Teddy Bloggie Blog Blogging

I've been getting calls for the past two weeks from a "L--ing Office, part of CIT". All at about 8am. Naturally, this is too early for me to pick up the phone so all I get are hissing messages left on my machine; day after day. At first, I thought it was just some cold calling for financial services or something close to that. It didn't even occur to me that they were looking for me as opposed to my roommates until I heard what sounded like my name being said on the message left by a Brenda yesterday. So I finally scribbled down the number and the account they uttered on the back of an envelope nearby so that I can play detective and figure out what's really happening.

Old, white philosophers once debated man's state of nature. Were people born good or evil? They really spent decades on this, before the discovery of electromagnetism which eventually led to SportsCenter.

Let me tell you something - the state of nature doesn't exist as a singularity. It's not even good or bad as Rousseau and Locke argued. God spins a roulette wheel when you're born. His isn't black and red. It's got shades of everything between yellow and blue with some left in white, and whichever square that ball landed on, it's your state of nature. He's not dumb. Like the old adage, variety is the spice of life, - er, supreme being. Here's how they break down:

red - You're angry. Yeah, yeah... they're out to get you. No one cares but you. You're adamant. People are fucking with you. You've got to fight back.

yellow - You fear everything. You seem self-assured and confident because you don't care what happens. You're the fearless imposter. You're actually scared of everything. So who you meet, what happens doesn't matter to you - you'll be scared of it anyway. Sometimes you don't notice you're scared, but then you do something that reminds you of your state of nature.

I can't believe my taxes make this possible...

DEA Raids Medical Marijuana Growers
Martha Mendoza, Associated Press National Writer

Federal agents raided a marijuana farm Thursday and arrested the owners, who grow the pot for a medical users club, surprising community members and local law enforcement.
-snip-
The Corrals helped write the provision in California's Proposition 215 which allows patients and their caregivers to cultivate their own medicine. Their farm has been featured in national media and they work with local authorities to grow and distribute their pot to people with doctors' recommendations to use marijuana.
-snip-
The raid was a surprise to local medical marijuana growers and advocates, as well as the Santa Cruz County sheriff and even DEA officials in the agency's closest office, in San Jose.
-snip-

For the DEA to bypass local law enforcement and arrest people for what is legal under California law is outrageous. There's a huge problem when the federal government has to go behind local law enforcement's back to carry out arrests. They've got the guns, but we've got the numbers. I've always been in favor of legalization of marijuana for medical use. I've spoken to local doctors who say they would prescribe it if it were available because nothing works as well, it's cheap, and there's even a study that says THC has anti-cancer properties - that report funded by the NIH was shelved by the U.S. government and the DEA when it became apparent the rats treated with THC were healthier than the control group (not smoked but injested I believe... smoke is bad for you no matter what). Scientists working in Madrid found THC cannabinoids had anti-tumor effects and published their findings in the March 2000 issue of Nature. Why haven't you heard of that before? Why haven't you indeed...

Here's a great link: War on Drugs Clock $27billion and counting...

Just for comparison sake, in 1998 the United Nations Development Programme estimated that the additional cost of achieving and maintaining universal access to basic education for all, basic health care for all, reproductive health care for all women, adequate food for all, and clean water and safe sewers for all is roughly $40 billion a year--or less than 4% of the combined wealth of the 225 richest people in the world. Or about the same cost as our annual drug war. Think about that.

Characters for harmony and equilibrium which together stand for peace. "When there is equilibrium among humans, then nature and the heavens are balanced, and peace prevails."

Today, I was thinking about how this weblog probably wouldn't exist if I were living in China. There, I would be afraid to question the views of the state. You can do it if you want to (so long as you don't discuss Taiwan independence or the Falun Gong), but people generally don't because they remember what happened in the 60's during the cultural revolution, when anyone with rightist views were persecuted, sometimes jailed, sometimes killed. McCarthyism times 100. My father's uncle who lived with us during my childhood was labeled a rightist for spouting ideas different from Maoist socialist ideology and was jailed for many years. He never really recovered from that experience, always loafing around the streets after his release, unable to hold a job and burdened by his reluctant silence. No, I'm glad I'm writing this weblog in this country because I know my right to speak my mind is the very essence of our democratic government and only by exercising free speech can it be sustained. It doesn't matter if I agree with Bush or if I hold the popular opinion because dissent is expected, not frowned upon.

Sometimes I wish I focused more of my attention on happier events, stuff that doesn't tempt me to be critical or cynical; alas, I seem drawn to publicizing the threats around me. Well, today I want to point out the threat to academic freedom. This one is from the Hoover Institue of Stanford. Sometimes, even the farm across the way comes up with a great critque of popular rhetoric.

The Crisis Role of the University by John H. Bunzel

Why, one wonders, are various conservatives and other voices of the political right seemingly driven to drawing up enemy lines?

There's no better word for how my life feels right now than "floundering", a term I've borrowed from my friend Vickie, who used it to describe her sister's situation. I guess it means I'm not a full-time student, nor a full-time employee, nor a full-time care giver as a stay-at-home mom would be. I'm barely clinging on to college life; still picking up the DailyCal (but not daily), still roaming around campus, maybe twice a week, and I'm looking forward to going to a football game this Saturday.

I'm also not yet employed full-time, although I've hurdled through the hoops of resume workshops, job interviews, offers, and rejections. So, in this moment of my life, "floundering" is an appropriate description. But don't cry for me or anything. The word "floundering" has taken on a very positive meaning for me. I'm not constrained by the future like I was as a student. Being a student is tough. You always have to think ahead and carry the stresses of having to complete assignments, prepare papers, and take tests, with you. Learning is fun though, I admit, and I miss that aspect of being in classrooms. I've never really held a 9-5 job for more than a few weeks as a temp, so I'm not one to comment on those. I'm sure people get used to wearing the 9-5 job as an employee as students get used to their backpacks, but for now I've chosen to wear nothing - nothing at all. Well, actually... that's not exactly accurate. I've just completed a GRE course and I've been asked to teach the course starting next month. I'm getting involved in doing an afterschool project at McClymonds High, teaching students how to do weblogs, and I'm still tutoring. These things are what I've chosen to do. They're satisfying, uncomplicated, relaxing things to do. A true moment of Zen...

While riding my motorcycle to Berkeley today, I noticed that the weather was uncharacteristically hot, like an indian summer. When I got to Haste and Telegraph, my jacket was damp with sweat. This heat won't last though. Tomorrow the clouds and fog will probably reappear and I bet the San Francisco breeze will pick up once again. Moments in life, like the weather, comes and goes. It was with that thought in mind that I've opened myself to the possibility of getting a real job, a 9 to 5, or perhaps an 8 to 5. Reasonable people get real jobs I'm told. So tomorrow, 8am sharp, I'll be talking to the Chief Economist at just-another-consulting-firm about why I should be the man for the job, why it's I who should put valuations on people's life and businesses for litigation purposes.

It's not all Gog and Magog though, I've learned something in the past few months: I'm a good flounder, maybe in the 98 percentile of all flounders. Floundering for me is one way to thrive. I'm writing this so that in the event I actually stopped floundering, got a real job, and began following the school, I can be reminded weeks, months and years from now, that around September 19th 2002, my life was serendipitous, a paradoxical period of tumultuous calm.

It's amazing how much entertainment there is in the East Bay that I never get a chance to exploit. DJ and I were playing Dominoes at the back of the PUB tonight talking to a group of regulars; although I haven't seen them previously. They were experimenting with Salvia Divinorum, offering it to everyone who wanted to try it. Although almost everyone agreed that the effects was unnoticeable, one guy who tried it actually reported feeling something indescribable. Topics turned from one to another like usual. Some people were talking about pronation and proper walking posture. Other topics throughout the night included the newly discovered planet, Kepler, Berkeley mathematics, Dominoes, effedrine, Ma Huang, optimal currency area, Iraq, globalization, wireless internet, and medulla oblongata. It was the usual PUB talk.

DJ then found out from a patron or maybe Jennifer, the bartender, that Mal Sharpe was playing the Ivy Room a few blocks away. DJ recalls hearing his name on 88.1FM, a Jazz station in Southern California that we used to listen to daily because it was the only station that his Dad tuned to while driving. In fact, we'd joke that the Dodge van wouldn't start if someone switched the station. I haven't heard of him, but I'll pretty much listen to anything... [My google search of Mal Sharpe turned up the Jazz musician and the prank interviewer. Are they one and the same?] It didn't take long before we hopped on our bikes headed for the Ivy Room.

The crowd was light. Stewart, the dancer with a very noticeable missing tooth, was there dressed in slacks and a jacket mingling with two others that we'd seen before. One, a lady about 50, the other was in her 20s. Stewart would sometimes dance with one, sometimes the other and sometimes with both simultaneously. He's great. Tonight he even brought his tapping shoes. He's slender and tall, kind of like an older, grungier Fred Astaire. He can move though... They provided the perfect visualization of the night's music.

Mal Sharpe and the Big Money in Jazz Band was playing to a small audience. Maybe there were six or seven in the half of the Ivy Room that contained the stage. There were perhaps six or seven other people sitting near the bar on the other side. It didn't matter. The music was great. It was part dixieland, part blues. Nothing's more entertaining than watching a group of older jazz muscians at their craft. They'd grumble and speak in short bursts between songs in order to decide what to play next... you'd wait... then the song would start almost explosively all at once. Some of the songs, as DJ said, made you want to jump off Evans Hall. Others were uplifting. We met up with Mal again at Happy Donuts after the show, he came in to order a few to-go. It was all in all a good night. I appreciate nights like tonight for the people you meet and the live music. Seeing the hubs where people gather late night is a lot of fun. It's a lot better than watching TV.

Had to look up the meaning of skrill. I know the meaning, but I felt the need to look it up. I came upon this slang dictionary put together by the junior english class at Berkeley High. Alright boo, I'm gonna bounce with my breezy.

Slang Dictionary

I've been mountain biking recently around the San Francisco Bay area and wanted to share some pictures. Irene also thought it'd be a good idea. I hope my thirst for going out and exploring through mountain biking won't be quenched any time soon and maybe putting these pictures up will keep me going. Anyway, I wish I had some better pictures; like the shrimp drying apparatus at China Camp or the single tree on the beach at Point Reyes. Those pictures are in my head. I hope these will do until either Lisa or I become photo essayists.

Point Reyes

Lisa's riding a Cannondale F300 and I'm riding around on a Gary Fisher Tassajara. I really like my bike, but Lisa has some shifting problems with the front derailleur. I just ordered her a new one, hopefully that'll fix it.

Lake Chabot, Redwood Park

It was a little muddy the day we went to Redwood Park in Oakland, but there were a lot of other bikers on the trails and it was fun getting dirty.

China Camp

The best part of China Camp is the history of the site. Until the legislature of California ran the Chinese out of the shrimping business in the bay area, this small village thrived. They exported dried shrimp and made quite a good life for themselves. Too bad laws were imposed excluding the Chinese from becoming citizens, followed a few years later by outlawing shrimping during the best shrimping months of the year, then outlawing the export of dried shrimp - it didn't stop until the Chinese were driven out of business and left this beautiful area. The history of discrimination being the only scar left on this otherwise amazing place.

February 16th: Sometimes you have to stop talking and start walking...

I really enjoyed Friday (2/28/03) night's performance by the UC Symphony Orchestra and especially Shaw Pong Liu's debut as a soloist. I usually like going to the Hertz Music Hall to hear what the University Orchestra has in store. You just can't beat a two dollar admission to be bathed in music. Usually, I can only get two donuts on a fare like that. On a lucky night, the man at Happy Donuts will throw in an extra, a few donut holes; or if you're really lucky, a day-old mystery donut. Mmmm....

I feel hot, in Berkeley, in March. It's been amazingly sunny and pleasant here lately. Outside, the shadows are deep and sharp and the colors have their contrast turned up a few notches.

Happily walking to campus today, to toss the frisbee with Shaw Pong, I ran into this odd pair along Telegraph Avenue.

It goes to show that nothing is alien when you live here.

How can you not like this place?

On a lighter side... Some of you may know this about me already.

I usually stay up pretty late. I like listening and watching the news. Because of these two characteristics, I made an important discovery. Around 3am, you can catch Julia Caesar on ABC news here in the Bay Area. She reports on financial news and for obvious reasons (if you've watched), her reports make you smile. I get happy, silly happy that someone can be so entertained, and entertaining, when reporting on the FTSE index. Okay, that's my confession of the night. Now only if her website included a weblog. Hey, Julia, let me know if you ever want to join Evolving Type!

Now back to ABC news...

March 25-27th, we drove through the desert of Baja California in a Dodge. It was great.

Here's the Dodge and Brett between Ensenada and San Felipe.

One of the more memorable moments was watching the sun rise on San Felipe. Here's a short video stitched from pictures taken between 5:13 and 5:46am. (Click on the picture to see the 2mb mpeg)

DJ driving. Don't forget to go to the Drive-Thru insurance at the border.

You don't need a hotel when you have the Van. You don't need showers either.

Brett having a coconut. Where's Brett? Spot him in the SpringBreakers.

Walking along the beaches in San Felipe. DJ watching the sun rise with Tara, Sarah and Reesa (or two of those three).

Stopped at a roof-less adobe building to have a Carta Blanca during our drive from San Felipe to Mexicali. Strangest thing we saw on the trip: half a dog built into the adobe building. Yeah, we looked... only half a dog.

Great trip. Enjoyed talking to Raul, the owner of a taqueria. Gabriel in Rosarita wouldn't shut up and we couldn't understand him. In San Felipe, a guy asked us to hold two metal rods, then shocked us, then asked us for a dollar. What a great gig. Adios.

Tahoe : April 3-5

The Ol' Marketocracy gang up in Tahoe. Did anyone expect so much snow, so late in the season? Tahoe was brilliant white with that fluffy stuff.


Bolinas : April 5-6

I've never spent much time in Bolinas before this trip. Maybe driven through the town once or twice on the way to Stinson Beach or Point Reyes. The view out of Julie's family cabin was spectacular, a great green contrast to the white of Tahoe just a few hours earlier.

We played some b-ball, frisbee on Saturday and went for a 3hr tour the next day - in a a few kayaks. Then, we were so hungry that we walked to the nearest restaurant and had some barbequed oysters and clam chowder. In California, from its mountains to its oceans and across its deserts down to Baja, there's always something to do and some landscape that you just have to stare stupidly at and enjoy.

Hope VI puts on conferences for housing youths and they do some amazing things. I'm looking forward to going up to Seattle at the end of the month to work with them on weblogging. The video clip above is from a previous conference held in Berkeley, which I unfortunately didn't attend. I really like it though when I saw it so I thought I'd share it with y'all. It's in the evil Microsoft Video format (.wmv) so if you have a windows media player, it'll work. Enjoy.

Brett recently reminded me of how all our high school friends are "dropping like flies". Of course, by this he means that everyone's getting married and having kids, or, are unmarried and have kids. Wayne's talking about his friend in Oregon with three kids. Angie's on her third marriage. Tina, Kyndal, and Holy, three inseparable high school friends, are now all moms, something of a trifecta. I'm 24, so they have to be about my age. There's something unsettling in thinking about how everyone's getting married and having children, partly because the last time I saw many of them was in high school. They're still smoking and drinking and staying up till 4am in my mind. It's got to be a huge energy-sapping responsibility to raise a little human. I couldn't do it. I'm not even reliable enough to water the lawn everyday. That's why there are sprinklers. There should be baby sprinklers.

Meanwhile, the statistics tell us that the U.S. birth rate is at an all time low, it was 13.9 per 1,000 persons in 2002.

Oh well, here's to escaping the madness. And there's definitely some madness in growing up in life-defining leaps and responsibility ushering bounds. And it definitely crosses some options off your list once you're a mom or a dad. Can't really take a solo trip to any place that ends in -stan for about 18yrs. Have to rethink riding motorcycles without life insurance. No working day and night to get ahead in your career (though this might be a plus). Not easy in any case.

I noticed one thing in all these conversations: those who get married and have kids are more often those people who stay in the place that they grew up. Maybe they're the ones who gave up on solo trips to afghanistan or tadzhikistan. In labor economics, there are studies about how college delays family life (but there could be self selection going on, whereby the people who want to have kids aren't going to college so college isn't a cause, it's just correlation). There's also a huge selection bias in my observation since I'm mostly going on information from people I've grown up with. Anyone with anecdotal evidence of the opposite?

Just so you don't misunderstand and think I'm totally negative about the subject, I can see the counter-argument too: the miracle of childbirth, the genetic programming in our hormone filled blood, and the life enriching experience. On balance though, I don't get it. In my harshest moments, it seems like giving up. I think that's why squids and many other animals die after giving birth. See, I haven't grown up. I can't reason this out. I think this type of logic has to come in life-defining leaps and responsibility ushering bounds. No baby steps.

P.S. In some future entry, I'll probably try to figure out what my opinion is on the socially constructed institution of marriage. In lots of ways it seems a bit superfluous to me. Why do we need it in the 21st century? Can we do without it?

Take a look Here

Saturday, October 4th, 8pm
Cafe de la Paz
1600 Shattack (at Cedar), Berkeley
Admission is free.
(Suggested donation $5-15)
Cafe de la Paz offers pre-show fine dining at 6pm. Pamper you palate and get preferential seating for the show! Reservations: (510) 843-0662.

Sunday, October 5th, 3pm
Youth Employment Partnership (YEP) Gallery
23rd Avenue and International Boulevard (E.14th St.), Oakland
Admission is free. Donations welcome!

Wrapped up in studying for my first midterm as a grad student, I almost forgot that today marks the release of Time Crisis 3, the update to my favorite Playstation 2 game. I'll need a little break after midterm season and now I know just the thing.

Actually, studying for midterms is a time crisis too, though not nearly as fun as capping bad mofos in the living room with an orange gun.

NAMCO - Time Crisis 3 - The Official Site

The number of married graduate students is quite high, and it's strange to be around married people all of a sudden. They go home after classes to take care of the family... I can't even imagine. Yep, people lining up for extra responsibilty. But, you know the flip side of having peers that are married? Kids. I'm lobbying for married couples in the department to have kids so that they can get over the perverse state of being married without kids. I mean, what's the point in that?!

Actually, having little people running around the department is a lot of fun so long as I'm not responsible for them. I can't even be responsible for myself -- I still picture myself falling a few stories, off the chest-high concrete walls, whenever I jump on top and sit on them absentmindedly.

I hope the kids don't see me doing that.

I was archiving their earlier albums onto my computer tonight when I checked their tour schedule and found this:

11/20 Thu Sacramento, CA Arco Arena

Tonight's the last night of Simon & Garfunkel's west coast tour that I could possibly get out to.

Plus, this will probably be the last tour they will do together, both having turned 62 recently. I wish I could turn the clock back a few hours, scratched the idea of turning in my homework tomorrow and found a way to the Arco Arena.

Earlier today, while riding my bike around school, and having noticed the fallen leaves gathered, covering patches of grass and asphalt, I started singing S&G's "Leaves That Are Green" to myself:

I was twenty-one years when I wrote this song.
I'm twenty-two now but I won't be for long
Time hurries on.
And the leaves that are green turn to brown,
And they wither with the wind,
And they crumble in your hand.

Hello, Hello, Hello, Hello,
Good-bye, Good-bye, Good-bye, Good-bye,
That's all there is.
And the leaves that are green turned to brown,
And they wither with the wind,
And they crumble in your hand.

Pictures to remind me of Thanksgiving 2K3.

To Lisa--
We met quietly,
In math camp, talking softly,
You said you're from Nebraska,
I said, cool, let's make some angel-hair pasta.

To Sean--
Your hair curly and mine straight.
Smiles on us like liquid hot college bait.
found your number and grabbed a bite
in Santa Barbara as sun to dusk lost to night.

To Brett & Lauren--
You two are too cool,
like a nap that leaves drool,
now I'm watching The O.C. like a crazy fool,
see you again when I'm outta school.

I want to share this with you.
I want to be head-down, folded in a pew.
I've slipped back into writing verse
why not.. concrete and florescents seemed my curse
until shadows darkened
and gravity strengthened.
then rhyming couplets flooded my mind
reminding me of softer voices delicate and kind.

I should be drinking whiskey and beer
to welcome my guests: solitude and fear.
by what coincidence did they arrive together?
flying in here like birds of a feather.

I've never prayed or been religious
only this hour feels heavy and time egregious.
I'll excuse myself to sleep, wearily hide.
dream that I'll wake to the lapping of a gentler tide.

cloudy today,
sweetly rainy;
wet motorcycle,
sit in cool honey;
mashed potatoes,
coffee gravy;

macro inertia,
micro momentum;
on leased time,
can't afford 'em;
wrestling my own
-- cerebellum.

Lisa P. and I decided that the sunny day was too good to squander sitting around in Davis so we headed to Berkeley, picked up DJ enroute, for a visit with Ricardo and his wife, Marcela. Ricardo and Marcela happen to be house-sitting for a professor in the Berkeley Hills, a house with a great view overlooking the bay. By coincidence I ran into Steven (who lived with DJ and I for about a month back in 1998-99?) and Terry Park, a guy I knew from high school, all within a matter of five minutes, between Blondie's and the Durant/Channing parking garage. By the way, the culinaryily-challenged looked on with amazement as Marcela whipped up a great apple pancake dessert with flour, milk, and apples. Forgetting that we were already full from Top Dog and Zachary's, we ate it all up. Nota Bene: get the recipe.

Ricardo and Marcela

~60 degrees

~50 degrees

MMmmm....

I'm sitting at SFO, waiting at the United terminal for my 1pm flight to Tokyo. T-Mobile has installed wi-fi hotspots which makes it easy to check email, and post this entry. I'm watching a 757 roll away from me checking its rudder and elevator controls. Everyone in the terminal sit, every other seat, staring blankly around the room, not talking. Sort of weird how people are such social animals yet norms dictate that you not talk to strangers. The guy sitting at 2 o'clock has the same shoes as I do, except they're red Saucony's instead of the blue ones I have. Good choice of footware for travel. He doesn't know I'm writing about him. I could tell him he has nice shoes, but then again, I'm a dude so I'll shut up.

While in the TSA line, an army officer in fatigues was standing behind me. He left Iraq about two days ago and has been traveling to get to Okinawa, where his family is waiting for him. He's off for two weeks before he has to head back to Iraq. I wanted to tell him that I was against the war, but that I appreciated his service. I didn't have the guts to say that for some reason and just wished him a good trip. I'm wishing myself a good trip. I'll be back next year, Jan 1st.

Nov 5, 1944 - Dec 25, 2003

I first met Lai walking the streets around GuangAn Hospital. We were walking in opposite directions when he stopped me to ask for directions. Since I was a stranger in Beijing, I was preparing to tell him that I didn't know where anything is. Out of his pocket he pulled a piece of paper that had GuangAn Hospital printed. I laughed and told him that that was the only place I knew how to get to. We were close by and we talked about bicycles as we walked over since he was pushing a bike that looked strange to me. It didn't have a chain for one thing. I learned that he was named after Zhou En Lai, a leader of the Communist Party, because his dad was a sociology teacher in Denmark, and a fan of the Communists. Lai was looking for a place for acupuncture so I left him when we reached the lobby of the hospital.

A few days later, Dec 26th, I was walking the streets looking for a bike to purchase and saw Lai's unique looking bike parked outside a store that sold kitchen furniture like stovetops and cabinets. I went inside and saw his big smiling face coming toward me. In a city of millions we ran into each other again by chance. He told me that his flight was changed and he wasn't able to bring the bike back with him and wanted to sell it for Yuan$1500, the cost of the stovetop that we wanted to buy. He wanted the gas stovetop with heavy black enameled burners because it was distinctively Chinese and not your typical souvenir, "every time I cook it'll remind me of China" he said.

I had been looking at bikes of all kinds that day, including electric bikes. But even the electric bikes with their gizmo whirl and effortless propulsion didn't compare with Lai's Biomega Copenhagen. It looked like it saw a lot of use and it had stories hidden in the scrapes and bruises of its aluminum frame. I told him I'd buy it. I took it for a quick ride down the street, listening for the whine of the shaft-drive and clicking through the internal three speed.

Unfortunately, I only had Yuan$1300. The ATM didn't want to cooperate, rejecting my card on two different machines. Lai was fine with the Y$1300 so the deal was struck. I emptied my wallet, giving him an additional Yen$1000 that I had from the stop-over in Japan. We talked over a few beers at a small local restaurant; about the passing of my mom and the passing of his father. About the fluidity of life and the places and faces we've known. Half-drunk from sharing two liters of Chinese beer at a total cost of Yuan$6, we exchanged contacts, each believing in the strength of instant friendships. I rode home that day on Lai's bike, marvelling at the fact that I bought a Danish bicycle in Beijing.

Denoument: While going home that day I braked too hard avoiding a women coming head-on and a taxi on my left, flipping over the handlebars and summersaulting spectacularly onto the street. I wasn't hurt, and my gloves were incredibly intact (thanks to the freezing temperature, I was actually wearing them).

Now, I'm sitting in the airport at Tokyo, waiting for my connection, waiting to be home, and looking forward to breathing air that doesn't make you subconsciously take shallow breaths.

I've always been a city boy, doing city boy stuff. But Jan 2-4, and last weekend, I've been invited by Tina to relax in Santa Rosa, on a ranch shared with many horses, 3 dogs, 5 cats and 2 goats. Tina tried to teach me how to ride a horse (Jesse), and David taught me how to drive a tractor - I got to clear mud using the loader. Tina even took me to see the family vineyard. Tina, Lisa and I also enjoyed some color this past weekend; green patches of pasture, orange skies, blue water, and sandy beaches. In the warm company of friends, we satiated ourselves with excellent food and the beauty nestled between the hills and sea.

Tina and Dexter into the sun / A special vineyard in Sonoma

Me, the tractor operator / View from breakfast table

Ken sent me this picture today:

Hey- hope all is good. I think about you every time I go by this place in Potrero Hill.

Lisa and I were in Thailand from July 14th to about the 25th. This picture was taken while on a 2 day 'trekking tour' near Chiang Rai. Our guide told us later that we could've been eating dog meat that morning; really spicy and fatty dog meat if it's true.

The Japanese man with us in the picture is almost 60 years old. In fact, he told everyone within the first few minutes of meeting them that he's close to 60. We didn't believe him until he showed us his passport. At one point, while resting at a small shop near the end of our trip, he began asking about the remainder of our hike, its grade and duration. I assumed he had had enough. "A little up, then down, down - two hours," our guide told him.

He ended his inquiry with a short, thoughtful pause, and said, "okay, one bottle of beer."

Mirror Lake turns into Mirror Swamp in the fall, but there's still enough reflection in the lake to show off the redness of the sunset licking the granite peaks. At the top of Nevada Falls is a contrast in seasons, with a view of snow in the distance and the sun warming your back.

We took the John Muir trail on the way back, then discovered it was closed due to ice. But some people foolishly went ahead anyway.

From the SF Chronicle:

David Gray, 21, a sophomore wide receiver for the Bears from Richmond, was arrested in the North Beach neighborhood of San Francisco at about 1 a.m. Friday. He was booked into the county jail on charges of tampering with identification marks of a firearm, a felony.

Yeah, he came from a tough neighborhood, but that's why I was so excited to see him become a good football player at Cal. Why does he have to live up to the stereotype?

I wrote this about two years ago:

Cal's Season Opener

I'm glad, ecstatic, thrilled that Cal's football team got off to a 70-22 start this year. As the Daily Cal writes:

Cal ignited the onslaught in its first play from scrimmage, and in the most audacious way imaginable.

Bears quarterback Kyle Boller lateraled to halfback Terrell Williams, who then lobbed the ball to a wide open David Gray for a 71-yard touchdown.

"I was just running across the field and hoped the ball would be there," Gray said. "I didn't see him throw it, so I didn't know if the ball was coming or not."

After appearing to stumble and then regain his balance, Gray caught the pass and ran it in for Cal's first touchdown from an opening play since Marcus Fields' 49-yard run against Rutgers in 1999.

I remember when I was at McClymonds High School last year watching David Gray & Co. play, they would always put on a show and cap a game with a similar score. At the time, when I asked a Mack student about the team, he replied, "Yeah, our team is all nastttty and saucccy."

Well, it must've rubbed off. Because last weekend's game was about as nasty and saucy as it gets.

Lisa and I camped for two nights in Death Valley after a good visit to mister Sean (Solace) Simpson in Santa Barbara and my good ol' friends in the O.C.

Death Valley is HUGE. Bigger than many states. It takes a lot of driving to see everything. We didn't get to the big sand dunes because a four hour round trip over gravel roads would've asked too much of the Honda Accord we were riding in. The winds whipped up our second day in the valley. We came back to Stovepipe Wells campgrounds and found a tent pole broken and sticking through the rain fly. Luckily, we met Hiro, Emi et. al. as they were leaving and they lent us their old school Coleman tent.

This is what got us to Death Valley. The uncommon rains this year produced fields of wildflowers in the desert valley.

Death Valley has so many landscapes. This is a natural bridge. Here the rocks were sedimentary and carved by floods.

My first visit to a salt flat. Pretty salty to the taste.

Wide-Angle.

The rocks near the gold mine all shimmered and seemed to tell how the miners were a lazy bunch and missed a lot of good ore. Seriously sparkly rocks.

There are a few volcanic craters in the park with soft-feeling igneous rocks covering the ground that seemed to give way under your feet.

Nothing gives way under your feet like fine sand. This was our last stop and it made you feel like you were finally in a desert - a Hollywood desert.

Folding clothes, japanese style.
www.cs.hut.fi/~demi/cloth_folding.mpeg

That's what the pilot announced over the speakers about an hour into American Airlines flight 1869 travelling from Dallas to San Francisco on Jan 1st, 2006. He had just informed of the passengers and crew that an emergency landing was about to take place -- into Amarillo, Texas. "We have a loss of flight controls. We are seeing inputs into the flight controls that are not being made by myself or the first officer." Basically, our rudder was getting a mind of its own he later explained.

I was relieved to hear that announcement. For about five minutes prior to the announcement the plane had been banked right and decending fast. I was a little concerned at first when I heard a shudder and surprised to see us turn in mid flight. When I was certain something was wrong (since commercial flights tend not to waste gas doing circles in mid flight) and no announcement came from the captain, for the first time in a long time, I panicked and felt my pulse race a bit. Hearing that something was indeed wrong made me feel better, although other passengers who were sleeping or unaware of the situation gasped.

The emergency landing into Amarillo was uneventful except for the jack rabbit that scurried across the runway as we landed and the applause in the cabin. Once at a stop, the captain toured the cabin and answered questions from passengers and said it'd be probably three to four hours before they would be able to get a plane into Amarillo to ferry us to San Francisco. "But it's better to be down here wishing you were up there than to be up there wishing you were down here," he said.

I had never been so happy to set my foot on Texas soil.

Waiting in the lounge we watched "Anchorman" with Laura, a design student and intern who had been in Hong Kong and was on her way to an internship in San Francisco. Then while eating pizza with Lisa, an 81 year old woman named Phyllis fell face first down the escalators. I think it's the first time I heard "Help! Help!". I ran over, saw a motionless woman, face down, head-first decending accompanied by women who were now frentic. I was able to hit the emergency stop button just before the poor woman was about to be swept by the bottom flange of the escalator. She was talking about five minutes later although was still motionless waiting for the parametics. That was the second emergency of the day.

Previous to that second emergency, while waiting in the lounge, a woman (A teacher at UNR) came up and asked if Lisa and I had been in Rio de Janeiro and Sao Paulo. It turns out she had seen us at many different places over the past two weeks and was even in MNG and ZARA when Lisa was doing some shopping and shared our flight home. What of accidents, incidents and coincidence.

Too much excitement to start the new year.

Last night at Sophia's, the local bar and Thai restaurant in Davis, everyone was yelling at each other because it was Friday night and I was smack dab in the middle of a bar. So it's expected that I leave with a ring in my ear. But what if everybody could talk at a moderate voice? Wouldn't that be better? You would still be able to hear what someone within high-fiving distance was saying and my throat would be less sore and my ears would have thanked you.

Isn't this the classic externality? It's not unlike pollution and traffic congestion in that we don't internalize the cost of our actions when speaking in the local pub. When I raise my voice so that I can be heard, it makes it slightly harder for the table next to me to continue their conversation at a reasonable volume and so they raise their volume, and in no time I'm screaming and you only see my mouth move. Maybe Italians and Spaniards have had it worse and so have developed elaborate gestures to make up for the loss of vocalization in such situations? My gesture repretoire is inadequate for communication, so please don't be offended if I politely leave you to your drinking.

I've always wondered which part of the Bible IN-N-OUT was trying to get me to read while slurping on a chocolate shake. They're printed on the burger and fries holders: NAHUM 1:7; PROVERBS 3:5, REVELATION 3:20 among others I suppose. So I looked them up.

REVELATIONS 3:20 - Behold, I stand at the door, and knock: if any man hear my voice, and open the door, I will come in to him, and will sup with him, and he with me.

PROVERBS 3:5 - Trust in the LORD with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding.

NAHUM 1:7 - The LORD is good, A stronghold in the day of trouble, And He knows those who take refuge in Him.

I guess these quotes are comforting. As comforting as a good burger, fries and a Coke in times of hunger and strife.

Moon as seen behind the co-op in Davis.

This Sci-Am article suggests the right kind of encouragement and mindset are important in overcoming challenges for kids and adults. I tend to agree; although, I've seen some hard working students in my class struggle with conceptual problems while others who just "get" it.

At times, the intellectual hurdle seems too high to them and students think the effort required might as well be infinite; and therefore, they give up before they understand a concept or solve the problem. But it's exactly at those times where a little bit of extra effort can see real payoffs. That's something I've forgotten about lately too and could use the reminder. Note to self:

http://www.sciam.com/article.cfm?id=the-secret-to-raising-smart-kids&print=true

It's young people working an old town
it's ambition combusting in frustrations
it's formal attire, cheap opportunities, and static cling
It's fried chicken chinese food and gourmet everything else

Low growth, low inflation, low interest rates. The Japanese economy writ large? I think that's what's going to happen for the next few years. The credit squeeze and the fall in home prices is going to shrink the nominal values of everything in the economy. There's going to be a rise in unemployment and a lack of investment, keeping the demand for money and interest rates low. I think I'm going to invest in healthcare because expenditure in healthcare is more inelastic and there's still a tremendous amount of innovation happening in the healthcare sector.

I've been made honorarily gay by he passage of proposition 8. Fact is I woke up feeling more solidarity with gay people than straight because of the passage of prop 8, which amends the constitution of California to redefine marriage as between someone with a penis and someone with a vagina.

Separate but equal is inherently unequal and so civil unions will never be acceptable to the gay community as a separate but equal legal status, especially in California. This is California!!! The government should not intrude into personal relationships between two consenting adults and should treat everyone the same. The intrusion is especially discriminatory because it is based on physical characteristics, and the government should get out of the business of checking on what type of genitalia people have.

The fact that the proponents used the teaching of gay marriage to children as a scare tactic is depraved. No one is going to be saying "gay,gay,gay,gay,gay" in school. And in any case, who gives a fuck? Isn't school about learning facts? There are whales in the ocean, and there are gay people in the world. Teaching kids about gays won't turn them gay. Being around gay people won't turn them gay. Maybe we shouldn't teach kids about wizards just in case they turn warlock! Gay, gay, gay, gay, gay!

The demographics favor gay marriage in the future, but in order to get society to take a speedier path toward enlightenment, I'm going to say "gay,gay,gay,gay,gay" and patiently explain why this is a pock on California.

Obama 2008!!!

http://www.walkscore.com/

Rates the walkability of your neighborhood. I scored a 53.