Christmas Letter 2010

Dear Friends and Family,

Our Christmas letter usually involves an exhaustive (and exhausting!) recap of our annual adventures, but then isn't that what this blog is for?  Still, it's nice to reflect from a wider perspective once in a while, so we're going to take this tradition to the electronic age and hope we save a couple of trees in the process.  This year we really focused on our families and wanted to share with you how the year's events made us more thankful, thoughtful, and present.

On a humid August night, I woke up in Justin and Bridget's guest bedroom with thoughts racing through my head. Jess was sound asleep. Having finally gotten rid of our tenant who hadn't paid the rent in five months, we were staying with J&B while we took care of cleaning out the old house up on the other side of Baltimore. There was a laundry list of repairs to be made before we could put the house back on the market, and the receipts were piling up. My mother, who'd been diagnosed with liver cancer earlier in the year, was waiting for us with the rest of the family at a reunion in Delaware. The long day of house work and the beer that night didn't tire my brain, so I wrote a letter to my mom. It was a rambling, epic, string-of-consciousness type of letter. I said something about having been lucky to have been born to a fortunate line of individuals at a fortunate time in history; how good parenting prepared me for taking chances; how just plain good luck has brought me so much joy; how it is awesome to think that even though we're 3000 miles away, we can fly across the sky in a metal tube at 600 miles an hour and talk to each other from practically anywhere. That letter of thankfulness to them and to the universe helped me get back to sleep that night, and when we were in New York for Thanksgiving I saw it on mom and dad's fridge, posted like a kindergarten crayon drawing. Good parenting indeed.

Thumbs up, Mr. President!

Besides long emails, the news about my mom's health prompted some big changes for me this year. Jess often brags about my superhuman powers of productivity and her superhuman ability to keep up with “the whirlwind that is James Frank.” When Mom was diagnosed in February, the little whirlwind turned into a category 5 hurricane. Faced with the reality that time is truly our most limited resource, I jumped headlong into a million big and small projects that I've been “meaning to do” or was newly inspired to take on. Without going into too much detail, I made a couple of websites: www.ThisLittlePaperclip.org (which really needs a team of volunteers to flesh-out into more than just a concept) and www.JamesEntertains.com (which has become a very fun sideline); and we now have a flock of chickens, an indoor greenhouse, no less than three homemade devices for dehydrating fruits and jerky, three cases of homemade plum wine, and a “kegerator” that dispenses four bottomless kegs of delicious home brew at a time. In the midst of all of the necessary work with sharp objects for some of these projects, I nearly lost my thumb- a reminder from the powers-that-be to be more careful and slow down a little. Again, by good luck and modern medicine, it is happily sewed back on and good as new (but it did force me to take a little break). I had to give Jess a chance to catch her breath...

James definitely knows how to wear out even the heartiest soul, but his energy is usually infectious rather than exhausting. I too made a few life changes after hearing Mom's news. It is unfortunate that sometimes it takes a reminder of our own mortality to get us to make important life changes that put us on a path to happiness. Ten years ago I lost my Dad to cancer, and the thing he said then that sticks with me most is “I wasted so much time.” James' Mom has also said she just wants more time. We all want more time- but not to work or make money or go shopping. We want time with our loved ones, time to play and explore and experience all that this world has to offer. I was inspired by Mom, and by that memory of my Dad, to quit the job that was draining the life, energy and spirit out of me. I went home to Virginia for a week to see my sisters and celebrate my best friend Bridgett's 30^th birthday. I started blogging about my “Everyday Adventures” keeping up with James and experiencing new things here in California. We started doing trivia night and poker night. I looked up a choir to join so I can start singing again. I finished building a garden for our little community. I started living again. Now I have a nice part-time job in Berkeley that gets me the socialization I was craving and gives me two days a week to help me keep up with Hurricane James and explore the things I love to do.

We're lucky and excited to be heading home to both of our families this Christmas. We were reminded this year to appreciate our time with them. We've started to build relationships and put down roots in this place, and we're still connected to the people and places that were home before now. We enjoyed hosting a lot of folks this year in California- we hope you can take some time out to travel West in the coming year and join us as we keep exploring and enjoying everything life has to offer.

Be well,

Jess and James

My Dad and Bobby Thompson: Two of the Best Role Models a Kid Could Have

There are lessons you learn when you're young that don't really hit home until years later.  In this case it took me nearly 20...

I was about to turn 12 when my brother Mike graduated from college.  The big thing at my school (and probably every school in the country for that matter) was anything with an image of Bart Simpson on his skateboard, saying dimwitty teenage things like "Underachiever, and proud of it, man."
I had some "cool" friends who pretty much fit the Bart Simpson image.  Patrick's older brother Matt was on the cross country team at the junior high.  He was a good athlete who liked to smoke in the bathroom.  He enjoyed throwing firecrackers at squirrels and pigeons, and starting small gasoline fires in his back yard to see what happened when you put different things into burning gasoline...  Their neighborhood buddy Jimmy was good at Nintendo 64 games which he played at the Toys-R-Us down the street while munching on Reese's Peanut Butter Cups out of a fresh package he'd opened from the next aisle over.

Me?  I kept a half dozen fish tanks in my bedroom and wrote articles for the local aquarium society's newsletter about breeding Siamese fighting fish.  Yup, I was and always will be a dork.  And I'm proud of that. 

So what happened 20 years ago that kept me on the straight and narrow?  It might have to do with all three of us (Mike, Liz, and I) sharing a hand-me-down newspaper route as kids.  More accurately, it might have something to do with dad's addiction to reading that newspaper.

The newspaper was a central part of our lives growing up.  We folded, bagged, and delivered 30 or so papers in the neighborhood on our bikes first thing in the morning, every morning.  When each of us turned old enough to get our driving permit, dad would take us to do the route on Sundays and then let us practice in the mall parking lot, which was pretty much empty at 7 am.  While mom clipped coupons and we spread cream cheese and jelly on the bagels we'd picked up on the way home, dad would read aloud whatever article piqued his interest as though the rest of us were as interested as he was.  He'd always add his own editorial comments as he went along -  "'...Cuomo's raising taxes again.' What a dirt bag!  What a Schmuck!"  Mom might be on the phone, Liz might be trying to focus on reading a book, or we might all be getting dressed for the 40 minute trip over to Aunt Liz and Uncle Rick's, but dad would be shouting the article at the top of his lungs by then, "can you believe this idiot?!" with us interjecting something like "Dad, we need to get ready to go, can we read the paper later in the car?"  "I'm almost finished..." more reading... then "Listen to this bullshit!" and he'd continue on in his robe while we were on our way out the door...

There was no escape.  When we went away to college, dad clipped the articles and sent them to us.  Empty nest syndrome?  I suppose so.

At a few bucks a week for ten years, I figure the paper would have cost the family a little over $1500.  A low price considering the cost of cable TV (which was and still is crap), but we got the paper free on account of early morning child labor... hey, I didn't complain.  In sixth grade I paid with my own $109 in cash for a Gameboy, thank you very much.  Add to that the bonus of having extra papers on Sundays when the ads came out, and mom's coupon clipping probably saved us thousands more.

The paper route taught us responsibility.  Maybe that was the problem with Patrick's brother and his friend Jimmy...  Every kid should have a paper route. 

Back to the point...
As he occasionally still does, earlier this week dad sent me an envelope filled with recent newspaper clippings.  I always smile when I see his envelopes in the mailbox because I never know what to expect.  This one was no exception, and I was completely caught off guard.  The article it contained... well... like I said, it really hit home.  "Thompson Gone but Homer Lives On..."

About the same time as I had the paper route, I was really into baseball.  Dad always volunteered to coach my little league teams.  He kept stats on all of us, and at the end of each season he'd present every player on the team with an honorary award certificate of some sort.  Even the worst kid on the team, the one who was always picking dandelions in right field when he wasn't kicking piles of dirt while sitting on the bench for half the game, would get an award.  I can see the smile on that kid John's face when he got it, too.  His parents never came to see him play, but dad gave him a certificate that made him smile.   

My baseball career ended when I didn't make the school team in 7th grade.  It was on account of trying too hard.  I swung for the fence and missed the ball every time.  If dad had his way I probably would have gotten the "Hardest Tryer Award."

Mike had just graduated from Geneseo, and he was already on his fellowship at Georgetown, living in DC.  For his graduation from Geneseo (which he'd finished in three years by the way, so yes, the trying hard gene is in the blood), mom and dad took us all to Windows on the World, the fancy restaurant in the city at the top of the World Trade Center.  I had the shrimp. And it was damn good.

The Maitre D'it  pointed out all of the bridges in the panoramic view of the city looking East towards Long Island.  I was wearing a suit and tie, a very rare occasion indeed even to this day.  And then dad overheard something from a nearby table...  "Do you still have the bat?"

A few more clues revealed that the gentleman being asked the question was not only a baseball player, but probably the most famous one of all time.  Dad leaned over to mom and I heard him whisper to her "...I'm sure of it."

Next thing I know, I'm standing with dad in front of this table of old men in suits, probably all drinking scotch.  "I couldn't help but overhear you gentlemen, and I think I've pieced it together.  You're Bobby Thompson.  You're the man who hit the 'Shot heard 'round the world."

"I am indeed."  He stood up.  I really had no idea who this guy was.  I just knew he'd played baseball and now he was old.  "And who is this with you?"

"This is my son, Jamie.  I coach his baseball team out on Long Island."

Bobby Thompson shook my hand.  He called over the Maitre D'it and asked if we could use a menu for an autograph.  He obliged, and Bobby Thompson wrote me a note on it, signing it "To James..." I thought about selling it back in 2001, but I still have it somewhere...  It's worth more to me now than anyone else in the world.

The article dad sent me this week was about Bobby Thompson's passing.  Mr. Thompson died in August at age 86.  He recently took a fall and had been living his last years with his daughter in Georgia (a familiar story for me since it's pretty much what happened to my great uncle Joe...  I've always told myself I'm making it at least to 86).

The famous "shot heard 'round the world" was Bobby Thompson's immortalizing moment on October 3, 1951.  My dad was just four years old.  It was the third game of a tied three-game series between the New York Giants and the Brooklyn Dodgers.   With the Dodgers ahead 4 to 2 in the bottom of the 9th inning, one out and two men on base, Bobby Thompson took his first pitch, a strike.  His next was it- the line drive over the left field fence that won the series and sent the Giants to the World Series.  It was heroic.  It was a miracle.  It was his one claim to fame for the rest of his life, and an inspiration to countless people, myself included a generation and a half later.

The article quotes one of his teammates, Monte Irvin, explaining that after the game Thompson couldn't remember running the bases, but only the third base coach, Leo Durocher, telling him before his at bat "If you ever hit one, hit one now."

The lesson in all of this is that when opportunity knocks, you'd best be ready to answer the door.  Bobby Thompson saw an opportunity and made happen what had to happen.  He also shook my hand once because my dad saw that opportunity.  I've always tried to take advantage of every opportunity I've been given, and now I have a better handle on how I came to be that way.  Thanks, dad. 

"Are you the po-leece?"

"They're announcing the verdict at 4."  The lady telling me this over the phone was canceling our meeting downtown.  Chaos was expected to break out regardless of the verdict.

The case started before we got to Oakland.  Late the previous New Years Eve, a not-so-cooperative kid was shot in the back and killed by a BART (Bay Area Rapid Transit) cop.  The cop claims he thought he was holding his taser.  The video someone recorded on their phone from the train shows pretty clearly that it wasn't a taser.  The kid was black, the cop was white.  Riots ensued.   

Aside from a coworker who briefly mentioned the story after we first moved in last year, I didn't know a thing about it.  The week before the 4th of July I noticed some storefronts around the city boarding their windows up.  There were rent-a-cops everywhere.  I asked someone in the grocery store checkout line what was up.  The verdict on the (former) BART cop's trial had been anticipated that week, but it was delayed, supposedly because a juror had a vacation planned. The stores were prepping for the worst.

It was 3pm, and I was on my way home for a late lunch before my meeting, so I told the lady I would skip lunch and come right over.  Two blocks from the building she called again.  "They're sending everyone home.  We have to reschedule."  I called the office to see what they wanted me to do.  "Go home."  I was just a few blocks from our neighborhood, so I turned around and inched along in traffic for 25 minutes.

That night we lay awake in bed listening to sirens and helicopters over on Broadway, and the occasional loud popping noise, which we hoped was just someone lighting off their leftover fireworks. 

I woke up refreshed, packed my uniform, and headed to work.  

My uniform is pretty spiffy for a naturalist.  It's got epaulettes on the shoulders that make me look important, a patch on the left shoulder, a brass name badge with my title, "Supervising Naturalist" under my name, and a cute badge depicting some kind of non-distinct wading bird in a marsh.

For the most part, people visiting the parks recognize me for what I am.  If a group of kids I'm teaching is from a rough area though, I'll ocassionally get asked "are you the po-leece?"  I ask them to read my badge, which leads them to ask "what's a na-.. na-- naaaturalist?" 

Based on recent events, Oakland is not a good place to be confused as a cop.


Last week the Oakland PD had to lay off 80 cops.  Their union wouldn't go for increasing their personal contribution to the pension system.  The next day they announced all of the crimes they would no longer respond to due to the reduction.  In short, unless you're in a life-threatening situation, don't expect a cop to be showing up any time soon.

That afternoon there were even more rent-a-cops at the grocery store.  The parking lot seemed a little more thuggish.

I'm starting to feel like I'm in the thick of it. 

Last week our neighbor, Ruben saw a lady getting mugged on the street below our apartment.  It was noon.  She didn't give her purse to the guy.  He struggled and then ran.  She was lucky.

Sunday night a random guy was shot-down near Chinatown.  He was here from the DC area for an interview at Google.  The two guys who robbed him and his friend weren't caught. 

On Saturday night, on my way home from a movie, a few police cars flew past me, and one started swerving to slow the traffic.  They sometimes do this because of accidents.  The cop who was slowing us eventually stopped.  I was just slightly behind him when his partner hopped out, gun in hand, yelling "I don't know where the suspect is!  I don't know where the suspect is!"

WTF!?!!!

I called out to him to ask what he wanted me to do.  We were on an overpass and all I could think is that whoever they were looking for was hiding in the bushes or under the overpass.  He wanted all the cars to back up and exit at the overpass!!!  Another cop had stopped traffic and was directing us back to the exit ramp.  I knew the area and was able to follow the back streets to the house.  On my way over the highway a little further up, people were stopped on the bridge watching whatever was going on.  20 police cars had surrounded a truck on the side of the highway.  The cops were behind their open car doors, and gunshots blazed.  I decided to get home and hunker down.

The next morning the story was out.  The guy was from some podunk town near Yosemite.  He had shot at a Highway Patrol officer who'd pulled him over for erratic driving.  I think I saw the two cars that must have pulled him over; I slowed when I passed them a ways back down the road.  The gun battle that followed took ten cops to put the guy down.  He had a bunch of guns in his front seat, and (WTF?!) was wearing body armor.  The reporters tracked down his license plate.  The truck was his mom's (he took it without her knowing it).  When interviewed, she said that he was upset at lefty politics and that he couldn't get a job.  Go figure!  He has a criminal record with two previous felony convictions.  The unemployment rate is only 9%.  How could he possibly have trouble finding a job?!

Since he was smart enough to be wearing a bullet-proof vest (WTF??!), the 91% of us who do have jobs are now paying his hospital bills and room and board. 

This morning I walked over to the gym.  It was dark when I left the house at 5:30.  I try not to go walking in the 'hood in the dark, but for the gym I'm making an exception.

I'm on my way home.  I see this older dude walking in my direction (I mean "dude" in the biker sense... longer white hair, stocky, worn in the face).  I'm debating on crossing the street, but decide he's really not a threat.  It's a nice morning, probably out to get a cup of coffee.  Apparently I misjudged.  Mr. Dude says "Hey buddy!" as he pushes, I mean pushes, at the front of my shoulder.  It was as if he was trying to start a fight.

I look directly at him. "Please don't touch me." "What do you need?"

"Where do you work?" he asks me.

"Why do you want to know that?" I ask.

"I'm looking for a job.  Where do you work?" 

I tell him where I work and that I'm sure they're not hiring.

He apparently doesn't understand me, and asks "Are you the po-leece?"

WTF?!?!!  I'm in my GYM CLOTHES.  It must be my charming face that gives me away...

I say no, I'm not a policeman, and that I need to be on my way.  I cross the street as he directs some pretty profanities my way.  I can still hear him muttering when I'm a good 200 feet away.  Obviously this man has larger issues than just needing a job.  Had he not been borderline insane I may have directed him to the Workforce Development organization downtown.  Instead, I should really call the police.  Oh wait... I can't.  He didn't have a knife or a gun.

Mexico (James) Vs. Argentina (Jess)

The World Cup game between Mexico and Argentina was on yesterday during our semiweekly swap meet extravaganza.  Every aisle had TVs and radios tuned in, and everyone I asked said Mexico was going to win.  It's too bad I'm not the betting type, because Mexico got spanked 3-1.

In retrospect, if our bargaining yesterday was a game, Jessica would be Argentina.  I didn't even have a fighting chance.

Starting out strong on our very first aisle, she spied an original Ronco Food Dehydrator in the original box.  'What on earth would she want with that,' you ask?  Healthy, chemical-free, dried, fresh fruit, vegetables, and jerky of course!  Our neighbor's plum tree has been exploding with fruit this month, so this was a pretty good idea.  Of course, the cost could easily sway the perception of just how good the idea was...  Now, how much would you pay?  $20?  $30?

The lady offered it for just one easy payment of five bucks.  SOLD!  At that price we could get our use out of it and then turn it around at our next garage sale for 10.  Kinda makes you feel sorry for the sucker who paid full price 20 years ago... Jessica 1, James 0.

(<------- Exhibiting my Ron Propeil trustworthy TV salesman face)


We headed up a nearby aisle to one of our usual hotspots.  Along the way she asked a guy about his post hole digger (for putting up a trellis in the garden).  $25?!  We passed on that one, and soon came upon another post hole digger, this one for 10 bucks...  'Will you take five?'  Jess asks.  'Sure.'  SOLD!  Another item for the garage sale.  GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAALLLLLL!  Jessica 2, James 0.

Along that same aisle, I spied a 20 pound CO2 cylinder.  'What would he want 20 pounds of Carbon dioxide for,' you ask?  Beer of course!  After bottling 5 batches of home brew, I decided to go easy on myself and start putting it in kegs.  CO2 pushes the beer out of the kegs.  (It doesn't hurt to have something to keep the beer cold in too, so I recently built a new toy...)

The "kegerator" already has a 5 pound CO2 tank in it, so I can resell this 20 lb CO2 tank on Craigslist for $100 and use the profit to help pay for the parts I needed for the project.    GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAALLL!!!!!  Jess 2, James 1.

Now, things were looking up, but nothing could prepare me for her next big find.  This one inadvertently brought about my absolute defeat. 

It was a six setting hand-painted matching stoneware service set from Mexico.  Three boxes, including two sets of plates, bowls, platters, a pitcher, a vase, cream and sugar bowls, gravy boat, glasses, cups, a soup tureen, service bowls...  you name it, it's there.  Do we need it?  No!!!  She's already got a 12 place setting Noritake china set she bought when she was 16!  We never use it!  But here's the kicker...  She asks the guy anyway, and he only wants $40 bucks.  $40 bucks!!!  She walks away to find me and chat about it, and he yells out to her 'OK, $35!'  $35 bucks!!!  The set we got for the wedding (and later returned because it turned out to be complete crap) cost about that much by the piece!

So I make her a deal.  She can have this set if it replaces the china.  She readily agrees, and I go talk to the guy a little more.  By this point we only have $30 bucks left.  He's not happy to drop- the price again, but he needs to get back to watching Mexico lose the soccer game.  And so, I helped her emerge victorious with our new set of dishes for $30 bucks, effectively kicking the proverbial ball into my own goal.
 

You see, had I not been haggling for plates, I could have come out ahead by a long shot.  On my last pass down an aisle I hadn't hit yet, I come across a bright red rowing shell, like the kind I used to race.  Mind you, when I bought mine it cost me $5500, used.  The cardboard sign on this one said "$2700, yours for $300."  The oars alone were worth at least the $300, and just as I'm ready to ask about them, I notice the word "SOLD" being written on the sign. DEFEATED!!!!! 


Final score: Jessica 3, James 1.
Damn plates...

"Pinch me! I'm still in California!"

Walking around the lake to our favorite local phở, pronounced "fah," place (which turns out to be Ahn Dao since Phở King, while notorious for its name, is a further walk to a slightly less safe part of town), we had another "pinch me I'm in California" moment.  We still seem to have a lot of those.  This was the first walk around the lake we'd made in a few months.  And then it hit us.  It's been over a year since the big move.

The day-to-day details (our jobs, cats puking all over the house, hanging out with the neighbors and catching the germs their kids bring home from daycare, visiting the ethnic markets, restaurants, and grocery stores) have become a blur, but we're noticing some trends in how we're managing our time.

My schedule isn't always in sync with Jess', so when I'm not working I keep myself busy with projects like selling things on Craigslist.  Some dude paid me $90 for a pair of scuba fins I bought at the Laney College flea market for 2 bucks (mind you, they sell for over $300 new but the guy who offered them to me for 2 bucks was obviously oblivious).

The swap meet has become a semi-regular weekly adventure, complete with a near-routine schedule and walking path through the aisles of tarps on the ground, neatly littered with old household stuff, gizmos and greasy tools, cheap socks and used clothes, and generic old junk, with the occasional "too-good-to-be-true-I-wish-I-had-somewhere-to-put-that" find.  I now have something of an inventory of crap to sell on craigslist, including no fewer than three fancy nylon kites and a couple hundred or so pieces of very nice grapevine wood.  Whatever's left in three weeks will be garage-saled. 

Speaking of garage sales...  In place of the Wine Bus idea, Wifey's been working on a professional organizing business concept.  It started a few years back when we got onto this "simple living" kick with a book called "Your Money or Your Life" which is featured in the documentary "Affluenza."  We started getting rid of stuff we didn't use, spending less money and time on "stuff" and more on "doing."  The move helped us pare down the "stuff" even more, and now our time spent "doing" is at an all-time high, and we're enjoying it immensely.  I sometimes find that the "doing" thing is more on my end than hers though.  If there's one thing Jess is good at (almost too good, really) it's relaxing (see Photo Exhibit A: "Day-old, Half-eaten Sandwich on Desk").

Photo Exhibit A: "Day-old, Half-eaten Sandwich on Desk"

My "doing" is a running joke with the neighbors.  Jason calls me "James the 'doer'" because I'm almost always working on something.  It could be that I don't get bogged down with three hours of commuting to San Jose like he does, but I digress.  I have noticed though that my "doing" is more for my entertainment than for the sake of actual productivity.  I do prefer to do things that have some kind of productive value, monetary or otherwise.  The swap meet, for example, is a diversion that has the potential to bring in some extra cash.  I even have thought about writing a book about the folks who I meet there, something of a photo documentary about how they make their livings on what other people would consider trash- it's really quite a statement on how we consume so blindly in this country.
 
I find the swap meet to be among the most interesting cultural experiences Oakland has to offer.  Is it because you can sometimes haggle with someone over the price of a set of drinking glasses because of their being displayed in such close proximity to jock strap? (see Photo Exhibit B, entitled "Would You Like a Cup or a Glass?")...  Or is it that I can practice my Spanish while hanging out with guys with names like Manuel, Panchito, Jesus, Memo, and Miguel Angel?  (Yes, I said Panchito.  That's him smiling on the right with some plantains)...  Jesus, the 15 year old who helps Panchito hock fruit every Sunday, seems to be inspired by my ability to habla the Español, as evidenced by our discussion about the benefit of studying Hmong over French (Hmong you ask?...  it's a language spoken in Vietnam, Laos, Thailand, and China.  Who knew?!...  I wish I could have taken Hmong in high school!).

It's nice to be living in such a culturally stimulating place, and we're loving every minute of it.

 Photo Exhibit B: "Would You Like a Cup or a Glass?"

The Franks Take on California!

This is definitely the year for visiting California- set up your month now! Not two weeks after Mike stopped by for a long weekend, we started preparing for a visit from Mom and Dad Frank (aka Bob and Eleanor). They came for a whole 10 days and we were able to take off 3 days during the week to hang out with them and drag them ALL OVER the place! Here is a runthrough of our adventures- Mom and Dad, we are SO GLAD you came and hopefully your feet have recovered!

Day 1- Mom and Dad arrive late on Saturday night but we all got up early on Sunday Morning and headed over to the Swap Meet. Mom and I moseyed around all of the crazy little stalls with jacked iphones, car stereo's, stuff that "fell off the truck" and I bought a huge chef's knife, a calculator, a replacement Pyrex baking dish (as mine seem to disappear) and 80 rolls of 100% recycled toilet paper. We'll never need toilet paper again- thank you Swap Meet. Meanwhile, James and Dad were looking over all the tools and found a keg tap. We had some ice cold water, a churro and some tasty trailmix and then headed over to Chinatown for lunch.

We sat down at one of our Vietnamese Phở noodle places and had a nice lunch. On the way over, in trying to find parking in Chinatown, which is always problematic, I saw that they were having some sort of street festival. It was Chinese New Year!! Everyone was selling tree blossoms and orchids left and right. We were in heaven! After lunch we walked through all the stalls and looked at all the beautiful flowers and got a taste of China with people bustling everywhere. The Chinese New Year is famous for firecrackers and red flowers and bamboo and there was certainly plenty!  We wore Mom and Dad out but then dragged them over to Jason and Tanya's (our neighbors) house for the Superbowl!  The superbowl is great here because it starts at 3pm instead of 6 so you aren't quite as exhausted as you'd normally be by the end of it and can still get to bed early!  We had a great time playing with the neighborhood babies and watching the commercials.  It was awesome- go Saints!

Day 2- Monday was our day for Monterey!  We started out around 9:30 and got there around lunchtime.  We ate first on Fisherman's Wharf where the guys try to compete for your patronage by giving out clam chowder.  You almost don't need to eat anywhere with the amount you end up "tasting."  We sat at a nice place overlooking the water where we could see the ducks and seals playing in the harbor.  We got a great pic of a pelican sitting on Mom's shoulder!  After lunch we headed over to the aquarium where we were just in time for the sea otter feeding time- they kept the shrimp they were fed under their arms, saving it for later!  They are so awesome!  We walked around the Deep Sea exhibit and then saw the sea-horses and by then it was 4pm and the aquarium closes early on weekdays in the winter so we took a drive out to Point Pinos to see the waves at sunset and see if we could get a look at some whales passing by- no whales, but it was a gorgeous sunset :-)  We had a long trek back to Oakland in the rain with Dad driving- he got us there in one piece but not without a few white hairs! We made a quick dinner and a beeline for the bed that day!

Day 3- Tuesday we got started with a hearty breakfast at Brown Sugar Cafe- helloooooo Chicken and Waffles!! YUM!  We had a nice leisurely breakfast and then took Mom and Dad up, up and up to the overlook behind Berkeley where you can see the entire middle and northern bay with the Golden Gate bridge.  It was pretty cool and a great clear day for it.  We toured Berkeley- shopped in a few of the shops and then grabbed some lunch at the Whole Foods by our house and took it to Lake Merritt to eat on the water.  It was a little chilly but felt good in the sun.  We showed Mom and Dad all of our ducks that are overwintering and we had a lovely time.  Then we headed over to what we admirably call the "Gross-Out" (Grocery Outlet) which may be our favorite place to shop, and introduced them to the joys of buying food at more than half the price.  It was awesome... as usual.  Then we dropped ourselves in our chairs, exhausted from another day.  Doc hung out with Mom while we all rested! 

Wednesday and Friday were working days for me and James, so Mom and Dad headed to San Francisco and Healdsburg to visit their other California buddies Susan and Gary and their daughter Sarah and hubby Mark and grandbaby Daisy.  We weren't too involved with that, but we heard they had an awesome time (not hard to do with that crew!)...

Day 5- Jelly Bellies, Wineries, and Castles- what a combo!

I created a plan for this day that I even mapped out- and it went pretty well.  We started out around 10am (Dad almost pooped out, we had worn him out the previous days so much-but we got him into the car and I think he had fun!)  Mom said that she wanted to go see the Jelly Belly factory and they have free tours, so we did it and it was pretty interesting.  James and I tried some really gross jelly beans that had funky flavors like "barf" or "centipede" or "booger" WHAT A MISTAKE.  We didn't expect them to really taste like that- all I have to say is- who volunteered for that project?  I sure as hell wouldn't want to taste all those things multiple times to get it "just right."  Gross.  After that, we needed to get the taste out of our mouths, so thankfully they were giving out free samples of chocolate walnut turtles in their chocolate department.  Yum.  As an aside- apparently, Ronald Reagan loved jelly beans and especially Jelly Bellies, because they had probably 15 different larger-than-life "pictures" of him made with jelly beans throughout the factory and a whole exhibit case dedicated just to him.  

(yup, 100% jelly bean Ronald Reagan profile)

Much more interesting than Ronald Reagan's jelly bean face was a back-up in the factory line- what a sight to see a zillion jelly beans fly everywhere across the floor-  every kid's dream.  It was awesome.  We left with our little packet of jelly bellies that they give you for taking the tour and believe me, that was enough.  

Then we headed up to Napa to see about a Public Market that I thought was going to be like an old-fashioned market where they have a cheese shop that got good reviews.  Well- it was like a new yuppie market and we just bought some bread and a $10 round of cheese and some cupcakes that we didn't end up eating until a few days later and weren't very good anyway.  But the cheese was tasty and it kept us going until we reached our next destination.  We headed up the Napa road to V. Sattui winery because some friends of ours said the picnic area was nice and the winery very pretty, so we stopped in there and Dad and I did a wine tasting and Mom got to try their special grape juice.  We bought some grape juice and one of their wines and decided that it was lunch time and we needed some tasty local beef!  We stopped at Taylor's Refresher- a great place we'd tried previously with Caitlin on another wine expedition.  It used to be a drive-in.  They had a big, enclosed, clear plastic tent up with picnic tables under it and it was oh-so-warm in there.  It wasn't cold in Napa, but it wasn't really warm either, so it felt good while we ate our grilled cheeses and patty melts and burgers.  

We then set out for the Frank Family Winery.  We thought it would be a Mom and Pop place but it turns out that the "Frank Family" is this guy Richard Frank who is a billionaire movie producer and made a bunch of really famous movies and needed a tax shelter so bought a vineyard.  The wine tasting was going to be $10 each for me and James but we got it for free thankfully because nothing stood out for us (James kept dumping his glass into the spittoon and freaking out the pourer guy).  Mom played the "I don't drink, but I would love to buy one of your wine glasses with the Frank Family Winery logo" and they gave us both glasses for free!  Woo!  Go Franks!  Then we headed over to the Castello di Amorosa because I keep hearing about it in all of my reading about Napa and Sonoma-  a real-life-totally-authentic-stone-from-Italy Castle.  But get this! They want $11 just to step in the place- your tasting is included but Mom doesn't drink- so we just took pics outside with the pet sheep and chickens they have and we moved on up to drive through Calistoga.  Calistoga is an old spa town- it looks a bit frontier-ish because it really has always been centered around the hot springs- they have their own "ole faithful" geyser too and they've kept the place looking pretty un-yuppy.  Its got a bunch of art studios and little shops and a few spas.  There were some restaurants there too that Mom and Dad explored with Susan and Gary on Friday.  By the end of the day, we were pooped and drove back the hour or so home, but what a beautiful drive! 

Day 6- James and I worked on Friday while Mom and Dad headed up to Healdsburg to visit Susan and Gary.  James and I got done with work around 4pm and started the long rush-hour-traffic slog to Santa Rosa to meet them at our favorite restaurant Flavor.  We had a lovely long meal there and talked and talked- it was as usual a great meal with great friends, plus we had them bring a piece of cake for mom's birthday.  It couldn't have been a nicer time.

Day 7- Farmer's Markets, Fish Tanks, and Fun New Relatives

Saturday was our last busy day before Mom and Dad flew home.  James had to take the Fish Tank out to a park early in the morning and stay for the day, so Mom and Dad and I had some breakfast and then headed out to the Lake Merritt Farmer's market.  We hit up this awesome Belgian waffle truck to keep us from buying too much food! Mom bought a beautiful yellow orchid that we packed up in a box for her to take home- the orchids here are amazing right now...  mom's is home in NY and still flowering.  We tasted all the free tastes and bought some kettle corn and greens and tried the Afghani "Bolani" from the guys that just keep pushing samples on you like crack-dealers.  Dad walked over to the bank while I walked over to Arizmendi to get pizza to take to feed James and all of us some lunch.  We drove the rental convertible over to the park where James was working and we had a nice picnic lunch on the trunk and James showed them his "pride and joy."  They packed up the tank and we packed up ourselves and headed home so Mom and Dad could get one last trip to Grocery Outlet for last minute souvenirs and pack before we went over to Mom's first cousin Debbie's house for dinner.  Debbie and Steve live over in Atherton, near Palo Alto and Stanford so Mom and Dad got to cross another of the Bay Bridges and we wound through the beautiful neighborhoods to Debbie and Steve's gorgeous house!  Steve works as a venture-capitalist and was involved in starting Travelocity and many other successful ventures.  They have three teenage boys, three dogs and have lots of pictures of them and all of the cool places they have been in big photo montages around the house- exactly what I would do if I had a photographic eye and a big beautiful house!  We had a wonderful dinner and caught up on all of the family news and learned more about each other.  It was a great end to Mom and Dad's stay!   

Mikey Visits Cali...

As his Christmahanakwanzadanstice gift we flew my brother out here with one of Jess' frequent flyer tickets for the event. I had to work the show with the fish tank on wheels anyway, so it was a no-brainer to have Mikey there. Besides, we hadn't seen eachother since.... hmmmm... I don't even remember when.

From the airport I took him directly to La Piñata (it's the first restaurant I found on my trip out here for my interview last year). After breaking his Atikins diet with burritos and chips, we headed to the Swap Meet for some authentic Oakland culture. The find of the day was a full propane tank for 20 bucks. Jess had suggested getting one for the earthquake survival kit, so I brought it home.

Mike was impressed by the fruit and veggie stands, which are always loaded with super cool Central and South-American specialties (tomatillo, sugar cane, chayote)... so we took some photos for him to use for teaching vocab to his Spanish classes.

But if he was impressed with the Swap Meet, what would he think of Chinatown?

Live fish markets? Check!

Tea with tapioca balls in it? CHECK!

Chinatown is a dream come true for us lovers of all things different and cultural. Of course he was so excited that I had to take photos for him of the fish markets, and the dried shark fins (on a quite disturbing and related note, later during Mike's visit I overheard a woman from Kentucky on a city tour with us bragging to her mom about the shark fin soup she'd recently had at a place in the City. I was saddened that someone from the good ol' USA was not aware of or perhaps not concerned with the problem with slicing the fins off a shark and leaving it for dead... the shark fin photo really is disturbing to me, and I'm sure they would have kicked us out if they'd seen me taking the picture. If you click it and see it full size, you can see the prices. We saw some that were nearly DOUBLE these prices, and thus the reason this is such a huge problem)...

The next morning I got started on a batch of IPA I'd been meaning to brew. It was Mike's first time brewing at all, and my first time doing beer on my own.

Before heading to the Expo, we stopped at the Oakland farmers market. Again, Mike was mystified. I took him to the Bolani guys, and they just kept forcing samples on us. Usually there are enough people around that you don't feel guilty about it, but this time I decided it was worth the $20 bucks to get some food for later on. Meanwhile we also picked up some oranges and a Jerusalem artichoke (it's a root veggie that tastes similar to an artichoke, just without the thistles).

The Expo was pretty cool. I had a lot of work to do, but Mike helped me and my staff for a few minutes with setting up, and then he was off to explore.

When we got home that night, Jess and I planned to take him to Petar's to see Diamond Dave (refer to November Visitors Part Deux). We quite literally dragged Mike along with us. He was so tired we had to put him to sleep in the car while we got our groove on. He slept in the next day when I went to work, and enjoyed a trip to the Lake Merritt farmers market with Jess before they both came out to San Mateo for the Expo again.

Mike got his revenge on me Saturday night, when after the longest day of the three-day Expo he and Jess and our friend Jason dragged me to see Avatar. I was shocked that I was able to stay awake for the whole thing. If it hadn't been for the visuals I definitely would have slept through it. What a crap plot! It's like A Man Called Horse, Dances With Wolves, and every other movie about the plight of native peoples, only with bright colors and insane CG effects. The 3-D helps a lot too.

Sunday we finished up the show. I don't know why Mike was so surprised the day before when he made the finals for the Best of the West fly casting competition. He's been fly fishing so long that he's starting to have serious problems with his casting arm. At the finals on Sunday he hit the hardest cast, and everyone there applauded. Heads turned. It was pretty darn cool.

When we ended the day, we had a bit of time to kill until the tank could be moved. We spent it helping the guys at the neighboring fishing pool break down their setup, which meant wrangling and separating their trout and channel catfish. I was the only person there with boots, and I hopped in and got to business. I ended up soaked (you can see why below)...

We got home late and grilled a catfish from our wrangling to go with some veggies Jess had cooked. I felt it was only fair that I should eat a catfish after having busted my @$$ and even gotten my finger chomped on by one in the process...

Monday we took a tour of San Francisco and Muir Woods. Jess has been looking into starting a similar kind of business, so it was a good way to explore and do some market research.

We had a great time around the city. In Muir Woods Jess tried to communicate with the trees and ferns with her Avatar hair braids....

Later, we went to Golden Gate Park to check out a casting pond that's apparently one of the oldest (if not THE oldest) fly casting clubs in the country. After playing there for a while, we went to find some food, which ended up being pho (VERY tasty Vietnamese soup), and then checked out what turned out to be the best pet shop I've found out here yet, before heading down to the beach to touch the Pacific ocean.

Tuesday the ocean theme continued with a drive down to Monterey Bay. We enjoyed a walk along the water before running through the Aquarium. Jess recently signed us up for a family membership, so we get to go whenever we want and we can take guests too. We had dinner at the wharf, and then drove home to call it a day.

Mike hopped a plane the next morning. It was a whirlwind tour, and he still has lots more to see and do next time he comes to visit!