Something Ain’t Right

Something doesn’t feel right. That’s the emotion you get sometimes. 
Maybe it’s when the tires finally reach your driveway and the faces are not looking at you from the windows. Other times is when your eyes open after a deep sleep and the usual weight at the foot of the bed is now missing. A dull dread creeps in and soon you find yourself searching, pacing, and calling out names. Nerves fray further with each passing minute. Imagination takes over and you run through countless scenarios and outcomes each worse than the last. 
Then you may discover something…the swaying side gate, the unlatched door at the cage or a dug-out hole at the far southern part of the fence. 
That’s when the real concern kicks on and guilt mixes with fright and you wonder if your family will be whole ever again.

Future Obituary – Pledge of Allegiance

Hugo Torres officially became a United State Citizen on June 22, 2016 at the Pasadena Civic Auditorium. 
Mr. Torres became an American many years earlier at/about the age of 10 in Mrs. Ross Fourth Grade classroom at Malabar Elementary school. After having spent many months learning English as a second language a young Hugo Torres was handed a small sheet of paper with words first drafted in 1892 by Francis Bellamy. He was told that he would join the rest of the class the next day as they would raise their hands to their hearts in unison and expressed allegiance. Hugo took the sheet home, told his parents and then spent hours on his bed practicing, and practicing and practicing. In the course of that afternoon he had looked up many of the words that then he thought too obscure. Once he understood their weight and realized the responsibility they required he knew he was ready. The next morning, once the class settled down and Mrs. Ross asked the group to rise at attention, young Hugo Torres pledged “allegiance to the flag of the United State of America, and to the Republic for which it stands, one Nation under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all.” Young Hugo caught Mrs. Ross smiling at him as she asked everyone to sit. 
Mr. Torres was an American in his heart from that morning until his passing last Tuesday afternoon. 
Source: Mr. Torres’ Future Obituary.

My dad never

My dad never taught me how to fish but he showed me that grown men do cry. My dad couldn’t instruct me on how to drive but he drove me to the driving school. My father didn’t teach me English but I learned from him that words on paper can be powerful. My father didn’t have a lot of time for me after work but I saw in him the ability to will himself into performing one more shift. My old man was too tired for basketball but he made enough so I’d have shoes and a ball. 
There are so many things Silvio didn’t, couldn’t, was unable to do when it came to me and I resented some of those at the time. Now near 40 and with kids of my own I’ve come to see the flip side of those things.

The Quiet One

A young family sat at a nearby booth at the restaurant in Pasadena where they sell brews by the Yard. 
One of the adults was highly animated and spoke with a booming voice and waved his hands wildly to make the point. The kids were rambunctious as kids can be but their sounds blended well with the cacophony composed by clanking silverware, the yell of the crowd cheering or booing the soccer match on TV, or the roaring laughter of a ladies group nearby. The family’s matriarch was a bit demure but it was clear the beers she’d previously enjoyed were now taking effect and she was now getting in on the fun. 
Then I spotted their most quiet of friend sitting calmly next to the dad. He, in his little vest, was an island of silent composure in the chaos. He just sat there and looked around. Not paying attention to the food, or the dropped silverware that even startled me. His equanimity infected me and I could not help but stare at him and his Mona Lisa smile. His pink socks gave me an internal chuckle as they contrasted cheerily against his deep black complexion. When the family got up to go my trance finally broke and that’s when my daughter noticed him. She too noticed his vest and asked me why he couldn’t be petted. I told her that this fury friend was on the job and helping the man who held his tether. 
Then they walked off and for a moment his eyes and I connected but then he got back in line. I think I spotted pride and I salute him for it.  

Class of 2017

It’s been going on for at least a couple of weeks. 
Special days that once seemed so far off finally come to pass. For so many of you, I’ve cherished seeing the great many photos of the graduating class of 2017. From elementary school to college there are so many smiling talented young people who have reached a goal line. Along with them is a throng of proud parents and caregivers who with tears in their eyes got to witness the manifestation of so much hard work and sacrifice. If the group of people in the caps and gowns are the future then I am hopeful of what things may come. 
Congrats to all the 2017 grads!

Wonder Daughter

My date arrived at about 7 minutes before 11. Twenty minutes or so later the action started on the screen and the princess she had been waiting to see emerged into the picture. For the next couple of hours I saw her mouth wide open as the heroine made tough choices. She giggled at how naive she was as a young woman in the world. She fidgeted in her seat when it seemed that there might be a kiss on the screen. She tugged at my watch when the going got tough for Diana and it wasn’t certain that she’d win the day. 
When it was all done and over and we were making our way out of our Krikorian she proudly looked at me in the eye and told me that “I want to be her.” I smiled and told her that in so many ways, she already is.

Lost Connection

At about 18.6 miles past the teeny-tiny town of Springville, CA I lost cellular connection and was cut off from the world (electronically) for four days. My heart didn’t sink but my grey-matter registered the moment. Into the Redwoods we went. 
On Monday the 29th of May at about 16.4 miles from good ole Sprinville my phone came back to life and with it a myriad of familiar pings, dings and screeches. My grey-matter registered the moment and my heart sunk quite a lot.

Digital Parent

While sitting here at the Real Estate office this morning I found myself going about the usual routine. I had my coffee by my side, the Monrovia Weekly had been read, I had already traded pleasantries with the agents in the office and the computer was on so I could get to work. As usual I started with email and I found that most was inconsequential…then one caught my eye. It’s uniqueness was glaring. My son had emailed me and now I was staring at this note on the screen where he asked for some homework help. I’m transfixed by the account-avatar he chose (his current favorite animal) and how much punch his one sentence digital note is making on my analog heart. 
He’s starting to live in a brave new world. I better be a good guide!

What will I miss

The retirement strategist shared with all the small business owners this morning some helpful data about days-sans-work and planning for them. 
He lost me for a moment I’ll admit. 
When he mentioned the statistical gap that says that it is likely that I will die several years before my partner does my mind began to wonder of what I’ll miss. One day her hands will turn really wrinkly and I may not get to massage them. Will it turn out that like my father I’ll miss hearing the coos of my first grandchild? It’ll be a shame not to unleash my inner curmudgeon at the Thanksgiving table and then take a nap right after. Then one day it could be that I’ll be just a picture on the wall and some people may tell tall fond tales of the handsome young guy I used to be. 
I snapped back to real time just as the presentation ended. I’m thinking about this stuff a lot late. Could it be it’s because my 30s are coming to an end this year?

Mom and Snoopy

They didn’t sell him in stores. I loved Snoopy though and my mom had skills. She bought some black and white fabric and in the evenings after supper she cut, she sewed and stitch by stitch made me a beagle of my own. It didn’t quite match the Schulz version because one ear was too long. I didn’t have the heart to tell her and I think she may have known. Thanks Mom!