It's that time of year again

Every June, I get to dig around into my closet and pull out my robe and hood and walk down the aisle of the Head-Royce School gym and participate in the graduation ceremonies. It's always such an emotional time and I fully admit that when the processional of students begins and Paul C. declares that the commencement ceremonies have begun, I get teary eyed. It's such a proud and happy day for everyone and it's like the parents, faculty and assorted members of the audience are looking at these 81 young men and women at such a seminal moment in their lives. They are about to commence on the journey of life.

This years ceremony was highlighted by the speech given by my colleague, Warren F. Every graduating class gets to pick a graduation speaker from amongst the faculty. The honor NEVER goes to a math teacher, I mean, come on, how can we as teachers of Math inspire greatness in comparison to say, a teacher of the humanities. But Warren is an amazing person and he rightly deserved to speak for the class of 2004. And what a speech it was. We laughed, cried and were uplifted all within a eight minute talk.

The ceremony ends with all of us singing the Head-Royce alma mater, which is set to the song Die Lorelai. The words are definately a holdover from the school's days as a girls only school. The recessional is always set to a song of the graduating classes choosing. The class of 2004 has an affinity towards Disney songs so we got to walk out to "Under the Sea" from The Little Mermaid. The day was glorious. Below are pictures of some of my beloved students. Some graduated, some are juniors but they all have a special place in my heart! Carry on class of 2004. Do great things with your lives.

Emma B. and the Sarah's (K. and H.)

Samantha W. (Cornell bound with leis) and members of the class of 2004

Penny H. of Penny's box fame

Tedd T., one of hardest working students I've ever taught and the nicest

Melissa B., it's all about the connections starting with Frank

The Kens (M. and A.), both in Honors Geometry four years ago

My class of 2005 advisee Max S., aka Mr 16 double zero

Class of 2005 Ari K., high quality basketball player and Precalculus student

Class of 2005 advisee Nick Dantzker (the middle Dantzker)

The Z's. of the class of 2005, Adam and Dane or is it Dane and Adam?

This one's for CP

Am I turning into Roger Ebert?

Due to the fact that I had a three hour wait to get new tires put on my car in preparation for my trip, I decided to spend that time at the Metreon. I saw The Stepford Wives. Commentary on the movie comes later, but I have noticed that when I read movie reviews on MRQE that Roger Ebert basically never gives any movie below two stars out of four. For example, here is his review of The Stepford Wives. See what I mean? I too like every movie I see. I kind of notice it when I see a movie and enjoy it whereas others I talk to upon seeing the same movie say that it sucks. How come I never really think a movie sucks? Perhaps I'm gullible or easily entertained? I worry that perhaps I am not critical enough, but I think I'll look at the world in a glass half full way and just say that my liking all movies allows me to at have fun at the movies instead of always being disappointed. I'll let myself live this lie to cover up what appears to be my utter simplicity and lack of discerning cinematic taste.

Ok, so what about the movie itself? I had never seen the original, but I kind of had an inkling as to the implications of something being "Stepford". Well, as the movie progresssed, I was kind of taken aback at the statement it made not on women, but on men. More to the point, a statement on weak men. I mean, how boring is that to want a partner who doesn't challenge you and does nothing but clean and look great. Ugh. By my not wanting that hopefully makes me a strong (not weak) male. Oh, notice how I use the word partner? There is a gay couple in in the updated Stepford and it's pretty cute. You'll just have to see for yourself. Lead actress Nicole Kidman, however, bugs me. It felt like that she was channelling Meg Ryan for this part. It was Meg Ryan's voice and way of speaking coming out of a plastic looking Kidman. Hey, there's some criticism for you!!! Maybe, I'm not as soft as I think I am. Lastly, Matthew Broderick? Looking so cute even with a bit of a tummy starting to show.

Good Morning Baltimore?!?!?!?!?!?!?

For those of you who know me well, you know that I have a love/hate relationship with the city of Baltimore. I spent two years there in graduate school at The Johns Hopkins University when I was 23 and 24. In reality, I should not have been in graduate school to begin with, but couple that with it being my first time ever living in an inner city, it was an eye-opening experience to say the least.

So what should have I expected from a John Waters movie turned into a musical? A trip down memory lane with many references to Baltimore streets and landmarks. Last night, my friend Vern (one of the SATC friends) and Al saw Hairspray, which is touring the country and playing here in San Francisco thorugh the middle of July.

Now, I'm a total lover of musical theater. Hello, I'm gay! The opening song is titled "Good Morning Baltimore" and I knew I was in for quite a night. For those of you who have seen the movie, the musical is just as good, if not better. The songs were right on and the dancing was great. Certainly having Bruce Vilanch playing Edna Turnblad making politically pointed jokes about Arnold (is a last name even needed?) was quite a gut buster.

I leave you as I'm humming (good morning Baltimore......)

How the other half lives......

People often ask, "how can you make a living on a teacher's salary?" Well, if you've never made a lot of money, then, it's hard miss what you've never had. However, one of the ways a private school teacher gets paid (never mind the summer vacations) is being invited to play at the most exclusive private golf club in Northern California, The Cypress Point Club. The Cypress Point Club is located at a simple left turn about a quarter mile past the famed lone cypress tree overlook on 17 Mile Drive on the Monterey Peninsula.

I was an invited guest of Frank H., the CEO of Transamerica. By luck of the draw, I taught his daughter Sarah, as both a freshman in Honors Geometry and as a senior in AP Statistics. Sarah is one of those girls that I love and she and I got along famously. A shout out to Sarah as she prepares to enroll at Duke in the fall. Anyway, Frank (right, below) and I played with his friend Jim T. Below is a picture of us on the tee of the 15th hole. It was taken right after I hit an 8 iron to within 15 feet of the hole. I sunk the putt for a birdie. It's too bad our bodies block the picture of my ball on the green.



The Cypress Point Club has only 240 members and has only a golf course. No tennis courts. No other athletic facilities. All you have is a golf course with a very elegant and simple club house with a small building with four rooms for club members who don't live in the area to stay in. I must say that it is this very comfortable simplicity that makes the Cypress Point Club (and also Pine Valley in New Jersey which I have also played) so wonderful. The uber-rich have no need to show off their wealth in terms of ostentacious goods and buildings. Simple, elegant and refined is all they need. In addition, the elite class is also really nice. All the people I met at the club, and most certainly Mr. H. are gracious and always have a kind word. I felt no pretension or sense that these people needed to show off. All these members of Cypress Point could buy and sell those pseudo upper class hanger on's a thousand times over. I was immediately put at ease and I had a WONDERFUL experience.

So how did I play? For those of you who do not want a play by play description can skip the remaining parts of this post. Oh, one last thing, the 15th, 16th and 17th holes of the course are the most famous because they are played right on the edge of the ocean. A picture of 16 is below with the seals as spectators.



So, the first hole is a long downhill par 4. I played onto the green in 3, but three-putted for a 6. The speed of the greens was absolutely something I had never experienced before. The par 5 2nd is the number one handicap hole. I hit a great drive, shanked the second, hit a great third and pitched to within 10 feet for a par putt, but didn't make it and make a bogey 6. The front nine is inland and played through dunes and trees. The 3rd was a par 3. I hit a shot that was the right distance but just off the green. I pitched onto the green and again, three putted for a five. The fourth was a long par-4. I hit a drive off the the right and it hit a tree and bounced back into the fairway. I nailed a three iron to within 3 feet of the cup for a birdie. Now, if I had been playing with my regular buddies, I would have had to actually made the three foot putt. I guess the elite let all these as gimmies. I think throughout the day, I holed out only half the time.

Numbers 5 and 6 are long par 5's. On 5, I shanked my way up the green for a 7. On six, I hit a great drive and great three iron to within a hundred yards of the green. Things went haywire and I scored another 7. Hole 7 is a par three on which I nailed a four iron that rolled back off the front of the green. I got up and down for par. Number 8 is an AMAZING hole. It is a 90 degree dogleg right that is played over the dunes. I pushed my drive to the right into the dunes. At this point my caddy Marty (he's pictured below)



handed me a wedge and told me to get back into the fairway. I didn't take his advice and it took me four more strokes to get out of the dunes since I played towards the hole instead of laterally. From then on, I always took Marty's advice. Hole 9 is a short par four and I hit my second shot to what I thought was pin high right. Instead it landed five yards over and in a dune again. I pitched onto the left fringe and then hit my subsequent putt OFF the green some 50 feet farther away then where I was. 7 again.

10 was a par five and I had my only flat out top of the entire round. Another 7. Hole 11 turns around and heads towards the ocean. The course is building towards the finale of the holes on the ocean. 11 is rather nondescript and I scored a 6. Number 12 is another dogleg where the green is unseen from the tee. Ignorance being bliss, I hit a huge drive over a bunker that most people don't even try. My second shot was again five yards off to the right of the green and I was again in a dune. I made 5.


The above picture is hole 13. I hit a poor drive short of the fairway in a grassy area. I nailed a great 3 iron onto the green and made 5. Number 14 is a hole that has a wide fairway but then there is a narrow chute through which you must play to the green. I unfortunately hit a bad drive off to the right, and had to pitch into the chute and then play to the green. 7 again. I birdied 15 as I mentioned above. Then we came to 16. What an amazing hole. It's a 235 yard par 3 played over the ocean. It looks like it's longer than that, even. I hit a driver that faded off the right, hit off the rocks and into the ocean. My provisional ball, ended up on the beach to the left of the green. It's obvious that golfers hit here all the time as there are stairs onto the beach. However, the green is some 15 feet above the beach and there is a cement wall acting as a sea wall against erosion. I successfully got my ball over the wall into a bunker. I made 7. The 17th tee is on a spit of land that sits above the 16th and it is such an amazing vista. There is a plaque that has inscribed something to the effect of "let us rejoice and be grateful for being one of the lucky few to have had the opportunity to stand on this spot and to have walked these grounds." AMEN, BROTHER. I hit a great tee shot. The second shot must be played over a huge stand of cypress trees. I pushed it, but ended up in the fringe. Bogey. 18 is short uphill par four. I bogeyed.

Overall, I think it adds up to a 99. What a great day. After golf, Frank, Mr. T. and I dined in the Sam Morse dining room. No menus. The server gives the salads and sandwiches available and then they are made to order. A plate of cookies sat on a table in the middle of the room. Serve yourself.

Ahhh, the good life. The H. family has another daughter who will be starting 7th grade in the fall. I might be back here again in a few years.

Model Patient?

So I spent the afternoon of Tuesday, June 8th serving as a model patient for first year UCSF medical students practicing their different kinds of examinations. I was hooked up with this because a friend of mine from bookclub (a shout out to H. Carrie C. from H. Ernest Chen) runs a part of the medical education component of the UCSF medical school. I am usually put in either the full physical examination or a more basic musco-skeletal exam. One of the reasons Carrie asks me to do it is because I have such interesting findings that the first year students have never come upon. Usually, the potential doctors start at the top of the head and work down. As we all know, above the knees I am perfectly normal. However, once they get below the knee, things start going HAYWIRE. When they test my reflexes, nothing happens. The students always hit my knees looking for a my leg to move. They keep hitting for a while until the observing physician tells them that I don't have reflexes. As the exam continues, the observant students notice the big scar on my side and by asking me about are able to start deciphering what is going on. Because of the surgery on my back, I have neurological deficiencies in my lower extremities, one of them being my reflexes (I think). The more curious finding that comes for the students is when they do a test on my feet, called the Bubinsky (sp?). By running their finger along the bottom of my foot, my toes should curl under, but mine don't. This is also a function of the lingering neurological deficiencies as a result of my accident. Overall, it's an interesting experience.

So many of you are probably wondering why I have a picture of a robot at the top of this post. After my work at the UCSF clinic, I spent a couple hours exploring SF before I was to meet Helena, her husband David and Andrea (my prom date), all friends of mine from high school, for dinner. I was wandering in Pacific Heights looking at all the big mansions and I'm kind of just looking around and I notice their robot structure in the front yard of one of the LARGE homes on Broadway. I think this is a symbol of my upcoming trip this summer. I hope to take the time to observe and see things that the usually driven Ernie tends to miss. This is going to a summer of taking my time and seeing what I will usually miss.

Sex and the City

Every male (especially gay males) needs friends like these. The long time friends who know all the dirty details of your life, the people in your life who you feel comfortable revealing all of your problems, fears, conquests and loves to without judgement. I can't claim that there are no catty remarks, but it is all done with love and affection. It is with my "Sex and the City" friends that I spent a wonderful Sunday afternoon. Wells, Vern, Thomas and I (sans Jose since his flight from SF to NYC) have been friends since we all rowed together in the late 90's. We gathered yesterday in Wells' backyard at noon for brunch and hours of conversation. If we had to assign roles, Thomas=Samantha, Vern=Miranda, Wells=Carrie which leaves me with Charlotte. Under the shade of a large tree, we dissected each other's lives in a way that only good friends can. It's unfortunate that the four of us live in three different area codes within the SF Bay Area and aren't as accessible to each other as the four women are on the show, but we try to meet up once a month. Yesterday was a bit out of the ordinary since it was at Wells' home. Usually, we meet up for dinner in the Castro followed by a trip to Badlands. I still have a smile on my face today from some of the things that were discussed yesterday. You want to know what they are, don't you. Sorry, it's only between me and the boys. As they say, what happens in the Vegas, stays in the Vegas.