Every Step is Progress

Remember my occasional reference to the condo conversion process that my building partners and I are going through? Today, one of the major hurdles has been completed. We had the meter for the common area installed.

The meter for the common area

As usual, the backstory. In each and every condominium complex, and we are trying to have our building declared as two condominiums, there is almost always areas of the building that can be accessed and used by any members of the condominium association. The common area for our building is the garage in which we store our stuff and where my washer and dryer is. Because the common area is on the same level as the lower level of my unit, all of the electricity that was used in the common area was attached to my PG&E bill. To turn the building into condominiums, we have to formally peel off those outlets in the common area into a third electrical system. This required an electrician (obviously I couldn't do anything like this) and by far the most expensive portion of this process. Back in September, we forked over a hefty chunk of change to an electrician to do the work.

The newest fuse box is on the right

Today, PG&E came and installed the meter as seen above. The journey continues.

Some Thoughts on "Yellow Fever"

I received a couple of emails from friends about the contents of the two clips I posted last week. In response to "Yellow Fever", I wrote this:

"I've been pointing out the Asian Girl/White Guy thing forever, BUT I do think that we are in the time of the rise of the Asian male. Seriously, with the advent of Yao Ming and Japanese baseball players, Asian men are competing on the ultimate of male battlegrounds, sports. And once we can demonstrate equality on that front, everything else will fall right into place."

I have had a number of other significant insights, planned and unplanned over the course of the past week. Some overwhelming, and some providing explanations for many questions I've had rattling around my brain. This isn't the right forum to disclose, but know that I'm churning through some personal stuff, and it's healthy!

My Act of Civil Disobedience

On the days I take public transportation to work, my day starts off with a short walk and then a 6 (long) block bus ride to the BART station. The 14-Mission and 49-VanNess are the two buses that run along this section of Mission Street. Theoretically, these buses should arrive every five minutes or so. However, that is rarely the case and when a bus does arrive, it is packed to the gills. It isn't a pleasant way to start one's day.

However, it is my feeling that SF Muni can run more buses or at least keep the spacing betweeen buses constant. It is not an unusual occruance to for three or four buses to be lined up and driving one right behind the other. On the way home at the end of the day, I often can walk most of the six blocks from the BART station home before I even see either a 14 or 49.

So, as of late, if a bus arrives standing room only, I board the bus from the rear door where exiting passengers are getting out. I refuse to pay $1.50 for a service that I don't deem worthy of my money. Granted, I know that by not paying my fare is increasing the burden of MUNI and asking them to improve service without the benefit of my money, but still it makes me feel better knowing that I'm sticking it to the man, even though ultimately the man is myself.

Yellow Fever

I know that this is my second video clip posting in a row, but TRUST me on this, watch this clip from beginning to end. Mom, that means you too. The people who made this video are BRILLIANT. Alas, I've been making this observation for years and as I was watching I was HOWLING. When was the last time I capitalized three words within a posting. Trust me, when was the last time I led you astray? Ok, don't answer that. Just hit the play button.

Ghostride the Volvo

Ghostride the Volvo


The two protagonists of this short clip are HRS graduates, class of 2002 if I remember correctly. I enjoyed it but I think I'm missing something because I don't what "ghostriding the volvo" means. Do I take it at face value? Or was there a song of this name written as a take off of "Ghostbusters"? Is there significance that a Volvo is being ghostridden? Is ghostriding have something to do with driving around with the doors open and on top of it? Someone help give me context!!

But, another big deal here is that I figured out how to post YouTube videos into my blog. It is SO easy, no wonder Google bought up the site.

All for the right to not have to.....

Each and every year (well, except for last year), the first weekend in December finds the Math Department heading down to the Asilomar Conference Center on the Monterey Peninsula to attend the Northern California Mathematics Teachers' Conference. Tradition has it that we drive down Friday after school check in to the same motel and then have a wonderfully festive and expensive dinner on the Department's dime. After dinner we generally gather to play a game (Pictionary or Settlers) and then hit bed to get an early start to the day on Saturday.

Over the course of many years, my snoring has been foisted on any new male department member by making him my roommate. This year, I was to get my own room sparing every male the painful experience of my nocturnal sounds. Except this week a wrench was thrown into the works. One of my colleagues companion (this is a story in and of itself but since it's my blog and his story I can't tell it) will be joining us and so he is getting the single and I am going to have to share a room.

So what is the Math Department way to equitably decide who has to room with me? I posted on the whiteboard in the department room, a challenging extra credit problem I gave to my Honors Geometry classes that I didn't know how to do. Last person to solve it is my roommate. There was frantic scribbling all after lunch.

On an ironic note, the first person to give me the correct answer (I have the answer book but not the solutions manual) was a senior girl who was given the problem by another senior. She figured it out during her last period Neurobiology class.

Where are you on the political spectrum?

CENTRISTS espouse a "middle ground" regarding government control of the economy and personal behavior. Depending on the issue, they sometimes favor government intervention and sometimes support individual freedom of choice. Centrists pride themselves on keeping an open mind, tend to oppose "political extremes," and emphasize what they describe as "practical" solutions to problems.

So there you have it. Where are you? Take the 10 questions quiz here.

Slate's Green Challenge

As a diversion from the twice-yearly pain that is writing comments about each of my students, I have discovered podcasts and that led me to visit The Green Challenge at Slate.com.

Here's a result of my carbon footprint:

Your annual carbon emissions are 15,829.6 lbs.

That's equivalent to the emissions from 1.55 passenger cars.

Average carbon emissions per year, per person:
United States: 44,312
Qatar: 117,064
France: 13,668
India: 2,645
Kenya: 440

I think I may have underreported a couple things but I do know that I am on the low end of energy consumption living in a place where I don't have to air-condition and the fact that I don't fly on a plane more than twice a year. My taking BART to work a couple times a week is a big reducer as well. I'll try and follow the course of actions that the site suggests to reduce our carbon footprint by 20% over the next eight weeks.

It would have to be that one, of course...

This past Friday, the Head-Royce School Annual Fair went off without a hitch. This being the second year I have been the coordinator, there were fewer kinks and from the outside, appeared to go on seamlessly. But of course, I have some story to relay. This one just happens to involve another faculty member. It has become apparent that most of the run-ins I've had in my tenure at HRS (or even Lawrenceville for that matter) have been with other adults. It is partially a matter of two adults having to deal with each other and compromise which both find difficult because both are used to being the ultimate authority in the classroom and their word most frequently being the final word.

So, as usual, some background is needed. The crux of the fair is the activities and games that different clubs/classes/groups sponsor for the little kids. For many of these groups, it is their main fundraiser of the year or they donate their earnings to a worthy cause. Early in September, I posted a blank copy of a School Fair application on my website and blank copies on the board in the main hallway. I had a couple annoucements made at our twice weekly morning meeting over the past six weeks. The deadline (which is SO not enforced at HRS) was Friday October 13th which was the Friday before the Fair. Most groups followed the instructions and were assigned a space at the Fair. There were a couple stragglers, but by the Tuesday before the event, things were in place.

Then at 12:15PM Friday afternoon, just over five hours from the start of the Fair, a student comes in and asks me where their booth was located because she didn't see it posted on the map I created. I told her that I never received a form from her group and because there were no spots available that she was out of luck. After a bit of hemming and hawing, she went to locate the club member who was supposed to turn the form in. Twenty minutes later, the faculty advisor to this club asks if there is any special consideration I could give to this club. He says he signed the form and that would I be willing to let them into the Fair. I gave my standard, no form and no space reply. At that point, the tone of voice changed and the faculty member stated that we should probably speak in private and at that point I was told that this group (which didn't exist in the past or if they did it was under a different group name) had always been a participant at the Fair and that should be enough. I, like most human beings, when told that they should do something in that tone of voice will NEVER allow the other person to win and could not be persuaded to find that group a spot.

About a half hour later, a member of the group who is one of my favorite students, asked if there was anything I could do. I found them a spot, which was located behind another building that wouldn't have my foot traffic, but I accomodated them.

Fast forward to Monday afternoon and I am tallying up the earnings of each of the booths. Most of the groups counted their tickets and so it was a matter of jotting down the amounts. There were a couple groups for which I had to count tickets. I posted the earnings of each group and submitted the values to the Business Office so the groups could be credited that amount.

An hour after I posted the earnings list. Guess who comes by to ask what happened to that groups earnings. F*** Why of all the groups could I not anywhere find an amount for that group? Did I not transfer it from my written notes onto the word processing document. Of course that sheet with my written notes was gone. And I had recycled all the bags of tickets earlier in the day. Of all the groups that I could have forgotten, it had to be this one.

So, tomorrow, I have to face the music and confess to the faculty advisor of that group that I don't have a record of how much that group earned. Damn.....

Ernie and Michigan's 6th Congressional District Part II

My friend Peter S. sent me this email today after having read my previous entry about my admiration for my friend Dave F's partner for running against a longtime incumbent congressmen, Fred Upton, from Michigan's 6th Congressional District, which takes in the Southwest corner of the state. Here's the contents of Peter's email:

Hey, you forgot the 3 most important details in your post about Fred Upton.

1. My family moved to Washington DC when my Dad went to work for David Stockman as his Deputy Director of Management. Stockman left that House seat to take the OMB job.

2. My Dad is pretty friendly with Upton.

3. I worked for Fred Upton for 3 days. I got an unpaid internship in his office the Summer of '88 after I graduated high school. It was stultifying. I got a call after several days from the Great Falls Village Green Preschool asking if I'd take a job there -- and that they'd pay me extra if I drove the school for field trips. Done! Driving the school bus was great!

I demand an addendum to the blog post!

What connection between myself and this district might come up next?

What a soon to be talking child sounds like on email

Longtime readers will certainly remember the brouhaha that I caused around the holidays last year when I had my flip out over my friends' small children. In my list of rant items, I definitively stated that I found it quite annoying and not in the least charming when my friend put their "not yet talking but definately making noises" toddler on the phone to "say hello."

So yesterday I got an email from my dear friend Catherine V-S and she got me with the following:

"L would like to type--is this that awful equivalent of putting the kid on the phone--he's asking for a turn though--so here he is.

mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhjjjjjddddddddddddssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss
j555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555llllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll


lllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll;vvvvvvbbbbbbvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvhkhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh;;.k;//////////"


All I can do is laugh and admit that I'm never going to win this one.

Hardly Strictly Bluegrass Music Festival

The frequency of my postings to the blog this fall has been low and that has mostly to do the return to the daily/weekly rhythm of being back in school. Add to that the fact that I am doing the same things, for instance planning the school fair, that I've written about in years past, hasn't given me much to write or expound on. Keeping this blog has given me pause to realize that I need to shake up life a bit and do things that expose me to new things or learn about new things. That's why there is the flurry of woodworking home improvement projects. Yesterday, I decided that since I've always loved Bluegrass music (not exactly something you would expect from an Asian-American guy who grew up in the Pacific Northwest) and brave the enormous crowds to attend the free of cost The Hardly Strictly Bluegrass Festival held on the Speedway Meadow of Golden Gate Park here in San Francisco. The reason why it is free of cost to all of us who attended is well documented in this story on NPR. The weather for the three day event was perfect (remember that the best months of weather in San Francisco are September and October) and attendance this year was estimated at 350,000. My friend Jason L. and I heeded the suggestion of taking public transportation and arrived around 3PM Sunday afternoon. There were five different stages, each with a separate lineup of performers. Jason and I found a nice spot on top of the Southern ridge that rises above Speedway Meadow. The headline act of the festival (and from what I gather each of the previous five festivals) was Emmylou Harris. Thanks to Jason and the two sisters who sat behind us for giving me the reasons why having Emmylou's presence at the festival was so significant. During the three and a half hours at the festival, we heard two other bluegrass bands in addition to Harris.

It's ironic that for a self-proclaimed "music really doesn't interest or resonate with me" person that I've gone to two concerts in the past two weeks. I'll attribute it to the "growth" I'm working on and expanding the things about which I can blog.

Saving a piece of my childhood

Turtleback Mountain, Orcas Island, WA (Photo Credit Seattle Times)

Many great childhood memories I have took place on Orcas Island, a group of idyllic islands in the Northwestern corner or Washington State (and for that matter the Lower 48 of United States). First off, the humorous part would have to be the picture of a bunch of Asian-American families travelling en masse to a beachfront chunk of land on Deer Point of Orcas Island. My family as well as the group of families that formed to social community in which I grew up would go up camping at least three times every summer. The amenities were few, a rundown trailer, an outhouse and a spigot with running water. The rest of the seven acres, which was owned by my parents and two other families, was overrun with nature. But the fact that we owned half of the beach of a small cove was amazing, and only as an adult do I truly understand how special it was. I say was because the land was sold by the three families in the mid-90's to someone who contacted my parents and their fellow co-owners and offered up an ungodly amount of money to buy it and so my parents and et. al. sold it. This was a tragedy most devastating to the six children of the owners. We six still mourn the loss.

Our families would set up tents and we children would play on the beach, dig up crabs, skip rocks, attempt every summer to climb just a bit further out towards the tip of the cove and watch the fog roll in and out to reveal or hide the "disappearing islands" offshore. We would all go to Moran State Park and get driven to the top of Mount Constitution and then hike (or in many cases run) down the mountain to Cascade Lake where our parents were waiting for us. Our parents would play set up folding tables to play Mah-Jongg (picture my mother and her friends playing Mah-Jongg amidst the towering trees of Orcas Island) into the night time hours. We would BBQ traditional camping food but it was always served with traditional Chinese dishes that our Mom's could pack up in a cooler. And somehow, I remember us always having fireworks. Certainly we were up there on 4th of July and that made sense for fireworks, but we were always setting off fireworks, so we must have brought them every single visit.

As you can tell, I speak of these childhood camping trips to Orcas Island with great fondness. The memories are even more treasured now that the land is no longer in the hands our either my parents or their friends. That's why this story about saving Turtleback Mountain from development struck a chord with me. The Seattle based Medina Foundation has put up the large swath of undeveloped land, currently privately held, up for sale. But in an act of generosity, conservation groups have been given the opportunity to but it first before developers. At $18.5 million dollars, the land could be preserved undeveloped and opened to the public for hiking and general enjoyment. Please consider a donation to the San Juan Preservation Trust. At the site, you can specifically designate your funds toward saving Turtleback Mountain. With a gift of $150 or more, you will receive a Gary Larson (of the Far Side) designed T-Shirt that references saving Turtleback Mountain. I've got my T-Shirt coming.

My most enthusiastic participant wins

The latest word I ask those who leave voicemail messages for me is SYNTHESIZE. For some reason, mostly coincidental, the first person to call me and get my outgoing message with the new word is Joe H. of Greenbrae, CA. He's always in the running for the victory, but as I look back at the winners, he has yet to win, but does have a number of honorable mentions. Well, this week, there was no doubt, he cleverly used the word and trounced all other participants. Here's his message...

I wanted to let you know that my plants are doing wonderfully. The light has been just right this year so the photosynthesis has caused my plants to really bud out" -- Joe H.

Alas, I must report that I am terminating the game as the participation rate has dropped precipitously since its inception in August. So, unless, I hear a groundswell of disappointment over the ending of the game, it is what it is. Thanks to all of you who left me a message with the word of the week whenever it was. I enjoyed your efforts.

Well guess who showed up?

These past few weeks, I have been the beneficiary of my friend Hans' wife's illness. Because she hasn't been feeling well, I've been to a SF Fringe Festival play and last night, to the Tom Petty concert at UC-Berkeley's Greek Theater I have been in and around the Berkeley campus and must have driven right by the Greek many times, but I had no idea that it was this beautiful amphitheater in this grove of trees that I've always wondered why it hadn't been cleared for some building. Now I know why.

Oh, and what about the concert itself? Can I go on about how nice it is to be able to sit outside on a Saturday evening as the sun is going down in the Greek and watching the sunset over the Bay through the trees? It's life in California at its best. Petty was entertaining and I actually recognized about half of the songs he performed, but alas, he didn't do Wildflowers, which is a favorite of mine. Oh, and about half way through, Stevie Nicks showed up and performed along side Petty for a couple songs and for the encore. Definately very cool, and unexpected.

I actually know someone who is running for Congress

I am a political junkie and so I think it's totally cool that I actually know a person who is actually a major party candidate for the United States House of Representatives. Granted, it's a tenuous connection, but it is a connection.

If you happen to be reading this and are a consitutent of Michigan's 6th Congressional District, which encompasses the Southwestern corner of the state, I urge you to check out the candidacy of Democrat Kim Clark. His opponent is Republican Congressman Fred Upton, first elected in 1986, and is a the grandson of the one of the founders of Whirlpool. Congressmen Upton, according to the analysis of his voting record, is a moderate Republican.

You are probably wondering how do I know the candidate? A couple summers back, on my two month roadtrip across the country, I spent three weeks in Chicago and became friends with Kim's partner, Dave F. and that is the connection. According to every prognosticator and election guru, Kim's chances or victory are slim to none. But I applaud him for taking the risk and partcipating in the political system we enjoy.

On a totally random note, the 6th District of Michigan was once represented by a congressman named David Stockman. This is the David Stockman who became Ronald Reagan's Director of the Office of Management and Budget (OMB) and the one who spearheaded the ideas of Supply-Side Economics, which lead to the huge budget deficits of the 1980's. A little history with our posting today, eh?

The bridesmaid becomes the bride

Congratulations to Tim A. or Princeton, NJ for winning the most recent message contest. You all will remember how Tim was runner-up the at the end of first round and his honorable mention. This time, Tim outclassed the field by using the word STAMPEDE in gerund form and in a context that was seamless. The winning message.....

"Hello there, I was calling to return your message and even though you aren't answering I hope there aren't children STAMPEDING all around you." -Tim A.

A surprise phone call and an even better message

The word of the week was DETERIORATE. Before I reveal the winner and their message, I have noticed a dropoff in participation rate of those who have called and left messages when I first began the contest. Those who are experiencing the challenge for the first time are nearly always game to try and leave great messages, or the attempts are hilarious themselves. So a charge to those who have tapered in their enthusiasm to forge on and continue. It's a little brain stretching and improvising that provides much happiness and humor in my day.

Our winner is Emily D. formerly of Berkeley, Santa Barbara and now Boulder, CO. She was in my advising group during my first three years at HRS and, like many of the class of 2001, has managed to keep in contact and move from student to peer. Here is the winning message:

"Hey Chen, I'm calling to chat, as I have appointed you my lifetime advisor. I was wondering if you had any pearls of wisdom on hot to help me manage my money after college before I deteriorate my funds." -- Emily D. (Sept. 2006)

A note on how long a word stays as "the word". When I listen to the messages there are times when I hear one and it simply strikes me as "the one" and at that point, I'll change to a new word. Usually, it takes about a week for "the one" to reveal itself, but for deteriorate, it was about two weeks. I think I have a winner on the first day with the newest word. You'll find out soon enough.

A bigger project

After the success of the flowerboxes from this summer, I decided that it was time to tackle the bookcases that I had been thinking about building in the front room, which I now use as both my office and what, in the olden days, was called a drawing room. For those of you who have been to my home, you'll remember that there was a decorative non-working fireplace against one of the walls. At first I was going to take the fireplace out, but then decided to build AROUND the fireplace. I thought it would breakup the monotony of a wall of shelves. Here's the result:

Like I said last year when I installed the french doors, moulding and trim hide all mistakes and "non-traditional" methods. I'll now add a fresh coat of paint to that list.

Survivor: Cook Islands

Ok, so I have to admit that I think the current Survivor set up is certainly a ratings ploy (there are four tribes that are separated into racial groups), but a part of me is totally rooting for the Asian-Americans to kick butt, especially in the physical challenges. You know if one of the challenges was something academic, there would be no questions who the money would be on. And what happened the first week? The Asian-American tribe (Puka Puka) won the immunity challenge. If you want to be totally entertained, read this this article, The Tribe Has Spoken that was in the San Francisco Chronicle. It had me howling, while bringing up some interesting points of view.

I am going to be a NERT

No, No, not NERD (I already am one of those) but I have started the training to be on my Neighborhood Emergency Response Team. The program grew out of the chaos in the Marina District here in San Francisco after the 1989 Loma Prieta earthquake struck. There were so many people willing to help and the SF Fire Department recognized that. Out of that tragedy the SF NERT was launched. This program to train residents to know what to do to take care of themselves and their families and subsequently go out into their local areas and aid others. Over the course of six three hour sessions, we will learn:

•How to prepare before it happens
•What to do when the earth starts to shake
•Basic Disaster Skills
•Natural gas, water and electrical controls, why, when and how to shut them off
•Types of fire, and using extinguishers to put it out
•Hazardous Materials awareness in the home, on the road, and all around you
•Disaster Medicine
•Health considerations for the rescuer
•Opening airways
•Stopping bleeding and shock position
•S.T.A.R.T. triage
•Minor injuries and burns
•Light Search and Rescue
•Different types of construction and where to look for damage
•How to classify damaged buildings
•Building marking system
•Interior search patterns
•Lifting heavy objects and mechanical advantage
•Victim carries
•Team Organization and Management
•City Disaster Plan and where the NERTs fit
•NERT Incident Command System, managing the disaster
•Disaster Psychology
•Terrorism and NERT
•Extinguishing fires
•Triaging and treating moulaged victims
•Extricating a victim trapped by heavy timbers
•Interior search for reported missing persons
•Exterior building damage assessment

Wow, that's a ton. But the coolest thing is that upon completing the course, I will receive my own yellow hardhat that identifies me as a NERT. I'm a NERT.

You never know what you're going to get

The word of the week was PANACHE, which seemed to fluster more than a few callers. Most of the messages used the word to describe something (or me) as having flair/verve/elan. However, once again Joe H. of Greenbrae, CA gets special mention for using PANACHE as describing a hat with ornamental feathers or a plume.

But the winner this week is John H. or San Francisco who informed me that Panache Choclatier was his chocolate store of choice when he lived in Kansas City, MO. And we have a winner.....

The new word has been recorded on my outgoing message and is ready to go. Have fun!

They must have done their research

The first day of school in August is one of total logistics. It's a bit easier for advisors who don't advise freshman because all of our students already know the ropes and our role is simply to collect forms, distribute forms and make sure we ourselves get our picture taken. It was this last task that threw me off today because instead of sitting on a box and looking at the camera, the photo company now has each and every person KNEELING and then having their hands gripping metal bars at chest height. Yeah, that's what I thought too. I think the shock of this new method for posing just might cause our photos to be even worse than normal. But, as I said, the company must have done tests and research and found that kneeling is the way to go.

A new skill for my resume

PICKLING

Our first winner

Those of you who call me have, for the past six months, heard a very somber sounding outgoing message from me. Last week, my friend Carlos P. said that enough was enough and that it must be changed. Therefore, I have recorded a new outgoing message that has a much more chipper sounding me, but I've also added a bit of a twist. I've instituted, for those who choose to participate, a little contest in which the caller must leave a message and use a word of my choosing. Our word this first week was TURBULENT.

I must applaud my friends and those who called me as 75% went along and successfully used the word correctly in the message. My Mom, however, when she heard the new outgoing message, thought she had dialed the wrong number.

I hope to be disciplined about posting a transcript of the winning message here on the blog. This weeks winner is David C. of Casselberry, FL.

"Oh the turbulent and tumultuous times we live in. My kitty was at the vet getting a bath this morning. She had such a turbulent experience that the vet said please don't bring her back as we will not bathe her"

I must however, include the message left by Tim A. of Princeton, NJ who didn't use turbulent, but went his own way to leave this witty message.

"The state flower of Indiana is the peony. The state bird is the cardinal. And the state..........what would you call Ernie......you're a bit like a stalker. So the Indiana state stalker is Ernie"

Honorable mention must go to Joe H. or Greenbrae, CA for using the adjective and noun form of the work turbulent. One must also go to Carlos P. of Santa Cruz, CA for using the word morose in conjunction with turbulent.

On a whim

While in New York, I got the rare opportunity to chat with my friend Jeff O. He's one of those great friends who I can not see or talk to for two years and when we get together, we pick up where we left off seamlessly. Jeff has spent this past year in San Juan, PR, having the honor of clerking for the Puerto Rico based judge on the United States Court of Appeals - 1st Circuit.

He had invited me (as well as many other friends) to visit him there. Many had, but I had yet to make it there. I learned that the upcoming weekend, August 12th and 13th, was his last weekend in Puerto Rico. I took the bull by the horns, as the saying goes, and extended my trip by five days. Instead of returning to the Bay Area on the 9th as scheduled, I instead flew to San Juan. I landed on the afternoon of the 9th and spent the evening walking around Old San Juan.

A particularly beautiful street in Old San Juan

Jeff's apartment was the top floor of the blue building. It was on Calle de la Cruz in Old San Juan.

I spent Thursday out Ocean Beach and Condado. It was windy and it rained intermittently, but I had a wonderful time walking on the beach and walking back into Old San Juan. Swimming in the ocean was fantastic. That evening, Jeff's former downstairs neighbor, Jeff and I went to an woman's art show and then out for dinner and some open mic music.

On Friday, Jeff had to do some business at the Puerto Rico DMV, called CESCO. I accompanied him just because I sensed that some huge frustrating fiasco might happen and being that Puerto Rico is not an efficient nor customer service oriented culture, I might be witness to some hilarity. Unforunately, everything went smoothly, but I paid for my desire for chaos when later on that afternoon, I got on the bus which ended up going the wrong way and I spent almost two hours on that bus before I returned back to Old San Juan.

On Saturday, Jeff and I rented a car and drove along the "Ruta Panoramica", which traverses the mountainous East/West spine of the island of Puerto Rico. At the end of the day, we strategically ended up near the Western Coast because we were on a quest to find Mangosteens, which are said to be the one of the most delicious things to eat in the world. Alas, we failed. That night, we spent swam in the pool, played ping pong and ate dinner all at The Hacienda Juanita

The view of the Mountains of Puerto Rico from the Ruta Panoramica

Sunday was spent in search of a waterfall, which due to my inability to walk on large slippery boulders, we didn't reach. But we then drove to Shack's Beach where we met up with some of Jeff's friends and spent the afternoon laying on the beach and snorkeling.

This picture doesn't do Shack's Beach justice

I left Old San Juan on Monday, but here are some final pictures.

A view of the "Del Morro", the centuries old fort that guards the entrance to the harbor of San Juan.

A turret along the city wall, which encloses Old San Juan.

Shaved Ice, a Puerto Rican specialty. The flavor here is Guanabana, which I have no idea what that is but I like the flavor.

The area that leads up to the "Del Morro".

What a treat to get to visit Jeff and to enjoy Puerto Rico. But I have to say, the amount of trash that lies on the street and sides of the road is truly shameful. But, in the end, it truly is the Caribbean at its best.

I Heart New York

For a Westerner like me, New York City has been a "scary" place. It's the big city, and back in the 1970's, it was, in my mind, a dirty crime-ridden city. When applying to colleges, I essentially put a big X through the New York Metropolitan Area. While living in Ithaca, my first significant visit to "the City" was with friends as we travelled and stayed with my New York City native friend Nora B. I was so petrified that I memorized her home phone number, which I still can recite to this day.

Over the course of these many years, I would visit New York City many times, but never for more than a couple days and always running around trying to meet up with the friends who were putting me up or when I was at Lawrenceville, making sure I didn't miss the last train back to New Jersey.

I would hear everyone around me rave about New York and there is that rabid core who could never imagine living anywhere else. But, I never really got it. I enjoyed visiting New York, but it wasn't yet in my soul.

Well, things changed during this last visit. I spent four full days in New York, staying two nights at my friend Jennifer C. studio in Murray Hill and then two nights with Peter S. who lives in Brooklyn Heights. Having only to move once changed my entire visit. I arrived on Saturday August 5th in the early evening after a long Greyhound ride from Ithaca. That night, I saw "The Producers". It was great, although I spent a great deal of time thinking about how great it would have been to see Matthew Broderick and Nathan Lane doing the two lead roles.

Sunday morning, I awoke and stepped out in search of Bagels, which I found a mere block and a half from where I was staying. I spent the morning reading the Sunday New York Times in New York City. This leisurely morning was the first I had ever spent in New York. I walked to visit my friends Gayle A and Rob M for lunch and then we all strolled over to Columbus Circle where I bid farewell to them and spent the afternoon in Central Park. That evening, I took the subway to Queens to have family dinner with Jennifer C.'s family.

Monday the 7th had me arise and pop on over to take a tour of the United Nations. After that I packed myself up and moved myself to Brooklyn Heights to meet Peter. He gave me a tour of Park Slope, after which we ate lunch and walked through Prospect Park. In the late afternoon, we walked around the waterfront of the Red Hook neighborhood. I have to give credit to New York for having invested a great deal of money developing and maintaining great parks and green spaces.

Tuesday the 8th was my last day and I started out with a walk along the Brooklyn Promenade and then did a bit of shopping on Broadway in SOHO. Peter met me for lunch at Katz's Deli. This Deli is where they filmed the famous "I'll have what she's having scene" from the movie, "When Harry Met Sally". Afterwards, Peter and I took a tour of the Lower East Side Tenement Museum. I then took a bus down to the South Street Seaport to meet Ian M. to take in The Bodies Exhibition. I then took the subway back to Park Slope to meet up with Peter, Simeon S. and Mary Bentley H. (a shout out to all three for putting up with my surly behavior) at The Applewood Restaurant which was holding a fundraiser for an Upstate New York farm that was devastated by the floods in July.

As you can see, I packed in quite a lot in my four days, but it felt leisurely. I guess what I came to understand and really love about New York City, is that everything is at your fingertips, seemingly 24 hours a day, and usually you are getting the best in the nation, if not world, of what you desire. But mostly, what I came to find fascinating and amazing is the juxtaposition of two things that are completely unrelated. The Tenement Museum is located at 97 Orchard St and right next door, at 95 Orchard St., is the Il Laboratorio De Gelato. How cool is that?

My Nickname was "-2"

The original crux of this East Coast trip was to attend the Cornell Adult University (CAU). I was interested, and partcipated in, a weeklong seminar on the history of the US Senate. Even though my undergraduate major was Geological Sciences (and Economics but the department handed me a degree with me really knowing essentially nothing) I've recently have wondered if I got the wrong major starting with the letter G. If I were to go back to college now, I would more than likely major in Government. The added bonus was that the course was taught by two highly regarded professors who's names were always mentioned in reverent tones. The two professors claimed that teaching in the CAU was a highly sought after gig and one of them boasted that he had started teaching CAU courses in 1968 at which I promptly, and smugly blurt out, "I was -2" and thus I was called by that name.

We had lectures on:
1) The Historical Constructs of the US Senate
2) The Great Compromise of 1850
3) The Impeachment of Andrew Johnson
4) Woodrow Wilson and the Treaty of Versailles
5) Joseph McCarthy
6) The Civil Rights Bill of 1957
7) The Filibuster
8) Watched the movie "Advise and Consent"
9) The confirmation of Clarence Thomas
10) The Impeachment of Bill Clinton

We always had two hour long lectures in the morning followed by an afternoon discussion of the mornings lectures and the current political scene. I found it a totally different educational experience to actually be interested in class enough to listen and not need to take notes because I was absorbing what I was hearing out of sheer intellectual interest.

Outside of class, it was wonderful to be back in Ithaca. If I knew how well alumni were treated, I would have been more active alumni activities earlier!! During the week, I went swimming in one of the famous gorges that border the Cornell campus, ate at the Moosewood restaurant, visited for an afternoon and evening with friends Michelle P and Mike B and their very happy son, Raymond and played a round of golf at the Cornell golf course.

However, on the day before I left, I was in the dining hall grabbing a piece of French Bread before I headed out and I ran into a student that I taught at HRS and was working as an RA this summer. Sam W is in between her sophomore and junior years at Cornell and we spent Friday evening walking around campus and had dinner.

Sam W and I after dinner. I must note that the man who took the picture asked if we were a couple. I don't look that young, people.

In front of the building I lived in my junior year. Nothing has changed.

This last photo needs some explanation. In college, friends of mine would reserve the Lynah Ice Rink for an hour every once in a while, usually at 1AM, and we would get together and play hockey. Well, I tried playing hockey. It was just a blast to get out there on the ice. We took this picture (my friend Jeff O and I have no clue what Omega Beta Kappa was supposed to stand for), framed it and nailed it to the wall of the Chapter House Bar on Stewart Street right off campus. We did this in 1992 and the picture is still on the wall, as seen below.

It's pretty easy to see how young I looked. Jeff is kneeling and is located second from the right in his row.

Who says you can't go "home" again??

A Former Life

For those of you who have always wondered what my life was back in New Jersey when I taught at a boarding school, well, here you are. The first part of my journey took me back to the place where I felt as though I came of age as an adult. My three years there were truly a baptism by fire, but I am the better because of it. I thoroughly loved my three years at Lawrenceville and remember it in my heart with great fondness. Here's what it looks like:

The Chapel which lies around the circular lawn. The grounds were laid out by the famed Fredrick Olmstead; the same man who designed the grounds of Central Park in New York City

The Bunn Library

The Corby Mathematics and Computing Center on right(Yes, it does look like Pizza Hut) and the Science Building on left.

The track and football field

The rear of the Science Center (air is completely recirculated every three to five minutes) and the bleachers to the field. As punishment for their senior class prank in 1998, the seniors had to move every brick from the far end of the field to the base of the bleachers. A comical sight at 8AM the Sunday morning before graduation.

Upper House where I lived with 65 senior boys for two years.

The Haskell House where I spent my third and final year living with 14 (to start by 12 by the end) senior boys.

Where Am I?

Essentially, we can call this two week trip of mine, a journey down memory lane. But it's also serving as a cleansing of the soul as well. More on that later. Flying from Oakland to Newark (via Orange County of all places) I spent the first couple days of this trip at my old stomping grounds of Lawrenceville. I puttered around with Jim J., spent an evening in Philadelphia, and took a nice long walk around campus, where I was filled with emotions of great pride in having spent three years here. It's hard to put into words what I was experiencing, but it must be that same thing that my parents feel when we go and visit some place of significance in their lives, that for me mean nothing, but it brings up something for them. I can now respect that when it occurs for them or anyone else.

A great evening of bonding, eating with Ian M. and a potential celebrity sighting of the star of the moving "Edge of Seventeen", Chris Stafford. But I'd say it's more than 50/50 but I didn't confirm by actually asking the guy who looked like the movie actor, who was sitting a mere two feet from us. By the way, high praise for the movie "Little Miss Sunshine".

Where am I now? In Ithaca, NY for the week. Again, it's another significant place in my life. I'm having those same nostalgic feelings. But it's also here where I am finally ridding myself of my relationship with Scott. I'm sad because I can envision him here taking a Wines course while I sit through lectures and discussions on US Politics. But here I am, alone. It's good to be here alone, although somewhat sad as well. But most important, I think, is that I am sitting with the feelings and letting them work through me and let them run their course. It's not easy to admit to oneself that I'm sad and that there are parts of my life I wish were different and parts of my personality that I could change but that will take immense effort and perseverance, but I guess the journey begins now. The sign? Last night, I deleted Scott's entry in my cellphone.

Onward!

I can complete what I start

Remember those flower boxes I mentioned that I had started to make. Well due to the trips this summer and a lack of motivation to get after my friend to bring over the router for me to borrow, it languished on the back burner for a month. Well, after returning from my trip to visit my family in Seattle, I was on my best behavior by the way, I got the fire to finish up the flower boxes.

Here's a couple of them for you to see.

Angel Island

Ernie's summer adventures continues with a recently completed camping trip to Angel Island State Park. For many of you, this name might ring a bell. It has a long history serving many different functions since the San Francisco Bay Area was discovered by non-natives. Angel Island is a large island in San Francisco Bay. Much like it's more famous sister, Alcatraz, Angel Island can only be reached by boat. However, Angel Island looms much larger and has much more to offer than the prison structures of Alcatraz. In its time, Angel Island was considered the Ellis Island of the west. It processed many Chinese Immigrants through its Immigration Station. The United States Military claimed possesion to it in the early 1900's, through the cold war. Angel Island was the launching point and return point for military men who served in the Asian theater. Many of those structures stand, albeit in no habitable condition, today. Between 1952-64, there were three Nike missile sites on the island. These missles had a range of 25 miles and were eventually rendered obsolete when ICBM's were introduced. Sometime between the 60's and now, the island was turned over to the state of California and turned into a State Park. On the island, there are 8 environmental (no fires allowed) campsites that can be reserved for $20 a night.

My friend Richard and I, after a number of my friends flaked out, set out to spend a couple nights on the island. If you check out this map you will see that our campsite was just above the word "Perimeter" just above Pearl's Beach on the south side of the island. The south side of the island faced San Francisco and here are some pictures of our campsite.

The city of San Francisco directly ahead

The Golden Gate Bridge off to the right

Richard trying his hand at his star chart and SF in twilight

Richard surveying our picnic table. We ate like kings.

My sleeping bag and a fog shrouded Golden Gate Bridge in the distance.

Strange fog patterns such as this morning shot where Alcatraz is the only landmark shrouded in fog.

What I was struck by the most is that the San Francisco Bay Area is still a working port of great magnitude. We saw large container ships enter and exit the Bay by sailing underneath the Golden Gate Bridge almost continuously. The city and surrounding region was originally settled because the Bay provided a calm port to load and unload ships and that is a huge part of the areas economic foundation to this day. I think we here in the SF Bay Area tend to forget that it is the basics such as shipping that what undergird our regions huge success and fortunes.

What the ships also provide is a symphony of foghorns when visibility is low to nothing. Early on during the second morning we arose to a wall of white. We could see nothing beyond the tops of the trees below. However, we could hear all the ships emitting their horn sounds. Usually, one wouldn't even pay attention to these but I was attuned to the different ships' sounds and it was fascinating. It also put a smile on my face.

Thanks to Richard for a great trip. We should do it again sometime!

Read and Follow the Instructions

Yesterday, I received a six page document from the Internal Revenue Service stating that I had claimed too much for my Mortgage Interest Deduction on my 2004 return and I therefore owed the government an additional $1,850 paid within a month.

After doing a bit of sleuthing (thank god I harbor my Dad's gene for filing away documents for situations exactly like this) by reviewing my 2002, 2003 and 2004 tax returns I found that because the 2004 tax return was the first time I calculated my taxes with Turbo Tax and didn't file through my Dad's accountant, I entered my deduction amount on Line 10 of the Schedule A instead of Line 11 and added a statement of explanation at the end.

The issue stems from the fact that the building is owned as a TIC and all the 1098 forms have the name and SSN of one of the other owners, therefore the IRS doesn't automatically apply the portion I paid in mortgage interest to my return. Entering the amount on Line 11 should be done when claiming mortgage interest in the case one doesn't have a 1098. Pretty obvious that I missed that key instruction and that miscue is coming back now.

I went down the the IRS office and consulted with a very helpful agent and was in and out of there in under five minutes. So, I've written a letter explaining my mistake and included a number of supporting documents. I hope this gets resolved quickly.

The silver lining here is that in going over my forms, I may have UNDERREPORTED my actual total mortgage interest because I didn't include the interest I paid on the Line of Credit I had in 2004. So, I actually might get money back from this whole ordeal. Ironic if I actually gain financially from this whole thing.

What good friends are for....

Tickets to daytona .......$140.00
Hot Dogs & Sodas...........$21.00
Picture Number 16 .......PRICELESS

Love you bud - Dave, Thom & Donald

"My life is ironic, yours is just funny"

This was a quote as I was ending my conversation with a former advisee/student of mine who I chatted with as I sat in the New Orleans airport waiting for my flight to Orlando to visit friends of mine who moved from San Francisco last year. Hers is ironic because I've been correctly predicting the events of her life for the past five years and mine is funny because upon arriving in Florida and watching the delay of the shuttle launch, I attended my first NASCAR race, the Pepsi 400 at the famed Daytona International Speedway.

The racetrack is called a "trioval"

The Vice-President was on hand

Members of pit row stand for the national anthem

Our seats were right before turn 1 where the cars exited pitrow

One of the things I learned quickly was that Dale Earnhardt Jr. is beloved and Jeff Gordon is loved by women and hated by men. I really didn't understand it until Jeff Gordon responded to his exit from the race by blaming the "out of control" driving of those racers around him, but taking none of the blame himself. Lame.

Jeff Gordon's #24 car coming to halt after trying to re-enter the race following a crash near with 10 laps left in the race.

I must confess that I had a great time. Just like I found with horseracing, I simply couldn't experience the speed, sound and smells of the race unless I witnessed it live. And Jeff Gordon sucks!

Save the NCCC

What is the NCCC? It stands for the National Civilian Community Corps and the budget planners of the Bush Administration are trying to cut funding for this program. It takes 18-24 year olds from across the country and for 10 months bases them at one of five different campuses across the country, trains them in crisis management and whatever other skills they need to go into any disaster situation and be of assistance.

Why am I such a huge proponent of this program at this time? Because I was so impressed with the quality of young men and women I met from this program in my week of work in New Orleans that I had to publically make a statement of support. Since the days after the flooding of Hurricane Katrina, NCCC have been on site in New Orleans doing hands-on relief work. Groups of 8-12 NCCC members from the different campuses have spent on average two months at the Hands On site serving as leaders for the groups being sent out to gut houses.

Gutting of houses took on three phases, of which I participated in only the first two over my weeklong stay. As you saw in pictures that I previously posted, it starts with removing all the debris from a house that a homeowner wants. Generally, it is everything, save for the occasional lighting fixture or to look out for some precious keepsake, but it's all moved out to the curbside. Currently, the federal government is still paying for debris removal in Orleans and St. Bernard Parishes. Debris removal consists of all major appliances and electrical items. I watched in complete awe and a pride as 19 year old young women of the NCCC enter homes and remove refrigerators (these are NOT to be opened under any circumstances) and hot water heaters without so much as a second thought. Debris removal was generally an all day affair for a team of six or seven, all while wearing the white Tyvek suits in which sweat became a veritable swimming pool inside by the end of the day.

The second phase was removing the sheetrock and the all parts of the house below the water line right down to the 2x4 studs. This again was an all day to two day affair for larger homes. Everything had to be removed and all the studs denailed in order for the third part of the gut to occur, mold remediation.

My experience in all this was one of a 36 year old who just got on site working with the NCCC members who have been here for weeks on end. They were all understanding of when I lost some zip after lunch and let me have longer breaks. But I was inspired by the quality of the work these NCCC members, and the numerous alumni of the NCCC who heeded the call to help, did on all these guts. And they did the work with good cheer, humor and a sense of purpose that the call to service wasn't because of the $4,700 they were to receive upon completing their 10-month service year, it was the fact that this current generation responds to the call of service as a part of their lives, it is ingrained in them and it isn't a burden. Service to others is simply another aspect of their busy fulfilling lives. These members of the NCCC embody that spirit and I urge all readers to write their Congressmen and Senators to save the NCCC and in turn continue to help the residents of the Gulf Coast reclaim their lives.

Scenes of Overwhelming Sadness

No energy to write or process, but here's a few pictures from the start of a "Gut".

2006 Summer Adventure #1

The obvious perk of being a teacher is having the summer months off to do whatever you want. I have resisted the easy way to occupy my summer months, teaching summer school. Usually, I am all about planning my summer months way in advance, most probably because what I’ve wanted to do was easily identified. As of April, I still had only one week accounted for; the rest being a list of possibilities. But about six weeks ago, everything fell into place and my summer plans came together. The first of my adventures of the summer has me in New Orleans doing a week of volunteer work with Hands On New Orleans. A big shout out goes to Hans W. for directing me toward this organization.

I arrived in New Orleans and had the good fortune to get into a cab driven by a Vietnamese immigrant named Lou. In the fifteen minute ride from the airport to the church in which the volunteers like myself will be staying, we struck up a conversation that led Lou to take me my own personal tour of the destruction of New Orleans. Over the course of our hour and a half together, I learned that Lou came to the United States in 1976 and landed in Oklahoma. At some point, he made it to New Orleans, living in the now famous Lower 9th Ward. At some point in the early 1990’s, he went back to Vietnam, got married and had two kids. At some point, he moved them to New Orleans and in time he bought a house in the suburb of Metarie. Lou, like most immigrants, loves the United States and has pretty negative opinions of the African-American population. He said that he through hard work and intelligence was able to buy a house in the suburbs therein lies a pretty sweeping implication. The most interesting, and ear-opening statement Lou made was his belief that the US Government’s post flood response was good, “really great” were the words I remember him using. I asked him to repeat what he said, and I got the same response.

Lou’s personal Katrina evacuation story goes as follows. The day before the hurricane hit, because he had his own car, he got on the freeway and went nowhere. Eight hours before the brunt of the storm, he drove to Baton Rouge. From there, he drove him and his family to Houston. After a week, he drove back to New Orleans and wasn’t allowed to come back so he went to San Diego to live with family members. After two months, he returned back to New Orleans at the beginning of December 2005. I asked why he came back. His response, “because it’s home.”

Coming into the city of New Orleans from the west, once you enter the city, you begin to see houses that are abandoned. There are lots of missing doors and windows and lots of piles in front of homes. It is quite easy to determine how the repopulation of New Orleans is going by simply looking for the white FEMA provided trailers that sit in the driveways and front lawns of homes that have had their owners/renters return. According to Lou, one has to provide proof of occupation and a FEMA trailer was yours. It’s hard to tell what percentage of the homes have trailers in front, but in the Western part of New Orleans, flood damaged, but not in the thoroughly devastating way as seen in pictures of the Lower 9th Ward, it’s about 50%.

Lou took me directly to the 9th Ward where the percentage of FEMA trailers is around 10%. The crossing over the Industrial canal, we entered the Lower 9th Ward, and saw total destruction.

You want to know how high the water level was during the flood? The blue house in this next photo gives a pretty clear idea that it was above the heads of the average person.

Moving east out of the Lower 9th, one crosses into St. Bernard Parish. It is a suburb but since it’s geographically contiguous with the Lower 9th, it too was flooded. In Lou’s words “you go 20 miles and it looks the same.” The sole difference here in St. Bernard Parish is the local officials mandated that FEMA trailers were not to be located on the property of the homeowner. Instead, the trailers are required to be placed together in specifically designated public areas.

A St. Bernard Parish Trailer Cluster/Park

An enterprising St. Bernard Parish government official decided to try and help the parish financially by declaring a part of the Parish “the” hurricane debris trash heap.

As we circled back towards central New Orleans, we got to glimpse the state of New Orleans East. According to Lou, a pair of racially different but economically successful groups inhabits this part of the city. One is upper middle class African-Americans. This group lives the American suburban dream, living in gated subdivisions full of McMansions.

The photo isn’t great and doesn’t show these huge homes that have no inhabitants or sign of life. Even though these homes look inhabitable, I get the sense from Lou’s ramblings that because of the lack of any services, it’s just too hard to try and live here.

The second group in this part of New Orleans is a community of some 70,000 Vietnamese immigrants. Lou thinks that a community of Vietnamese located themselves here because the bayou landscape looks a lot like their homeland. Lou said that a common story here is that many of the residents here got mortgages to buy homes. With that mortgage came the requirement to carry insurance, including flood insurance. Through hard work and thrift, many of these people paid off their mortgages early and didn’t continue carrying flood insurance. Their predicament now is the loss of their homes, but no money to start to rebuild.

I asked Lou whether or not his home was flooded. He said no. I then asked whether or not a higher income level meant you had a higher probability of not being inundated with floodwaters. I asked this because the high rent Garden District and French Quarters were not flooded (the damage in these areas were predominantly wind related). Again, his answer was no. He said it was all luck. The breaches in the levee occurred where they did and didn’t discriminate in whomever’s home it damaged. It’s just that the famous tourist areas and upper income areas were far from the breach. He told me that he was lucky. During times of heavy rains, his home floods as the water level rises, but that the flood from the levee breach occurred on the east side and he lives west of the city. He totally believed that luck played the biggest role in his still having a home.

What is going to be fascinating is to watch the rebirth of these communities. As a teacher of Economics, it truly will be watching an economy grow from scratch. For example, the Home Depot in New Orleans East just opened its doors again last month. We all can imagine what role that will play in getting people to be able to make the repairs to their homes to come back.

I saw so much in the hour and a half that Lou drove me around. I thank him for being willing to show me the devastation and to share with me his opinions. It’s his heartfelt belief that most of the people will return. It might be 5 years until even 50% of residents will return, but in the end, Lou thinks they will. Even for the African-Americans of the Lower 9th Ward, who have the biggest hurdles to overcome. They too will return, Lou said, because the displaced residents are living on the land of their ancestors, freed slaves.