San Francisco, CA to Lewiston, ID

The Sundial Bridge in Redding, CA

The bend in the Deschutes River in Bend, OR

Oregon for Obama (which was Oregon for Hillary just a month ago)

Wrong in so many, many ways

Eastern Oregon

Downtown Walla Walla, WA (home of 26 Brix, an amazing restaurant(

Onions on Parade

Amphitheater on the Whitman College campus

Myself at the Vogel Plant Biosciences Building on the Washington State University Campus in Pullman, WA (proud of my sister's work on this building)

Vogel Plant Biosciences Building

On the left, Lewiston, ID, on the right Clarkston, WA (get it?)

More on Obama

A shout out to Thom B. of Casselberry, FL for A) being a great friend and B) alerting me to this article!

In ANOTHER entry on Obama, this one actually is snippets taken from an article in the San Francisco Chronicle from yesterday titled, Could Obama Be The First Asian President?

First, the facts:

"He was born and raised in Hawaii, the only majority-Asian state in the union; he spent four formative years in Jakarta, the home of his Indonesian stepfather Lolo Soetoro, where he attended local schools and learned passable Bahasa Indonesia. The family with whom he's closest — half-sister Maya Soetoro-Ng and her Chinese Canadian husband, Konrad Ng — are Asian American. So, too, are the most senior members of his congressional team — his Senate chief of staff Pete Rouse, whose mother is Japanese American, and his legislative director Chris Lu, whose parents hail from China."

Having the common Asian-American experience:

"Evidence for Obama's affinity with the Asian American experience runs true even as one delves deeper into his history. "A lot of aspects of the senator's story will be recognizable to many Asian Americans," says Lu, a Harvard Law School classmate of the senator's who joined the team in 2005. "He talks about feeling like somewhat of an outsider; about coming to terms with his self-identity; about figuring out how to reconcile the values from his unique heritage with those of larger U.S. society. These are tensions and conflicts that play out in the lives of all children of
immigrants."

"TV, movies, the radio ... Pop culture was color-coded, after all," he writes. "I began to notice that Cosby never got the girl on 'I Spy,' that the black man on 'Mission: Impossible' spent all his time underground. I noticed that there was nobody like me in the Sears, Roebuck Christmas catalog ... and that Santa was a white man."

The emphasis on education:

"If the boy has done his work for tomorrow, he can begin on his next day's assignments. Or the assignments he will have when he returns from the holidays") and about his overprotective mother's use of guilt as leverage ("A healthy dose of guilt
never hurt anybody," she tells him, "It's what civilization was built on, guilt. A highly underrated emotion") the Asian American reader's feelings of deja vu will have slipped from amusing to uncanny."

"The senator often talks about the importance of education, the value of hard work, and the need for a sense of personal responsibility," says Chris Lu. "That resonates with a lot of Asian Americans, who feel they've pulled themselves up by their bootstraps, and understand the notion that what we accomplish in life is in large part a measure of who we are as people, and how hard we strive."

It's a stretch, I know, but an interesting intellectual exercise nonetheless.

Ernie and Emma

Myself and Emma S., daughter of my colleague Molly B.

Had a couple hours to kill as my car was getting its first service, so I visited six week old Emma. This goes out to those who believe I have an antipathy towards babies. Not so.

Delacroix, LA

At the end of Louisiana State Route 46 is the town of Delacroix, LA. It is truly the end of the world. I took an afternoon after my hot shower to drive and see what this area looked like. This trip, along with a chat with a resident of Delacroix, Tino, that I met at a local restaurant gave me a peek into what this community was/is like and is experiencing.

Delacroix is a community that relies on crabs (blue and stone) and crawfish.

This 59 year old crabber is putting on a sealant that is red (to distinguish his traps from others) and acts to keep the "sea hair" from growing on them. He was scheduled to leave the next morning at 4AM. He claimed the the Discovery Channel's Deadliest Catch series is spot on. He used to live in Delacroix but his house was destroyed by Katrina and he now lives 12 miles up the road.

Because this house is "mobile" it costs some $800 a year to insure.

This house costs some $9000 a year to insure. Because of the incredible costs to get insurance most of the new permanent homes are built by sport fisherman (people from out of the area who use the homes occasionally or rent them out) who can afford the costs of insurance and replacement if lost to a hurricane). The majority of the locals live in trailers.

The "end of the world"

New Orleans Round 2

There has been lots of progress, but some items stand as a snapshot in time.

Wading through my email while in Texas a couple weeks ago, I came across a trip being organized by One Brick to bring a group of volunteers to work with the St. Bernard Project and do work on rebuilding houses in the hard hit parish east of New Orleans.

A little background on St. Bernard Parish (SBP). We all heard and saw pictures of the Lower Ninth Ward and the devastation there. The Lower Ninth is the eastern portion of Orleans Parish. So water flooded SBP from the west. But the majority of the land of SBP and the six towns that lie along the strip of land hugging the Mississippi River all sit in one of the "feet" that sticks out into the Gulf of Mexico. So the SBP was also hit with the double whammy of the storm surge from the South and East. Every home and business (68,000 pre-Katrina residents) was declared uninhabitable. This is a community that has to start from scratch.

In chatting with the few locals I (and our group of 22 volunteers) met, three years post hurricane and flooding a sense of acceptance has set in. The stages of grief have been experienced and the event is simply a part of the history of their lives. Certainly, they are sad about it, but it feels like each day is just the next step forward. However, the common refrain from these folk is their high school graduation analogy. The day before the flood was graduation day. Their community and family members were together as one for one last time. The flood dispersed everyone. And even though people promised to return and to visit, 50% of the community didn't or hasn't returned. They are gone physically but not in spirit. At this time, 28,000 residents live in SBP.

Our group was housed at a place called Camp Hope which is a former elementary school in the town of St. Bernard that was transformed into a volunteer center. Being semi-permanent, the facilities are much more plush than the church I was scheduled to stay in last time. Internet facilities, hot showers with plenty of water (although the oil spill on the Mississippi River, this area really doesn't ever catch a break, closed the water intake in SBP and so we were limited on the last couple days) and decent food (morning biscuits were the best) made the experience enjoyable.

The 9 guys of our group stayed here in Room 3 (Courtesy of Mike L.)

Our group of 22 was split to work on three houses. My group, Team Kilz, was sent to "kilz" houses. Kilz is the name of the brand of paint that is used to seal wood after it has been scraped of mold.

Inside the houses, we sweat as the houses act as a heat oven. But those in the attic were in a virtual sauna. Coming down from the rafters and stepping into the 95 degree heat felt like stepping into a cold breeze. (Courtesy of Mike L.)

My hair at the end of the day. (Courtesy of Mike L.)

Done (Courtesy of Mike L.)

Team Kilz after knocking off a house. Note the "Jethro Tull" look I'm sporting. Remember, fashion is out the window when it's over 34 Celsius (note my use of the metric system). From Left, Charlotte, Dana, Chris, Alison, Gordon, Tamra, Jules, myself, Tom, Mike and Priscilla

We worked on Angelique Street in Violet, LA on Monday and Tuesday. Beachhead Lane also in Violet on Wednesday, Pecan Street in Chalmette on Thursday and Gardena Lane in New Orleans on Friday.

On Tuesday evening, our group (as well as all the NCCC/Americorps volunteers at Camp Hope) were treated to a Bayou dinner hosted by the Perez family, formerly of Chalmette. Paul P. and his family are a family that has relocated to a different part of the state, but come back once a month to throw a dinner to honor the volunteers who are working in SBP. Paul echoed the sentiments we heard all week about loss of community and family, but he also wanted to shard how appreciative he and the New Orleans area are of the stream of volunteers who continue to come down to work. After the federal government response left the people of the area feeling hopeless, the volunteers like us and the love and support offered has provided the people of the area the sense that they are remembered. I will admit that I was moved by the outpouring of appreciation and the need these people have to say thanks. I think for all of us who are usually on the giving side of the equation find it hard to learn to accept help and love. So when we do it, the appreciation is even more emotionally charged.

Host Paul P. wears the hat and infamous fish shirt. (Courtesy of Mike L.)

Most evenings members of our group drove into New Orleans proper to have some good food and absorb the mood. I experienced the food and music culture that New Orleans is known for. One afternoon we finished our house early and stopped by the famous "Musician's Village", which is the blocks of land purchased by Harry Connick Jr. and friends upon which Habitat has build homes. Connick feared that New Orleans would lose a generation of musicians if they didn't have places to live so he simply had them built.

These homes at the corner of Alvar and Derbigny are colorfully painted. (Courtesy of Mike L.)

Tom in red tried to corrupt this child by teaching him wheelies and then raced him down the street. (Courtesy of Mike L.)

A great week after the three weeks in Texas. The hard work felt good and I slept better than I have in a month. Good friends, who happen also to be from San Francisco, good food and a feeling that I'm doing something to help. The residents tell us not to forget them and to continue coming back to help as there is still work to do. I'm betting I will.

I am happy to report that my Dad, to save his sanity and health, has resigned as executor of my Uncle's estate and has turned it over to my cousin Henry. He'll consult but he's gone home to Seattle.

Cafe Du Monde

Cafe du Monde, open 24 hours a day in the French Quarter

3 Beignets and a Cafe au Lait for $4. I experienced this bit of consumer surplus twice.

45 Down and 5 To Go

State Number 45

The beach in Pass Christian, MS

The five states left are Alabama, Alaska, North Carolina, South Dakota and Tennessee

Indignation Level 3

Ok, on the Carlos P. Levels of Indignation, with 5 being outright moral outrage and incredulity at the audacity of someone or some organization, I am sitting here at Level 3 having had to pay $15 to check my bag in on American Airlines. Ok, they did return my bag when it got lost this past week, but they lost the bag to begin with, so I think I'm even with them karma-wise. But $15 for a service that I think is an entitlement? Am I wrong? (Wow, did I ever think I would ever act like someone who feels entitled to a service?)

I feel like I was being held up by a crook when I had no option but to check a bag since I couldn't have three carry-ons. I mean, Southwest Airlines allows at least the first bag checked free.

I don't like having to pay, but I did so anyway under GREAT mental (as in I didn't take it out on any airline employee) protest.

My time has come to a close

As I wrap up my time here in Texas, I have a few final thoughts about this unraveling (and that truly has been the operative term here) of my deceased Uncle's estate. First off, what has come to the fore is that my father and I approach this process differently than my cousin. The forefront of our motivation is that we are here to settle the estate of my Uncle. Creditors get paid off, promises kept and laws get followed to the letter. In my mind, and what has caused some tension between myself and my cousin, is that he and his half-sister are here for asset preservation. Each time I declare a check should be written (and remember I can only voice my opinion as I have no legal power to write checks in this instance) I have been reminded that I am "writing a check out of (their) pockets."

I've also been given further proof of the practice of dealing with problems and affairs as they become known. How much of the pain and work that we are dealing with here is a function of my Uncle just not addressing issues right away. Fines and judgments galore here because he simply didn't pay things (or in many cases probably didn't have the funds to pay his bills). Also, how many lawyers could one person need and deal with at the same time?

On a personal front, I have come to realize that we are really products of our fathers and parents. More often than not, how I respond to a situation is pretty much the same way my father answers. I approach things the same way he does. Cut no corners, honor your commitments and say what you mean. I have watched my Dad deal with this really, really stressful and complicated situation with great calm (ok MOST of the time, it's my Dad remember) but his management of people is something I've never actually seen in action before. I've had to rein him in on some tendencies to want to micromanage people, but overall, he's been great. I'm proud of him.

In addition, I've learned how having financial security as a child and throughout life alters the way you approach the world. It's not that money can buy me anything, but its having the ability to not have to shortchange people or to be able to pay in full right up front. The ability to do so makes life a lot easier and more pleasant.

Now that I'm finishing up service to the family, I'm going to fly to New Orleans to spend a week doing relief work in St. Bernard Parish, east of the city. I need to do some physical labor after having sat around here for the last three weeks.

Thank You to the Staff of American Eagle in.....

Fayetteville/Bentonville, AR. That's where my lost bag turned up. I got a call this past Monday from my branch of Bank of America to call a woman named Diane C. with an area code of 479. I know my area codes, but this one was a new one to even me. I called the woman and end up talking to a man there named Dave who says that the American Eagle at XNA (Northwest Arkansas) has had my unmarked bag for a couple weeks. They searched through my bag and found the teller receipt for a $500 withdrawal I had made at my local branch because I knew I was going to need some petty cash here in Texas and wasn't sure when my cash card would arrive. I put the cash and receipt inside my bag and that was the only piece of identification inside my bag.

The agents in Arkansas convinced their local Bank of America to contact my branch and have my branch call me to have me contact the agents in Arkansas. I did and Dave didn't feel comfortable with putting the cash back in the bag. He therefore was willing to take the cash and turn it into a money order and stuck it back in the bag. The bag was then expedited on the first flight out of Arkansas back to DFW where I picked it up the next morning. I am still amazed at the good in people and how this worked out. These wonderful people will be getting a huge gift sent from me when I return to San Francisco.

For those of you keeping track, this is the second time my camera has been lost and returned to me. The first time was last year in Panama, when I left my camera in the car of a couple that gave me a ride. They tracked me down because they called Continental Airlines because the couple and I had sat next to each other on the plane flight down. My camera is now on the third of its nine lives.

This is San Francisco and the Bay Area at its best

Many of you know that I am a huge devotee of Richard Florida (Juliet, if you're reading this get cracking on "Rise of the Creative Class" because this posting is exactly what he's talking about), so here is what's happening at Intel in Berkeley.

Check this link about street sweepers helping collect air quality data.

P.S. Make sure to watch the video link to see that there is a person out there who perhaps, is more expressive with their hands while talking, than I!!!

July 2008 = Texas and the Southeastern USA

Early in the morning of June 28th, 2008 (as in 12:30AM), having parked my car at friend Tony's (or marriage fame) house in Oakland, taking BART back across the Bay to SFO, rushing through the concourse and being the LAST person on the American Airlines #1441 to Dallas/Fort Worth, I handed my black roller-bag to the stewardess at the door of the plane to have it gate checked. She asks, "does anyone have a gate check tag?" No one does. She ASSURES me that the bag will make it into the baggage area below and show up in Dallas as the flight is scheduled to stop in Dallas and the plane cleared before the next flight boards.

Three and a half hours later, I stand at the baggage carousel, looking longingly at the circular metal device spinning around and around with no sign of my black bag in sight. Stupid is as stupid does.

The reason I was on this flight was that I was to attend my Uncle's funeral in Arlington, TX. Nothing out of the ordinary there. However, I was asked by my father and cousin Henry to extend my stay for another two weeks to help them unravel my Uncle's estate.

My father was named executor of the estate. His job in this case was to assemble a list of the assets and liabilities, proceed with whatever probate court issues needed to be handled, ensure the value of the estate is evenly divided between my two cousins, and be done.

EASIER SAID THAN DONE. I am not at liberty to reveal any of the details of the case but my Uncle had some unorthodox financial practices and so the three of us are basically trying to understand how to "follow the money." We really do need one of those big poster board charts you see on television shows where pictures of suspects are put on the board and lines are drawn between major characters to show relationships. In our case, substitute pictures with boxes that represent corporations, accounts and creditors.

It's been a slow slog, and I find it particularly challenging because I don't have a set path to go on. In my regular life, I set things up so I can make a list and be able to work through it systematically because I know exactly how to accomplish each and every task. In this case, I struggle to even come up with a strategy to accomplish my part of this case.

However, I have to report that these past couple days I've had some moments of success. I will report that yesterday, I managed to establish an online account with the Texas Secretary of State's Office and in a 45 minute flurry of brilliance determine, download and print out a bunch of information that will help us determine what parts of the estate will eventually need to be transferred into the trust, to eventually pay off debts and then be divided amongst my cousins. And David D., I did say "thank you."

I will report that I have told my father and cousins that I will work during the week, but that my weekends are mine. This part 4th of July weekend, I flew to Orlando to visit my friends David C. and Thom B. David and I took Saturday afternoon to get on an airboat and go look at alligators in their native swamp environment and then went to Cocoa Beach and Cape Canaveral. The rest of the time, I took advantage of their couch to nap, watch television and commune with my inner potato. This upcoming weekend, I fly to Atlanta to visit a potentially someone special.

The weekends have been fun, but I've also decided to no throw myself a pity party and to enjoy the evenings as well. This past Monday, I attended Raising Sand, which is a concert with Robert Plant and Alison Krauss. Last night, my cousin Henry and I enjoyed the Texas Rangers/Los Angeles Angels game here in Arlington. A highlight was not only that Texas beat the Angels, but we also won free tacos in the fifth inning because a Rangers player hit a home run. Thanks, Chris Davis!

So, that's been my July so far. I was fearing what I was going to do this July since the India fellowship fell through. I had to believe that it was going to reveal itself to me, and it most certainly did. I am chalking this all up to the category of "service to the family."

Dr. K. Wendell Chen (1937 - 2008)

The obituary for my uncle, from the Fort Worth Star-Telegram

ARLINGTON -- Dr. K. Wendell Chen passed away Saturday, June 21, 2008 in Arlington at the age of 70.

Funeral: 3:30 p.m. Saturday at Moore Funeral Home Chapel. Visitation: The family will receive friends from 6 to 8 p.m. at the funeral home.

Memorials: The family suggests remembrances be made in Dr. K. Wendell Chen's name to the American Red Cross China Earthquake relief Fund The American Red Cross

Dr. Chen was born in Anwhei, China and came to the U.S. in 1955 to attend the University of Washington in Seattle. After graduating from UW with a B.A. in Physics (1960), he pursued his post-graduate education at Harvard University in Cambridge, Mass. and received a PhD for Physics (1964). Dr. Chen then took a position as an Assistant Professor at Princeton University, N.J. (1964-1972), a Professor at Michigan State University (1973-1979), a Senior Scientist at Fermilab in Batavia, Ill., and a Senior Scientist a the European Center for Nuclear Research (CERN) in Switzerland (1980-81). From 1981 until his retirement, he was a professor and director of the Center for Accelerator Sciences and Technology at the University of Texas at Arlington. He served as a member of the panel in high energy physics for the National Academy of Sciences and also was a Fellow of the American Physical Society. Dr. Chen was instrumental in the consortium for the Superconducting Supercollider (SSC) Project which took place in Waxahachie, TX.

Survivors: Dr. K. Wendell Chen is survived by his son Henry R. Chen of San Francisco, and daughter, Kristina M. Chen of Los Angeles.

Opera At The Ballpark?!?!

This past Friday night, I attended my first opera. The odd thing about it was that I watched it not at the War Memorial Opera House at Civic Center. Instead, I watched it on the big screen from Section 108 in AT&T Park. Each year, the San Francisco Opera simulcasts a performance onto the screen at the ballpark and the admission is free. The general public can bring a blanket and plop right down on the field and watch an opera.

The name of the opera I saw was Lucia di Lammermoor It's the story of love being sacrificed for the "good" of the family and in the end death is rampant and no one ends up happy. I was amazed at how emotionally invested I became in the story and performance. Once the final curtain came down, I sat there catching my breath and coming back to the reality that I was actually cold in the night air at the ballpark.

I was impressed with the performances of the main characters, but was particularly impressed with the Lucia's (the Soprano playing Lucia) ability to sing with equal volume and range while laying down. On more than one occasion, Lucia was flat on her back on the floor and she sounded exactly the same as were she standing up.

Lastly, I have to thank the man who played the character of Raimondo for arranging for my special "Friends and Family" ticket. He and I met at a dinner a couple weeks back and he was able to swing these special tickets for me. This is why I was sitting in Section 108 and not out on the field.

You Feel Better If You Look Better

121-123 Cortland Avenue showing off her new paint job!

Signs That I Am Getting Old

During my week long visit to Seattle, I happened to pick a weekend that coincided with my high school graduation class' 20th year reunion. I graduated high school in 1988. It doesn't seem as if 20 years have passed, there I was. Yikes.

The more impactful event(s) that gave me a clear sign that I am advancing in years was all the discussions I had about medical problems. First off, my Mom had to have surgery on her eye because she had developed a hole in the back of her eye where the light is supposed to focus. Then, my Uncle in Texas is suffering mightily from renal failure and a multitude of other ailments. My Dad and I sat down to talk about his estate planning and then when I was out to dinner with a couple high school friends, Kristin S. and Vickie L., more than half our our conversation revolved around the medical issues facing our parents.

Marriage for All

As we all have heard, the California Supreme Court overturned the ban on gay marriage last month and so, it is now legal for any couple, regardless of their residence, to get married within the state of California. My friend Tony O. (who grew up in Seattle, was one of the kids who was in the intro of the show Boomerang and has a huge love of Frangos) got married to his partner of 10 years, Brian B. The following are photos.

The Groom, Tony, and the groom, Brian

The printout confirming their ceremony time.

Tony proudly holding and displaying his marriage license.

The wedding party

City Hall is full of San Francisco history and being the politico, I had to include the following pictures. They speak volumes in their silent and regal manner.

So some final words on gay marriage. In the end, I think gay marriage will spread throughout the entire nation because it will become an Economic issue for states that do not allow gay marriage. Gays will vote with their feet and move to places such as Massachusetts, Vermont and California. States will soon realize that they need to institute inclusive laws simply to retain the talented gay men and women that already reside in those states. As usual, it comes down to Economics, baby!

Obama Has His Work Cut Out (Part II)

A couple weeks ago, I wrote about the interaction I had with my female barber who is a native of the Philippines. Remember how she was a huge Hillary Clinton supporter and for the general election wouldn't go out and vote for John McCain, but instead just refuse to vote because a) disappointment/anger at the fact that Clinton didn't win the Democratic nomination and b) that Obama won't name Clinton as his vice-presidential candidate.

However, this past week, I had another encounter that blew my mind even more. It was the Monday after Father's Day. The US Open had gone to an 18-hole playoff between Tiger Woods and Rocco Mediate. That day, Dad and I played a round of golf in the morning and were sitting on the clubhouse patio at 1PM. I was sitting across from one of Dad's friends when he stated, "Tiger can win but no way Obama should win." Those in the know, I will identify the man who made this statement as a heavy smoker. :)

Once he said that, I basically, in Mandarin Chinese, asked him to explain the reasoning and why he made the statement that he did. I was in no way deferential to my elders, especially one of my Dad's friends. The table of 12-15 fellow golfers and friends of my father fell dead silent. The guy blustered for a couple seconds and then in English exclaimed, "No politics." At this point, the mother of a good friend of mine asked me to explain why I supported Obama. In my stilted Chinese, I explained as best as I could, talked about how he lived a similar life as I did. Obama and I both went to elite independent secondary schools that were dominated by wealthy Caucasians. I always felt as if I was on the outside looking in. I never felt included even though I was there at the school. I know that I've always felt as though I had to achieve at a higher level just to be on par with the majority of my classmates.

At this point, I realized I should hold my tongue and keep quiet the rest of the lunch. When Dad and I got in the car, I asked him whether or not the opinion stated by the one man was a majority opinion. Immediately, Dad shook his head no. But then he promptly stated that Chinese are racist against African-Americans. The Chinese put the Caucasian race at the top of the food chain and the African-Americans at the bottom. He then made the argument to the effect of "What has Obama done?" and "What is really meant by CHANGE?" He also drew a parallel between this upcoming election and the Kennedy election of 1960, in which Kennedy overcame the stigma of being a Catholic. I then came back with the argument that Kennedy was an intellectual who surrounded himself by those who were the best and brightest. I believe Obama would as well.

At this point, we came to a impass and left it at that. Yikes, Obama really has his work cut out for him to convince voters like my Dad's 60's and 70's year old Asian friends to vote for him.

Room 413

The school has undertaken a huge, multi-stage, upgrade of its facilities. The centerpiece is a new Upper School building. For those of you who haven't been on campus in a while, it looks a lot different.

The new entrance from Lincoln Avenue includes locked gates and a receptionist to greet visitors in the tower on the left

At the top of the Steps of Knowledge (honestly, that's what they are called), one has a view of the new Upper School directly ahead, the world languages building on the right and the new Read Library (were the language patio used to be).

The front of the new Upper School building. On the first floor, the rooms nearest camera is the Upper School Office. A full service cafeteria can be found further down.

Headmaster Paul C. (his back to us) describing the features of the new cafeteria to faculty members.

The northwest corner of the new Upper School building. My new classroom is the corner room of the 2nd floor.

Room 413

The west facing view from Room 413

The 2nd floor hallway. The five classrooms on the right are assigned to Chen, Akiyama, Reinke, Barankin and Scott. On the left, biology rooms assigned to Brakeman and Vann.

The gap between the new US building and the old MS building which will also be apart of the Upper School.

Obama Has Some Work To Do

I am winding down to the end of the school year. The second to last event (the last being a final faculty meeting) of the end of the year is graduation. To be presentable, I went down to get a haircut from the Filipino woman who I have adopted as my barber. I sat down in the chair in front of CNN, which was blaring news about the end of the Clinton/Obama primary contest.

I, up until this conversation, felt that Obama has the election in November all wrapped up. With the anti-Republican mood throughout the country, winning the Democratic party nomination was the larger obstacle. Assuming he makes no gaffes in the next five months, Obama was going to be our new leader.

However, my barber asked me about my thoughts about Obama and Clinton. Then she started telling me about how important it was for Obama to name Clinton as the vice president. In her opinion, and the people that she knows, Clinton is a name brand, one that carries knowledge and weight throughout the world. To her credit, my barber claimed her disgust with Bush.

I then asked whether it would sufficient for Obama to name another woman to run with him on the ticket. She came back with claims that her relatives in the Philippines are rooting for Clinton and have no idea who Obama is. Because of that she stated emphatically that if Obama didn't name Clinton to become his vice-presidential candidate, she wouldn't go and vote for McCain, but that he just wouldn't vote.

That statement blew my mind. But what it did make me realize is that Obama's great rhetoric and soaring words are probably not accessible to a great portion of the electorate. In addition, I believe that over the course of the next five months, Obama has to work to really introduce himself to that part of the population which doesn't know who he is yet because they have had their hopes pinned on another candidate. It will be tough to win over those who are reluctant to hear his words.

Where do I stand on all this? I initially was a Clinton supporter. Mostly it was because I think it's more important for people to see that a woman can be in a position of power and how different ways of working and issues would be rewarded and emphasized if we had a woman president. However, when the whole issue of the gas tax holiday was discussed, the fact that Clinton supported it and Obama took the time to explain why it was a bad idea, I switched allegiances. Obama was willing to treat us with some respect and be willing to chance that he could speak about policy with some complexity and that the American public would take the time and effort to listen to what he had to say. Boy, do we need more of that in this country.

FlashlightWorthy

Hey all, it's June and the school year is almost over. I've got a couple irons in the fire for summer plans, but I won't talk about them until they are finalized and confirmed. We don't want another India disappointment. I finished classroom teaching this past Friday, hung out with Marlene a bit as she was in town for the weekend, attended a retirement party for the legendary, raunchy joke telling, Australian Head of Maintenance at the school. Every year, we have a party for someone who heads into the next phase of their lives. I love the fact that each and every year we celebrate the career of someone who has been such an inspirational and loyal member of the school. It's truly a testament to both the kind of profession that teaching is and the quality of the school that is HRS.

Lastly, I want to promote my friend Peter's new endeavor. If you buy books online, go through his website. You can read about how it works there. However, the other thing that is great about it, is that if you need suggestions for the best books on a certain topic, most like the list of some expert's top 5 books in that field are there. It's all in one place. Check it out at:

Flashlight Worthy Books

Bummer

In my email box this afternoon:

I regret to inform you that you have not been selected for participation in the India Summer Teacher?s Program . Although you were recommended for an award based on your impressive professional credentials, you were not among the final group of applicants selected for inclusion in the 2008 program.

WASC

What is WASC? WASC stands for Western Association of Schools and Colleges and is one of the six accrediting organizations that give the "stamp of approval" to public and private schools, colleges and Universities.

I will take a quote from the WASC website to describe what the organization does:

"The greatest value of the WASC protocol is that it ensures equity and fairness to all students in all schools. Parents, teachers, staff members and students participate in a process that enables them to critically self examine their school plan, set their own goals and assess if their goals are reached for continuous improvement."

This past week, I volunteered to serve on a visiting committee. Usually a visiting committee consists of six members, but since the school I was visiting was small, our committee was three. The other two members of my committee were a former superintendent of a district south of San Jose and a current superintendent of a district on the Peninsula south of San Francisco.

Each school is required to produce a self-study that examines all aspects of the school. Being a teacher, my instinct is to limit the study to the curriculum. However, WASC wants all aspects of the school to be studied. This involves things like the financial pictures, the physical plant to even parent relations. Every aspect of a school is up for examination.

The committee's visit is to verify the school's self study and to provide a critical eye to see where things match the school's self study and where it doesn't. The committee meets with all the constituencies and visits classes and observes as much as can been seen in a short three day visit.

At the end of the first two days, Monday and Tuesday, the three of us sat down to report on our days and were given assignments to write up our observations.

The visiting committee's big task is to produce a report that is presented to the major stakeholders (that's a new word that has become part of my vocabulary as it is used throughout the WASC guidelines and instructions) at the end of the third day. This report, ours turned out to be 18 pages (typical), provides the school the observations we made and then in certain areas, provides commendations and recommendations.

The three of us, took the majority of the third day to write the report. We holed ourselves in my hotel room and cranked out the report. I don't think I've been under that much stress to get something done in years. I have to thank both my fellow committee members for keeping it together at the end. I was getting pretty snippy there.

The other huge task each committee must accomplish is to provide the WASC commission on the committee's opinion as to whether a school should be given a 6 year accreditation (meaning the school gets to go six years before going through the process again), a 6/3 (six years but must have a progress report and visit at the 3 year mark), a 3 year, 2 year, 1 year accreditation or deny the institution accreditation.

I will say that for my first experience serving as a visiting committee member, I went in with an open mind and really learned so much about what makes a school good and what things need to be in place for a school to be great. I saw just how complex a school community can be and how challenging it is to keep all the balls in the air while also trying to improve the school and meet the recommendations WASC requires you to do before the next accreditation.

The three day visit was informative and a ton of work. I think I am finally unwound from the committee work now that I'm three days removed from it. I will certainly serve WASC again, but I might want to do it every other year. Who knows.

Should I Be Nominated For The Darwin Award?

My optometrist and her assistants chuckle every time they answer the voice and recognize that my voice is on the other end. I am notorious for losing/crushing/breaking my contact lenses. I wear gas permeable (closer to hard than soft) lenses and have since I first got contacts back in the 8th grade. I like them because they are low maintenance in most every respect. However, the tradeoff is that they aren't inexpensive. One lens runs me $85 out of pocket after the two lenses I get each year as part of my insurance package.

Usually, I have to replace a contact because of general carelessness and in a moment of lapsed attention, a contact misses my eyeball and falls into the sink and then gets taken down the drain by the running tap. I've also crushed a lens into bits when trying to get it off the top lid of the case when it has flipped over and sealed itself rim-side onto the plastic case itself.

So, when I called this past week, I know I was going to be the subject of ridicule for having to order this latest contact lens. I had to call this past Saturday after having picked up a new lens the afternoon before. When I got home on Friday evening, I grabbed all my items from the car and walked into my front office. A couple hours later, I was sorting through my papers and books and didn't find my contact lens which was in a contact case. I scoured my office carefully. I went back out the car, no lens. I cased the street between the car and my home. No sign of the contact. Yes, I LOST A CONTACT LENS BEFORE I EVEN MADE IT HOME. So, this afternoon, a week after the infamous "contact lost within 5 hours of purchase", I will have to endure the ridicule from the members of the office of my optometrist. I bet she herself will start in on me as well.

The Magic of Google (India Style)

Back during my February Presidents Week break from school, I sat down and began thinking about what I wanted to do during the summer. It's a great perk, summer break, that is, for a teacher, but I sometimes feel it to be a burden to plan something each and every summer. Having done something amazing and life affirming one summer makes me feel that I have to equal that or top it each subsequent summer. I know all you non-teacher readers are throwing tomatoes at your screen, but these are my feelings and I'm allowed to have them! (See what therapy can do?)

I thought about how great it would to be to actually do some teaching for six weeks. Hmm, let's go abroad. Well I went to China last year, and I really like Indian food, so let's go to India. And maybe it could be an exchange gig. So, I sat down at my computer and typed in "Summer 2008 Math Teacher Exchange India" and the first link that came up was a six week summer teaching program for US High School Math teachers in New Delhi, India under the auspices of the Fulbright program in the US State Department. The program would take six teachers (2 English, 2 Science and 2 Math). I could not have dreamed of something so perfect.

I downloaded the application, wrote and essay, of which half was a photo essay with commentary from my China trip last summer, and secured a couple of letters of recommendation from colleagues (shout out to Chris D. and SSK for their quick turnaround) and sent the package off to Washington, DC.

After a month, I was contacted to state that I had made it to the interview round. I spent fifteen minutes on a phone interview, which I felt I could have done much better on. I was nervous, which means I talked in circles not really honing in on the point I'm trying to make.

Then today, I got this email:

You are among the group of applicants selected as the finalists for the India Summer Teacher Program.

We are currently in the process of matching U.S. candidates with schools in India. We will notify you by early May if you have been awarded the grant.

Although you have been deemed eligible for program participation on the basis of your application, supporting documents, as well as your interview results, there is no guarantee that you will be selected for the exchange.

So this doesn't mean that I'm for sure going, but I've gotten to this stage where the schools in India select the teachers that they want. Upon further discussion with the woman who interviewed me, each of the six teachers would work with a teacher in their discipline at a school in New Delhi. The purpose of the exchange is to share teaching philosophies, strategies and ideas between the two countries. If selected, I would be representing the United States and would travel under a State Department visa.

So, I'm totally psyched to have made it this far in the process. I'm re-reading my application and wondering what was in it that made it stand out. I won't question it, but I'll ask that everyone keep their fingers crossed! I'll let you know how it all turns out in a couple weeks.

My Watermelon Sprung a Leak

I got up this morning and stepped into some sticky liquid on my kitchen floor. Nobody was living in the house with me so it couldn't have been a spill. Nothing was leaking from the refrigerator, and nothing came from the ceiling. After a baffling couple seconds, I scanned the kitchen and saw that the butcher block as also wet and that the liquid was coming from within the watermelon that I had purchased a few days earlier but had yet to cut. I tried to pick up the watermelon to move it and it caved in on itself and and that let to a stream of liquid shooting out of a hole in the watermelon. I promptly found a bowl(the one in the picture above) large enough to stick it in and threw some towels on the floor and left for work.

Now not only do I not have watermelon, but I've got to mop the sticky kitchen floor. Has this sort of thing ever happened to anyone else? Spontaneous combustion of large melon?

I totally got suckered by this one

April Fools Day, 2008 -- I'm a sucker and always get nailed by people playing pranks. But this one tops them all. It was done so well, so, hit the link and laugh at me as you listen to it!

Acting

So, this acting thing is much harder than it looks. The students auditioned for parts in late January and began rehearsals in earnest at the beginning of February. I was given a copy of my lines said by my character, the bigoted Baptist Minister, during the second week of February. Not having actually seen the movie nor having attended rehearsals, I was trying to memorize my without having any context for the words.

I was really having a difficult time memorizing the lines for the two scenes in which the character is featured. 157 words in three different speaking moments in the first scene and 225 words in the second scene. When I, and the other four faculty members who were in the play, began attending and participating in rehearsals, I was still working off my script, whereas the other faculty members had learned their lines and the students had done so too.

Therefore, starting the Monday two weeks before the shows opening, my scene partner in the second scene is allowed to come up to me at anytime she sees me, give me one of her lines and I have to say my subsequent line. If I am unable to do so I owe her $5. I instituted this draconian measure because I needed an incentive to get myself over the hump to learn my lines. That week, Patricia L. earned herself $30. More frighteningly, and importantly, I would get this stare from her, a stare of disappointment, that I hadn't learned my lines yet. At this point, I just thought this stare was one of "scolding" and disappointment that I hadn't done the most fundamental job of acting. On more than one occasion, she would take my money and say with ever more firmness, "Mr. Chen, you need to learn your lines!" It's amazing how easily a high school senior girl can take on the role of the authority figure and use it to make the one having some words being spoken to them, feel so guilty.

Starting the Sunday before opening night, we began running run through rehearsals. I was still just making it through my lines, kind of stumbling through them. Luckily for me, the character speaks in a halting, stilted and self-editing kind of way, which made it easier to hide my momentary searches of my memory for the next line I was to speak. Around me, I saw the other actors saying their lines with flow and inflections. In retrospect, being the beginning actor that I am, I was at the point they all were a month earlier. I began to see that my just "dropping in" at the end, and just doing the minimum amount of rehearsal (very rock star behavior and treatment) was ok for the other four faculty, all of whom had theater experience. But for me, I was trying to cram so much learning, practicing and mastery into too short a time.

As the show began to take its final form, I realized the meaning behind Patricia's stare when I didn't know my line. I saw how important the quality of this play was to them, and that they really took their efforts and performances seriously. My not taking the time and effort to learn my lines was in a way not pulling my weight. It must have seemed that I was just "blowing it off" and that the play wasn't an important event in my life. The power of the story and the seriousness that these students brought to it changed my mind immediately.

The show played four nights. Each night the audience increased in size. The first two nights, went ok for me. I got through my early lines without much difficulty. I made an error the second night in the middle of my sermon, however the lines of the first scene didn't cause me much difficulty. I stood in one space and I spoke to the audience, I didn't have to interact with another character.

The second scene is the one in which I had to enter onto the stage, stop, begin a conversation with Patricia's character, amble in front of her and then react to something she says. Then after a quick interchange, I have three long (not long to the other actors but long to me) multi-sentence lines. Then I turn around and exit opposite where I entered. Oh, I have to make sure that I stand in the light too. Those of you who know me, can already see the brain meltdown I had at having to keep track of so many things to do within a two minutes scene. This second scene went off without a hitch both the first two nights, but each night, Patricia would point out to me places in my delivery where I emphasized the wrong word and the overall effect wasn't as powerful as I could/should have been.

On night three, during the middle of the first of three long lines, my mind went blank. I looked at Patricia and I saw the stare. I fumbled around for a couple seconds and then decided to stop and think, as much in character as possible. At this point, I see the stage manager stand up and start whatever she has to do in a situation where a cue needs to be given. I just start saying words, get through the second of the three long lines by stringing together words that if you listen closely, made absolutely NO sense. I got to the third line, nailed it and walked off stage. I felt horrible. I was pissed at myself. After the show, I asked Patricia to deliver my ass kicking the next day. She agreed.

The day of the closing performance, Patricia made me say my lines to her at least four times. I was still having some difficulty but was getting through them. She said that I shouldn't just be working on getting through them on the night of the final show, that's what I should have been doing weeks prior. I am proud to say that the second scene of the final night of the performance was as good as I could do it. I was comfortable enough with the words to even work on providing emphasis in the right places and even a little finger wagging. After the performance, Patricia gave me a high five and told me, "that was acting!"

So, nailing that last scene was more than anything else, proving to myself that I could do it. But the overall experience was chock full of learning about the world of theater and that it is much harder to do well, than meets the eye. I have a newfound respect for these student actors and the amount of work and emotional investment they put into these shows. But the best thing that happened was that I was in the role of "student." The students were giving me help on what to do, they were the ones giving me a pat on the back when i did something right or advice when I didn't as well as I should have.

Would I do it again? For sure. But I would approach it with much more seriousness and respect for the craft of acting and the world of theater.

Take It To The Bank

The electoral college results come November 2008!

Supreme Court Justice Clarence Thomas Writes A Majority Opinion and I AGREE

Yes, you read that right. Being a politico that I am, I follow both the politics of my state of residency, California and the politics of the state of my birth, childhood and formative years, Washington State. Why do Clarence Thomas and I agree? It's that he wrote an opinion that overturns a 9th Circuit Court of Appeals ruling that made illegal Washington State's 70+ year method of holding primaries. Until 1996, Washington State residents went to the poll on primary day and were not required to state party affiliation. Everyone was given the same ballot with the same list of names and were told to vote on their preferred candidate. If you were a Republican but liked a Democrat, you voted for that candidate. At the end of primary day, the top two vote getters, regardless of party affiliation would make runoff head-to-head on election day. Yes, this meant two Democrats or Republicans or Green Party members for that matter, could meet on election day. You can read a more detailed analysis of why the two major parties in the state of Washington oppose this system. The victorious plaintiff in this case? The Washington State Grange!

The Big Red are going Dancing

Yes, it's true, the Cornell Big Red Men's Basketball team clinched the Ivy League title last night with an 85-53 win over Harvard. Read the article in The Ithaca Journal. In 1988, when I was a senior in high school, only Princeton and the University of Pennsylvania have won the Ivy League title (Yale tied Princeton in 2001-02) and therefore been the only representatives to the NCAA Tournament, aka "The Big Dance", aka "March Madness." In 1988, Cornell was the #16 seed and played #1 Arizona and lost big. This year, the sports pundits have Cornell as a #13 seed as they have amassed an impressive 20-5 record with two losses coming against perennial powerhouses Syracuse and Duke. Cornell has currently gone undefeated in league play and is 12-0 with two more games to play next weekend. Cornell, because the Ivy League doesn't run a conference tournament and sends the league champion, is the first team to officially punch it's ticket to the dance.

When the tournament begins in a few weeks, I will be rooting for my alma mater far above Cayuga's waters. However, I won't be making any bets that they will make it into the second round. Go RED!

The Laramie Project

The students of HRS will be performing The Laramie Project as their spring 2007 play. The drama teacher put out a call for adults in the community to take on roles. Since I've never been on stage for a dramatic performance, I decided it was time to challenge myself and volunteered to be in the show. For those of you who have seen or read The Laramie Project, I have been given the role of the Baptist Minister. I play a close-minded homophobic religious leader. I think I am playing out of character, you think?

I've attended one rehearsal (oh boy do I have to bear down and start learning my lines!!!) and a lucky that in one scene I stand in one place and am spotlighted. In my second scene, I simply walk on stage, turn to face another character, have a conversation, which is essentially a monologue, then turn and walk off stage. I think I can handle it.

So if you happen to be in the Bay Area and want to see what will be a great show. Performances are at the school on Friday 3/21/08, Saturday 3/22/08, Thursday 3/27/08 and Friday 3/28/08. All performances start at 8PM

The Car Buying Experience Part II

A couple days after the overbearing car dealership experience, Mom and I tackled the whole endeavor of purchasing an automobile again. Between the two days, I did some further research and determined that a subcompact was too small for my needs. If I want to throw my bike in the back it would certainly have been a tight fit in something like the Versa. In addition, I realized that I wanted a hatchback and not a sedan. I had heard these terms used throughout my life, but only now did I actually have to differentiate between the two and decide which I wanted. Thus, the Elantra was removed from contention.

By process of elimination, the Prius was the only remaining candidate from my final three. I had been leaning towards the Prius from the start, as shown by the fact I test drove it first in Fremont, but I am loathe to buy the first thing I see and like. Granted, on the Meyers-Briggs I score as a extreme "J", meaning I make quick judgments and rarely go back and reflect on the validity of that judgment (oh my god, I'm President George Bush!) or express remorse at having to make the decision to begin with.

I began noticing another car on the road, the Toyota Matrix. It looked like a smaller version of the Subaru Outback. It would certainly be a complementary replacement for the Subaru. Upon doing research online, it turned out to be the only Toyota model that did not rate the highest marks for safety testing. It would also cost about $4,000 less.

With these developments, Mom and I visited the Daly City Toyota dealership. The plan was to test drive a Matrix. My biggest concern was "did the car feel light." The salesman we got was tenfold better than the salesman from Fremont. He answered our questions and although pushy as he needed to be since it's the nature of his job, he didn't feel overbearing. And since we spoke Chinese, he was obviously more comfortable explaining the technical details in Chinese. Then Mom would translate the things I didn't understand to me. The Matrix drove fine. In fact there were only a couple minor things that I didn't like, but nothing that would knock the Prius off of its top placement.

Our salesman again let test drive a Prius to be able to compare the two cars within minutes of driving each. This time I got to take the Prius onto the freeway. Upon return, I made the decision to go with the Prius. I know that down the road were I to purchase the Matrix, I would always regret not purchasing the Prius. The converse would never happen. So the Prius it was

However, the story doesn't end here. Remember I had these internet bids from different dealerships in hand. I had an offer from a different dealership for the price of a Prius with floor mats as the only add-on. I wanted the most basic, stripped down Prius out there. Our salesman was hit with a double whammy. First, Mom and I learned that the Internet sales divisions are completely separate from the store sales staff. I should have been working with a member internet sales staff. Because of this, his work with me was essentially charity. Were I to purchase a car, the credit would go to the guy who sent me the email price quote. The second shocker was that he had never seen a Prius that had basically no package add-ons. If his dealership had them, he didn't know about them. Therefore he took Mom and I to look at each and every Prius in their inventory and alas, we found none. We felt bad for wasting this salesman's time. I am planning on writing a letter to his supervisor thanking him for his time and effort.

The next stop was the San Bruno Toyota dealership. I had a quote from them for the no frills Prius at what looked to be a "too good to be true" price. Having learned our lesson about internet sales divisions, Mom and I found the guy who sent me the price quote. These was only one Prius left at that price and the color was red. How much more perfect could that have been.

Two and a half hours later, I had signed my name at least 30 times. I pre-purchased 4 years of maintenance and extended the warranty on the car from 3 to 7 years. I had to call and reinstate my insurance with GEICO and here is a picture of the car that I will hopefully be driving for the next decade.