proud of her high achieving daughters, grandsons and a soon to be born great granddaughter.

We have known Alverda Orlando since May 1996, when I started to substitute for Santa Clara County Library. I was moving from Berkeley to Santa Cruz while Alverda had just retired from Santa Cruz Public Library. Together with two other women, we four started our three-day training workshop. One morning in the parking lot of the Cupertino Library, Paul asked if afterwards, Alverda could give me a lift to Santa Cruz and she said "Yes," which started our unusual commuting and friendship.

During the two decades' time Alverda has been like a grandmother to Nick, and a family friend and mentor to both Paul and me. Together, we have undergone many good times and setbacks, but in the end we are sitting together, enjoying our meat sauce ravioli and spaghetti and meatballs, and ice cream.

Happy Birthday, Alverda. Marching forward to your 90s, since you have just renewed your contract with God.

Lew in Sentinel

An obituary for Lewis Gene Weinstein (1934-2018) was published in Santa Cruz Sentinel today, after his passing on 1/17/2018. It traces his life, such as his childhood, education, independent but private personality, successful career in social work, and final retirement life in Aptos, California.

While reading it, I could not help but think about my life since June 1996 back in Santa Cruz. I remember that Lew was so excited he told Paul that he was going to hike and garden with us. At his guidance, we planted two kinds of gladioli, pink and deep red, along the fence of our residence at 1842. That summer Paul and I were rewarded with many splashes of colors. Later, we dug out some bulbs for our own house at 1887. Surprisingly, one of the transplanted pinks gladioli bloomed last June after more than two decades' dormancy in the ground.

We ended up not hiking one single day together after all. Lew was just retired from his part-time consultation work whereas I had a family to support, by becoming a substitute librarian for both Santa Clara County Library, and San Jose State Library for 1.5 years, and working full time for DIALOG for another 1.5 years, until the company was relocated from Mountain View to North Carolina.

During the chaotic period of job loss, and new job hunting, Lew was with us 100%. He took care of Nick in his Aptos home while Paul and I were in Cary, training new teams. When a duplex became available on our same street, he immediately came and asked us to let Joe and Linda, our realtors, put our names on the top of their list. He also recommended to us his capable loan officer, so as to make Paul and my combined income work for the house loan. With his wise advice, our family savings and support, we got our dream home in August, 1998. It is truly sad to see that Lew, the instrumental friend, is no longer with us.

One of the lessons Lew taught us is be confident, and independent. During my nearly two decades' service at Santa Cruz Public, I have run into many a familiar mortal coil, and bully in the workplace. With justice and law on our side, I have dealt with one difficult situation after another, and manged to speak my own mind and serve the public fairly and equally, which is borne out by my 9 papers and one monograph.

Thank you, Lew! Rest in Peace.

   

Mass for Jim King

Yesterday at 11:00 am, Paul and I met in the library parking lot, and then walked together to Holy Cross Church to attend a Wednesday Mass for our friend, Jim King.

The presiding pastor's sermon zoomed in on one word, JUSTICE, to describe the life and work of James Moore King (July 30, 1943-November 11, 2017). Jim was one of those lawyers who seeks justice in the courtroom, as a way of life, as a whole. His sense of justice was for a vision of peace on earth. That’s what Jim was: thirsty for justice. That’s the way Jim lived his life.

The pastor also pointed out that justice, death, and freedom were a metaphor for human relationship, moving to the life of other people. He emphasized listening, truly listening, and genuinely listening, which enables human relationships. He also stated that Death could also be served as a bond for bringing people together, for there was someone more important for the time being. It was a one on one relationship.

After the mass, the King family invited all guests to a lunch in the Church Hall. The immediate family focused on the quarter century marriage between Jim and Sharon, whereas his long time friend Bernard recalled a series of worthy and mutual causes shared by himself and Jim. Together they won remarkable cases with local governments. To them, winning was not all about money, but the principle.

I did not stay to the end of lunch, due to many office tasks awaiting me. On my walk back, I could not help but recall the first time I saw Jim King one spring Friday evening in 1989. Dr. Vivian Sobchack brought both Jim and Paul to Porter College to see an ongoing art exhibit there. Jim was very witty with his slightly tipsy pink face and sparking eyes, which never dimmed hence. Jim relished reading the local newspaper Santa Cruz Sentinel, and never missed anything. If Paul and I happened to have a piece in it that day, he would invariably make a point that we had been noticed, when we chanced to meet him downtown. We never got to see Jim regularly ever since he sold his house on the West Side, and eventually moved out of Santa Cruz to Arcata.

During the lunch, his younger stepson talked about his initial sternness as a stepfather. Such sternness was apparently transformed into a gentle reminder whenever he saw Nick, "Stay with school, as long as you can."
 

A Time for Everything: Pauli Is One-Month-Old

      1 There is an appointed time for everything. And there is a time for every event under heaven—
      2 A time to give birth and a time to die; A time to plant and a time to uproot what is planted.
      3 A time to kill and a time to heal; A time to tear down and a time to build up.
      4 A time to weep and a time to laugh; A time to mourn and a time to dance.
      5 A time to throw stones and a time to gather stones; A time to embrace and a time to
         shun embracing.
      6 A time to search and a time to give up as lost; A time to keep and a time to throw away.
      7 A time to tear apart and a time to sew together; A time to be silent and a time to speak.
      8 A time to love and a time to hate; A time for war and a time for peace.
      9 What profit is there to the worker from that in which he toils?   
     10 I have seen the task which God has given the sons of men with which to occupy themselves.

 Looking back at our life in last two months' time, we cannot help feeling how truly Ecclesiastes 3 has reflected what we have gone through recently. On 15 December 2017, we celebrated the wedding of Wendy and Peter; on 20 December, we greeted the birth of Pauli. On 15 January 2018 we mourned the passing of Lew.

It is a busy time quickened by the fast pace of digital age. We need to slow down, taste and live every moment thoroughly. Or everything will go like a blurring blink.

Wendy Is Married

Yesterday evening, our niece was married at Il Buco, an Italian restaurant at #47 Bond Street. Paul and I were expressly invited to this rustic and intimate wedding held in the hustle and bustle of Manhattan, the heart of New York City. Needless to say, it is one of the most special weddings for us.


At a long table, 28 of us were treated with numerous courses of Italian delicacies consisting of a great variety of wines, cheeses, olives, seafood, meats, pastas, fruits, and vegetables. In addition, we were greeted with a pronounced friendly atmosphere: the 85-year-old Grandma shared her artistic and professional career with younger generations, friends/schoolmates encouraged each other, aunts supported their nephews and nieces, and cousins spoke about their own academic experiences and tips.

Both Wendy and Peter, the bride and bridegroom, have been well-loved and tendely-nurtured since the day they were born. Like everyone else, both of them have gone through their own life lessons and setbacks. What sets their story apart is their unquestioned family love and dedication. Despite different family backgrounds and cultures, they have finally tied the knot and begun to build their new life based on the same value system, i.e., love for education and challenge for the unknown. With two forces combined, they are now stronger and more resourceful to overcome one obstacle after another. Cousin Nick is a living example.

Halloween Night at Jack O’ Lantern Blaze

We celebrated our 2017 Halloween night at Jack O’ Lantern Blaze. It was a clear but cold evening, with an all but full moon in the sky. After visiting Mom at 8:50 pm, we went on 9A, and chose the exit for Harmon Station. We had to stop hard well before the exit, for there was a longest line of vehicles ever seen, waiting for the right turn to go to the blaze. Five minutes’ motionless wait later, Paul decidedly pulled our car out of the waiting queue, and raced to the next exit. He used the local route and ShopRite parking lot to be not only on time, but five minutes earlier than our 8:30 entrance time.

Once inside, we were delighted to greet our old friends of the Headless Horseman, dragon, mushrooms and sunflowers. There was an endless throng of visitors, many of whom were dressed in Halloween costumes, such as a family of skunks, owls, or fully decked female Michael Jacksons. As if echoing to the public desire’s to return to animals, the blaze featured and introduced variously carved nocturnals, such as bats, opossums, and rats carved out of pumpkins, in addition to long standing animals like cats, snakes, spiders, dinosaurs, or favorite world of the dead, e.g., Washington Irving and other early settlers, tombstones, ghosts, vampires and zombies. 

We were also treated with a series of new programs like a moving train of circus animals. According to one of the posters, Westchester County is the earliest place to start circus animals in America, with an elephant as its first actor. The Statue of Liberty is another new addition, raising visitors pride as well as patriotism to be an American, especially on the very day of lower-Manhattan’s terrorist attack. 

One greeter told us that 10,000 pumpkins were used for the blaze. Several companies were contracted to work on the project since the month of May. We were so delighted to learn that the blaze’s group of four pumpkin carvings won USA 2016 special post stamps. 

The feast of pumpkins made us forget both time and ourselves. It was closing time, past 10:00pm. We left the blaze, with an almost full chip on Paul’s camera. 

Uitwaaien²

This morning, we ventured out to Croton Landing after a day and night’s rain and wind storm. It was cloudy, with the sun peeking out once in a while through multiple layers of grey clouds. There were white clouds, too, floating in the two-toned blue sky, the deep blue overhead, and baby blue near the horizon. The normally calm Hudson River had turned into a sea of choppy brown water full of whitecaps.

Courtesy of Paul Titangos Photography  

There were fewer people walking along the path. However the low number was immediately compensated by ready windsurfers. Before long, one surfer was joined by three more. The especially strong wind, or Uitwaaien² (Uitwaaine squared) as Paul puts it, has its unique functionality: it provides us with both land and water activities.

We experienced the walk in the wind in two entirely different ways. When against the wind, we needed to brace the resistance with all our might. It swept away and scrubbed clean warmth as well as cobwebs from body and soul. It was kind of a refreshing feeling. When with the wind, we needed also to heed its rhythm, or it would brush us off the path easily. A realization dawned on me that it was just like a re-enactment of life. When torrents of change come, following blindly with the trend might not be adequate and secure. Resistance can be also richly rewarded. That’s the beauty of Uitwaaien².

Uitwaaien along Hudson

Paul told me that BBC had broadcast a report on under-used words and mentioned a special Dutch word for “walking in the wind to clear one’s head.” Out of curiosity, we Googled it at our breakfast table and located the spelling and pronounciation for “uitwaaien.”

Even though I did not know it in the past, I was instinctively aware of this special wind’s effect on me in my weekday walks along Chestnut, or weekend walks on East Cliff. So grateful that countless frustrations and disappointments have been dumped roadside, which makes it possible for us to go forward and onward.

This time in our walk along the the Hudson River, uitwaaine is particularly pronounced. It is cool and soothing, reminding us that life is beautiful, even though it is full of ups and downs. It is also like a gentle healing hand, patiently helping us to rebuild our health, by incrementally increasing the duration of our daily walks from half an hour to a full hour and more. 

The walks along the Hudson in Croton-on-Hudson, New York is not quite the same as strolling along California’s Monterey Bay. But it has the same uitwaaien, enabling us to create a newer and clearer mind. I understand that such a state of mind will be again contaminated in no time once back to our daily work. It is a pure joy to relish the pristine uitwaaine once in a while!

Courtesy of wordables

Thursday Evening with Louise Penny

Last Thursday evening, I was treated by Dody to a book talk by Louise Penny at the Peace United Church in Santa Cruz. Also joined us was Gail. I was amazed by the massive crowd turned up in an endless queue waiting for the church door to open. By the time we found out seats, I looked around at the packed hall. There were at least 700-800 retirees, according to our Leslie A’s estimate of the hall capacity.

Penny is a very lively and personable author. After photographing her audience, she dived right into her personal and professional life. Candidly she recalled her childhood. She was a girl with vivid imaginations, visualizing her mother as a queen. Her dream pastime is read alone with feet up in her bed, since eight years of age. She suffered from a mild symptom of Arachnophobia, which morphed later into a fear of failure. She wanted to be a writer, but did not dare to announce it. Penny worked as a journalist for nearly two decades with Canadian Broadcasting Corporation, and learned to listen to people. Tired and unhappy about politics in Quebec, she became a full-time writer in her forties, at the wholehearted support of her husband Michael.

Still Life was her first book. It took her three years to complete. Once the book was finished, she went to a local independent publisher, and was advised to contact crime fiction agents worldwide. In the next two years, she received only one reply, with word NO. At the suggestion of a friend, she entered British Debut Dagger by The Crime Writers' Association. She received an answer that her book was on the shortlist among 800 contestants. The real reward for her was sit with a roomful of people she had wanted to meet. Three names were given, but she neither saw any of them nor win the award.

Discouraged back home, she was asked by Michael to a private fundraising party for Afghanistan refugees. It was there she met Teresa Chris, one of the third names she failed to meet at the award ceremony. Teresa has become her agent ever since. As a journalist, Penny firmly believes that she realized small or worst possible things can lead to opportunities. 

For her political viewpoints, Penny and her late husband lived in Toronto for nearly three decades. She preferred to live there, because it was her home. Despite the conflict between French and English cultures, she has no strong view toward Franco or Anglo, but has sympathy for both sides.  

For her literary devices, Penny has drawn her poetic sources from her friend’s posthumous poetry, and Margaret Atwood who provides the poetry for Ruth, a character in her books. She described her writing process similar to a squirrel’s lifestyle, hiding, burying, and planning.

Penny had a writer’s block lasting for more than 5 years. Eventually her husband stopped asking her how her day went. As it happened, she met a group of artists, and was allowed to join in. In them, she saw the strength: when things that did not work at the end of the day, they still got up and continued the creation the next day. Finally she came to two realization: 1) Not trying is the real failure; and 2) Her real writer’s block is a fear of failure and need to be the best which includes her childhood dream of her mother as a queen.

Through the experience of the group, she also got her idea of village and characters. She realized that she needed to write for herself, and enjoy the process of writing. Thus she populated with people in such a village. As for the creation of Chief Inspector Armand Gamache, the main character in her mystery series, Penny has created him as a man she will enjoy the company with, and a man she will marry … perhaps based on her late husband Michael Whitehead? 

Brother Ying in Santa Cruz

Last Monday, Brother Ying paid us a surprise visit in Santa Cruz, while I thought he had left New York for Beijing the previous Sunday. When the phone screen flashed his name and number around 3:00 pm, I could not figure out where he was. “I am in Santa Clara,” he said, “I will treat you and Paul to a dinner,” he told me.

At 6:30 pm, I got home and saw a shining black Mercedes Benz sports car parked before our RAV-4. “Ying is here already,” I mumbled to myself. It was him. As usual, he got a good bargain for his rental: the rental company let him choose any cars on the lot. Of course, the Benz was chosen for a rate of $29 per day. “I remained on the left lane of 17 all the way, effortlessly,” he told us proudly.

We went to Riva Fish House on the Santa Cruz Wharf for our dinner. It was a beautiful evening. At the window table we three sat, enjoying the sunset and our generous seafood plates. Ying had the day’s special of snapper and polenta while we picked Mexican prawn and fish. Afterwards, we sauntered and visited sea lions perched on their usual three places at the end of the wharf. To our delight, we also saw many sea lion families resting on a wooden landing further away.

Paul drove us home on the scenic route. Sipping our green tea and sampling white peaches, we talked about our kids, their present and future, and new technologies. For the first time, we learned about the difference between the deep leaning and incremental learning robotics, and the possible realization of AI (Artificial Intelligence) in the 21^st century. It would be a brave new world, that is for sure.

Around 10:00 pm, Ying bade us farewell to go back to his hotel in Milpitas. Early the next morning, he was due to fly to Beijing. “I will be back September 17,” he told us. His daughter is going to be a new student at Stanford.