Sunday’s plan was to take the kids on a hike while Vick got some stuff done around the boat. Around 10:30 I got the kids dressed for the day and up to the car. Sitting in the parking lot looking out at the storm clouds moving over the Bay, I suggested to the kids that maybe today wasn’t the best day for a hike. We decided the the California Academy of Science was a safer bet and drove in to San Francisco for a day of museuming fun. ...
I was just updating my privacy settings on Facebook and found this Note from a year ago yesterday. I have played exactly two of these “games” on Facebook and this is the one that I took seriously. I decided to repost it here, today, partly because I think it’s neat that I wrote it a year ago (almost exactly) and partly because I think I would write pretty much the same thing today. Also, as I mention in the list, I long to be undersood. ...
Thought this was pretty funny. Thanks to this article by the super funny and entertaining Janna Cawrse Esarey for hooking me up with this video.
From time to time I am reminded that my culture has no coming of age tradition. Some of the effects of this deficit are subtle, some more obvious. This weekend, as I near my 35th birthday I experienced another Man Making Moment. Man Making Moments are different for everyone. I suspect many are like me and derive some significant part of their manliness ideal from their fathers. For me, the image of my dad under the hood, fixing, tuning and explaining our car’s inner workings, has left a mark. ...
I wish I could think up a clever analogy for buying a boat. It would be gratifying to package this whole experience up in a tidy little cliche and dispense that wisdom to people who, like us, are suffering the tumultuous ups and downs of buying a circumnavigating sailing vessel on a small budget. Maybe, “Buying a boat is like high school girlfriends… but without the kissing.” I have fallen in love 3 times in 3 weeks. So far, no kisses. Maybe its a little melodramatic to say that these inanimate objects have “dumped me.” After all, my sentience should give me the upper hand in these relationships, but if you ask my wife, she’ll corroborate. I am reduced to a sappy, romantic, drooling boy when presented with high combings, a butterfly hatch, or a fancy cabin. I even tell myself not to let my emotions cloud my judgment, but its no use. ...
The e-mail from Bentley’s Hotel came while we were still in the relative comfort of our Hong Kong hotel. The management let us know that our “Tentative Reservation” could not be filled. We would have to find another place to stay. For some reason this didn’t strike either dad or I as a particularly big deal. We spent the morning hoofing it around Hong Kong Island. When our feet started to fail us we took a bus until we were ready to walk again. Our journey led us through an amazing outdoor market, a bustling shopping district, and eventually through the Botanical Gardens. By the time we figured out how lost we were, there was nothing for it but to hail a cab and get found, and back to the hotel.