May 2003 Archives

What have I been doing this weekend?

I did absolutely nothing and it was everything that I thought it could be.

I might have seen Office Space to get reacquainted with one of my favorite movies. In between that and doing nothing, I've been enjoying the sun, shopping and packing for a trip that I will be taking in about four hours.

I don't want to reveal where I'm headed until I get back, but what I can say is that I'm extremely excited. The nervous energy and anticipation have been building up over the last couple of days. This will be my first visit and there is so much I want to see and experience. I have this indescribable feeling, almost a premonition, that this trip will impact my life. I'm sure I'll reread that sentence someday and wonder what I was thinking. Perhaps it will be a self-fulfilling prophecy.

If everything goes well, I will be back and posting again soon. Until then, enjoy the silence.

The past twelve months must have been my quietest year. Living on my own, in a quiet little town, has given me the most solitude I've ever experienced. There are times when I don't even realize how long I've been silent until I attempt to speak. The first few words sound slurred and strange as my tongue loosens up and I clear my raspy voice.

Come to think of it, I haven't said anything for about twelve hours now and haven't really had the nagging urge to talk with anybody else. That doesn't seem right.

I'll be heading to work in a few minutes and will be making a quick coffee stop. What will the first words out of my mouth be this morning? Let's hope it's not something profound like, "Uh..."

With Memorial Day coming this Monday, I expect the office will be deserted today. Everybody is getting a jump on the weekend as they head to campgrounds, Las Vegas or maybe Disneyland! The local news was just reporting that 8 out of every 10 traveling Californians will be driving to their destination. I'm guessing that means the other two will either be flying or possibly swimming.

So the office should be nice and peaceful, giving me time to clean up my desk and wrap up a few loose ends. I have the next eleven days off from work. It all begins in about nine hours and I can't wait!

I arrived at the Fremont train station at 5:30 on a cold Sunday morning, anticipating a large crowd that never materialized. The train came on time and was soon heading to the Embarcadero station in San Francisco. In Hayward, two people dressed as hamburger and fries boarded.

As I emerged from the underground station on Market Street, the sight of towering skyscrapers reminded me why I love San Francisco. Then while I ate a bagel for "breakfast", an odd woman approached me and said, "I hope you are well-hydrated. Six ounces every twenty minutes. Breathe in through the nose, out through the mouth. Heel toe, heel toe. Good luck." I thanked her and she simply walked over and sat on a bench in Justin Herman Plaza.

At the corner of Spear and Howard, where a large crowd was already gathering, tortillas and beach balls flew through the air. I spotted a guy dressed as pizza conversing with the hamburger and fries. The lady next to me suddenly gasped, tugged at her friend's sleeve and pointed at an old man wearing a bright yellow cap and nothing else. Behind me, I glimpsed the perfect party float. It was a six by ten foot hut with beer on tap, music and around a dozen guys in Hawaiian shirts and hula skirts.

Before the San Francisco Giants had the great Jeff Kent, they had another solid second baseman named Robby Thompson. Unlike Kent, whose strength was the bat, Thompson's strength was the glove. He was the crucial pivot man between Jose Uribe and Will Clark in turning double plays and a clubhouse leader with an optimistic outlook.

Realistically, he will probably never make it into the Hall of Fame, but I will remember him for three reasons:

1. He was one of the first professional baseball players I ever met. I was thirteen years old and one of many kids who received his autographed photo.
2. He always seemed to be the potential last out of many games. I remember more times than not, he would freeze at the plate, with a two strike count, and watch the third strike sail by while his bat remained poised to swing. It was an awful way to end a game.
3. In 1993, he was hit in the face by a pitch that fractured his left cheekbone. Despite the severe injury, it was his best year in the majors. Unfortunately, it was also his last full season. He would retire three years later, at the age of 34, having spent all 11 years of his major league career with the Giants.

He is an example of who I hope and fear I am. Hopefully, I'm someone who exhibits optimism and dependability. At the same time, I fear I'm the guy who gets caught looking at the plate, unable to swing at a perfectly good pitch.

I walk into Cafe Nono's, about to order a latte, when my taste buds suddenly stop me. They're eager for something else. I scan the menu painted on the wall and spot an item that produces a silly question... "What is an Almond Joy?"

The young guy behind the counter gives me a strange look and replies, "It's a candy bar."

I'm suddenly feeling stupid. I know it's a candy bar, one of my undeniable favorites. It wasn't the right question and I quickly rephrase, "I mean, what does the drink taste like?" Yeah, that was so much better.

"It's a mocha drink with two espresso shots, a couple of syrups, including coconut, and whip cream. It tastes almost exactly like the candy bar."

Even with a poor question, I get the answer I was seeking. As soon as my taste buds comprehend the response, they are instructing my brain to order a double tall Almond Joy.

The first sip is the most rewarding, while it's still hot. It tastes unmistakably like the candy bar, absolutely delicious. I drink it slowly, savoring every drop, and frown a little when I finish it at the steps of the office. I have a new favorite and my morning is made.

I've been in slow motion this entire morning. My brain and legs are aching. The coffee machine is acting up, so my system is lacking the proper coffee level to function. Before I go roaming for an espresso, here is this weekend's dozen.

1. Dare: Go two days without coffee
2. Liked The Matrix: Reloaded
3. Enjoyed Two Weeks Notice
4. Loved Spirited Away
5. I survived the Bay to Breakers (barely)
6. Clever costumes, flying tortillas and naked runners
7. Time taken to run 7.5 miles: 1 hour, 19 minutes
8. Time taken for return bus ride: 45 minutes
9. Time taken by 3-time winner, James Koskei: 35 minutes
10. The Bachelor proposes to the right girl
11. Grass pollen is evil
12. So is caffeine withdrawal

I wrote this on yesterday's ride home. I was tired and grouchy.

The beautiful thing about people with cell phones on the train is being able to hear every single thing they say, whether I want to or not. I've tried a number of unsuccessful techniques to block them out, like:

1. closing my eyes and sleeping
2. immersing myself in a book
3. plugging my ears and singing Uncle Kracker's cover of "Drift Away" to myself

Oh, give me the beat, boys, and free my soul
I want to get lost in your rock and roll
And drift away

This became exceedingly difficult as folks attempted to talk over the train's rumble and I forgot the rest of the song. I surrender. Since they're here and I'm not going anywhere, I might as well write about it.

From the moment I sat down, a businessman has been speaking loudly into the back of my head. He's not happy with John, who apparently gave a prospective client overly conservative specifications. The entire deal may be lost. From the sounds of it, John won't be having fun tomorrow.

Meanwhile, the guy in front of me will miss dinner on Saturday because his friend from Dallas is visiting and needs to be picked up from the airport. I'm tempted to remind him to get there early. Traffic around the airport can be horrendous.

For the girl across the aisle, the train is simply moving too slow. She seems to dismiss every suggestion with a sarcastic "Ookay!" She also can't understand why the party must be this Saturday. Everybody knows she has an early tee time on Sunday.

Another woman is pointedly telling someone (from her tone, it must be her husband) they can't afford to let his sister mooch off of them any longer. The sister has no job, wants them to buy her a car and watches too much Dr. Phil. Of course, by definition, any Phil is too much Phil.

Oh, thank goodness, my stop has arrived.

"You might be curious as to why I'm taking an interest in your future. It's because you have a future."

Such sentiments motivate and energize me, especially when they are expressed by someone I admire and consider a mentor. On my more optimistic days, they reaffirm the faith I have in my own competencies and abilities. They serve as both an ego boost and an ego check.

On my more pessimistic days, the words worry me. They have the unusual weight of expectations. I question how this person can have more confidence in me than I have in myself. Why can't I always see this potential?

The concern about potential has been on my mind for some time. Will I know when I've peaked? Am I in my prime right now or has it already past? There is no colorful bell-shaped graph to show where I am on the curve. It's never that simple.

Some time ago, I remember reading that the average major league baseball player peaks at the age of 27. Past that age, most players see a decline in their strength, speed, agility or overall performance. The analysts were able to draw such conclusions from a wealth of baseball records and statistical data. I just wish they could give the peak age of the average me.

Song on my mind... "The Scientist" by Coldplay

Nobody said it was easy
Oh it's such a shame for us to part
Nobody said it was easy
No one ever said it would be so hard
I'm going back to the start

Random bits...

The day has been cluttered with meetings. Everything has been so out of control, I'm having lunch in the middle of the afternoon. When I say lunch, I mean a curry-chutney chicken salad, two bagels and two bananas. My snack drawer is running low.

The valley has been so warm the last few days, but this morning was overcast with some drizzles. Perfect jacket weather.

The Bay to Breakers is only a few days away. Transportation to the city is the big question this year. I'm considering driving up the other side of the bay to use BART. The first train departs at 6:00 AM, which just seems excessively early.

The Matrix: Reloaded is only a few hours away. The closest theater will have one showing at 10:00 PM. Am I willing to stand in line with everybody and their brother to see the film tonight? We'll see. I just hope the movie doesn't suffer from a bad case of overhypothermia.

The May Day Project took place on May 10th. The purpose was for people to chronicle their day in photographs. I posted my photos for viewing. Umm... have fun.

On Friday, it didn't take very long to reach Stanford University. I've been there perhaps three times in my life. I'm always amazed by the size of the campus. Driving or biking seem like the only two reasonable methods for getting around campus, not counting helicopter.

Since I arrived so early, I bought a concert ticket and then visited the Stanford Coffee House in Tressider Union. It was moderately busy with people chatting, studying or singing karaoke. I ordered a hazelnut latte and enjoyed a bag of Skittles (dessert, not dinner).

I began thinking about how much I would have enjoyed the cafe, if I had attended Stanford. My alma mater didn't have anywhere comparable, nowhere so lively. I then began thinking about all of the other things the university had that mine lacked. It was an unhealthy thing to do, but I was unable to put my mind on anything else.

In an instant, a single contemplation became a whirlwind of doubts and questions. If I had studied here, where would I be today? Would my life be better or would it only be different? Would I be more successful? Would I be happier?

While sitting there, listening to two guys mangle "Total Eclipse of the Heart", I became increasingly depressed. My imagination painted such a rosy picture of an alternate Stanford-educated life. But somewhere inside, a voice reminded me that this was a self-defeating exercise. Nothing good could come from it. I was losing perspective by focusing on everything I might have missed, ignoring everything I had: the lessons learned, friendships made and opportunities received. I was also forgetting about the small issue of tuition.

I should have seen that my regrets and imagination were leading me astray. But regrets can be powerfully deceptive when they stem from a deeper dissatisfaction. By blaming the past for my present discontent, I was avoiding responsibility and not facing my anxieties. This was a truth I had managed to forget.

A jolting rendition of U2's "With or Without You" brought me back to the reality of the coffee house. I finished my latte and looked at my watch. The concert was ten minutes away. I sighed deeply and headed for the auditorium.

It seems that I have another busy day ahead, which balances out the slow and enjoyable weekend. Until I have more time to write, here is a summary...

1. Stanford Taiko Spring Concert 2003
2. "Comparing will only bring you sadness."
3. Started the May Day Project
4. Parental visit on a Saturday morning
5. A brief stint with allergies
6. Weekend traffic jams are fun, really.
7. Forgot the camera in the car, so ends the project.
8. Mixed seafood and vermicelli in saday sauce
9. A Mother's Day brunch at Flames
10. Lazy reading on a beautiful Sunday afternoon
11. "Concierto de Aranjuez" by Joaquin Rodrigo
12. Good golly, the tribe spoke for a sixth time.

I'm sure he had planned it out well in advance. He had an entire banner made. It just took me by surprise to see a guy on the roof next door. I happened to have my camera with me, so I spontaneously took a picture of him. I normally would have shut the blinds or dove for the floor to avoid being seen, but paralysis rational thought prevented me.

It's such a beautiful Friday. Only a few clouds occupy the blue sky, a sunny respite from the rain. I want to be outside right now. If I could drag this entire computer across the bridge and down to a bench along the creek trail, I would. There, I could get some work done like a responsible adult, while enjoying the outdoors.

The word spontaneity has been on my mind since last night. For the most part, I'm not very spontaneous and that seems wrong. Admittedly, some parts of my day or my life feign spontaneity, but it's really just poor planning.

I mention this because there was a good chunk of yesterday when I wasn't even thinking about plans for Friday. Had I read Dardy's entry about Stanford Taiko a month ago, I probably would have thought it was cool (especially the red odaiko photo) and moved on. But most recently, my interest in taiko has grown and the entry triggered a spontaneous urge to attend their spring concert tonight. After a moment of internal debate, I decided to act on the urge. So after work and a quick dinner, I'm heading up to Palo Alto for some fun (if I don't get lost).

I'm looking out my window again and reading the banner the guy put up. It reads:

FREE Lunch on Friday's Noon - 1pm Come Over & Hear about the Real Estate and Refi Market or discuss a Real Estate oportunity

Spelling mistakes in large public spaces always look ten times worse. I wonder if he'll be out there later with a big black permanent marker to correct it.

1. was born in Hong Kong and raised by her grandmother.
2. came to America, to live with her parents, when she was 11.
3. was given a speech therapist in school to help her speak English without an accent.
4. is left-handed, but was taught to eat and write with her right hand.
5. grew up in Santa Cruz, California.
6. worked in her parents' grocery store while attending high school.
7. stayed at home to raise my sister and me.
8. is a wonderful artist, but hasn't painted in many years.
9. played the guitar and ukulele when she was younger.
10. is a perfectionist and tends to worry too much.
11. is the glue that keeps our family together.
12. insists on biweekly family dinners at our regular Chinese restaurant.
13. always orders tofu fa when we have dim sum.
14. is the most talkative one in our family.
15. knows everything about the neighbors, postal worker, grocer, car mechanic and others.
16. likes to keep things clean and orderly because of her allergies.
17. buys gifts and cards months in advance and then forgets where she hid them.
18. loves taking photos and has more photo albums than I can count.
19. loves television. Ironically, she falls asleep during the shows and wakes up for the commercials.
20. loves to watch figure skating, but only if she knows the results ahead of time.

I'm slumped here in this chair and not likely to move for a while. Tonight, I spent an hour at the gym doing a total body workout. Why did I agree to it? I'm clueless, that's why.

This is what happens when someone suggests spicing up my routine. Instead of focusing on one or two muscle groups, like the chest and triceps, I hit all of the major groups in one session. Translated into practical terms, this means that instead of only one or two body parts aching, everywhere aches. I'm such an idiot.

I would be reading right now, but books seem too heavy. Even if I was able to prop up a book, I would probably be asleep by the seventh sentence. The only reason why I'm typing is because I still have movement in two fingers and a thumb. I'll be stopping once my thumb is too tired to hit the spacebar.

Right now, my body doesn’t like me and I don't blame it. I usually feel worse the day after, so tomorrow should be a real joy. Okay, I'm going to bed now.

In the event of something happening to me
There is something I would like you all to see
It's just a photograph of someone that I knew

Have you seen my wife, Mr. Jones?
Do you know what it's like on the outside?
Don't go talking too loud, you'll cause a landslide, Mr. Jones.

1. "New York Mining Disaster 1941"
2. "How Deep Is Your Love"
3. "I Can't See Nobody"
4. "I Started A Joke"
5. "Massachusetts"

Last night, I was happy to discover that the kids on American Idol would be singing hits from the Bee Gees, a group I came to appreciate after watching their PBS special a few years back. They can be overly sentimental, but I love their songwriting. They also happen to be one of my sister's favorite groups. (She has four eclectic favorites and maybe I'll list them someday, but back to the subject...)

Robin Gibb was there to help "judge". I'm still waiting for a guest judge to be more critical or even lambaste somebody. "You ruined my song! That was the worst rendition I've ever heard! Worse than William Shatner!" Telling everybody that they are brilliant, when some of them obviously aren't, doesn't help anybody.

Clay's "dance" moves made me shudder and wish he had sung "To Love Somebody" again. It was the song of the night. To later hear Josh's contrasting country version of the same song only reinforced the feeling that he should be going home tonight. Kimberley was there, but not spectacular. After the music drowned him out the first time, Ruben returned with a fine performance of "How Do You Mend A Broken Heart".

Yeah, I pay way too much attention to the show. But I figure that this entry will amuse me someday, when I want to revisit these simpler and more innocent times.

Yesterday, we took a site visit to one of our future projects in Alviso, a tiny waterfront community of San Jose. The town was annexed in 1968, by a vote of 189 to 180. Now with a population of over 2,000, the neighborhood is still ferociously protective of its history and identity.

It is home to the Edwards San Francisco Bay National Wildlife Refuge and the tranquil Alviso Slough Trail, which is part of the San Francisco Bay Trail. I have only hiked small portions of it, a fact I hope to change soon.

Sitting below sea level on the southern tip of the San Francisco Bay, Alviso is prone to flooding. It has never really recovered from the major floods of 1982 and 1983. One of the major reasons for our visit was to see how high other structures had been raised to mitigate flood damage. Whatever we build will need to be seven to nine feet above grade, a costly but necessary measure, if it is to survive the next big flood.

I wasn't very happy with my memory this morning. It conveniently "forgot" the conversation E and I had on Friday, the one where she told me she wouldn't return until tomorrow. I went about my morning routine, looking forward to finding out how her weekend went. Thinking back on it now, I'm amazed at my level of anticipation.

It wasn't until I reached the building when my memory suddenly "remembered" that she was off today. That quickly erased the smile from my face. My hopes had been stood up. I sighed and tried to look on the bright side. At least I had something to look forward to tomorrow.

Yesterday, I skipped the Cinco De Mayo celebration and opted for the 26th Annual Nikkei Matsuri in San Jose's Japantown. It was overcast, but only sprinkled once, which was fortunate since I forgot to bring a cap or umbrella. I was really with it.

This festival had many art and crafts booths, bonsai and flower displays and performances on indoor and outdoor stages. There was a food court where I tried a little spam musubi, which I'll describe as fried spam between two layers of rice wrapped in seaweed. I had never experienced spam quite that way before.

When I got there, the farmers' market was just closing. Japantown has one every Sunday morning, rain or shine. The crowd during lunch was huge. It shrank for a little while, but then grew again for the festival's finale, another great performance by San Jose Taiko.

Rainy days can be good movie days. I made it to the morning matinee of X2 as the previews were in progress. One of them was for The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, starring Sean Connery, whose character I mistook for an older Indiana Jones.

The sequel was a definite improvement over the first one. The writing was better (if that's saying much), but the main attraction was the action sequences and special effects. The movie introduced a few new mutants (new to the film, not the comic book) and hinted at a few other ones (hidden treasure for the savvy).

Kelly Hu played Yuriko Oyama, a mutant whose abilities seemed to be cracking her knuckles and looking good. She had three or four lines in the entire film. Her true powers were eventually revealed during a fight sequence that made me wince... repeatedly.

The best addition had to be Alan Cumming, who played Kurt Wagner, a.k.a. Nightcrawler, an acrobatic mutant with the ability to teleport practically anywhere. His action scenes at the beginning of the movie were spectacular and very smoky.

Just beyond the halfway point, one could already catch a whiff of X3. Of course, as soon as I think about third installments, The Lord of the Rings comes to mind. Can it get here already?

I always have such a tough time choosing songs. This may explain why a Friday Five is showing up on a Saturday. Ask me again tomorrow and I'll have different answers. Here we go...

1. Name one song you hate to admit you like.
"Irresistible" - The Corrs

2. Name two songs that always make you cry.
Okay, not cry exactly, but sadden me.
"Bright Eyes" - Simon and Garfunkel (remember Watership Down?)
"The World I Know" - Collective Soul

3. Name three songs that turn you on.
"Carry Me Close" - The Basics
"Sweet Surrender" - Sarah McLachlan
"When You Say Nothing At All" - Ronan Keating

4. Name four songs that always make you feel good.
"Fernando" - ABBA
"Dreams" - The Cranberries
"Good Vibrations" - The Beach Boys
"Lazy Days" - Enya

5. Name five songs you couldn't ever do without.
"In My Life" - The Beatles
"Only Happy When It Rains" - Garbage
"Undone" - Weezer
"Misirlou" - Dick Dale & His Del-Tones
"Last Beautiful Girl" - Matchbox Twenty

When I called my mom last night, the first words out her mouth were, "So were you shocked?! We were so shocked! I couldn't believe it! Did you see it?!" It took me a second to figure out what she was talking about. Was it about world politics or current events? No, it was about American Idol.

If I like the show, she and the rest of my family love it and many other shows. Part of the reason I watch is so that I'm not entirely clueless during family dinner conversations. I have my parents' love of television to thank for the unhealthy amount of TV trivia I still retain from my youth. Not that there's anything wrong with that.

This morning has been absolutely hectic. I got to work early and it has literally been nonstop up to this very moment. I would rant endlessly, but I'll just say that last-minute preparations for Friday afternoon meetings can be stressful. It's done now, thank goodness. I can enjoy my lunch and think of things to write about as I eat.

In baseball, rain delays are pretty common, but I've never heard of a fog delay. Yesterday, the Oakland Athletics played in Chicago against the White Sox. The game had to be delayed twice. One run scored because of a fly ball, lost in the fog, that fell for a triple. It must have been a pretty comical scene...

Heavy fog has rolled into the park and the visibility is horrible. The pitcher fires the baseball in the general direction of home plate. The batter hears the screaming seams of the fastball and blindly swings away as the umpire asks, "Strike?"

The outfielders react to the crack of the bat. Looking up in the sky, the right fielder runs forward and suddenly stops.

Right Fielder: Do you see it?
Center Fielder: Huh? Who said that? Lee, is that you?
Lee: No, I'm right here.

The hitter rounds what he thinks is first base. Random fans try to help the fielders with shouts of "Over there!", "To your right!", "Behind you!" and "Hey, watch where you point that finger!" Looking around wildly, the right fielder shouts, "I don't see it! Cripes! I don't see the ball!"

On the base path, the hitter trips over second base and makes an abrupt left turn. The center fielder puts his glove up to his ear and says, "Wait! I think I hear something." Dropping behind both outfielders, the ball skitters and bounces off the wall.

Ball: Plipt-pit-pit-pit-pit... whump!
Center Fielder: Oh, there it is.

The right fielder grabs the ball and throws it back to the infield or at least away from the fence. Unsure of what's going on, the runner makes a hard slide into third.

Third Baseman: That's not third, that's my foot.
Runner: Sorry, my bad. Where's the base again?

Song on my mind... "You Were Right" by Badly Drawn Boy

And songs are never quite the answer
Just a soundtrack to a life
That is over all too soon
Helps to turn the days to night
While I was wrong and you were right

As I drove to work, I was listening to KSCU, a college radio station that comes into range on the outskirts of San Jose. It's a nice alternative to the commercial-filled, chatter-heavy morning shows. Along the way, they played the song by Badly Drawn Boy. While I've heard of him, I must confess that I didn't really notice him, until I saw Nick Hornby's About A Boy. Now I'm rather interested in listening to one of his albums.

A quick observation... I'm developing the unshakably bad habit of hitting the snooze button one too many times, gaining an entire seven minutes more of sleep in the morning. I really need to ask myself if those extra seconds are worth a missed train. Hopefully, the bed will see me seven minutes earlier tonight.