Yesterday while waiting at the bus stop after work, I checked my phone and saw that my dad had called a few hours prior. So I called him back to see what was up. “Oh hi, Staf, I’m just driving home right now, I’m in my car...Listen, do you remember the name of the old shortstop for the Cleveland Indians?” I told him it was Omar Vizquel (my favorite baseball player). “Ohhhh yeah! Omar!” he exclaimed. “How could I forget Omar!” So... I guess that’s why he called?
We continued to chat, since my dad is particularly chatty on the phone while driving in his car. We talked politics. He expressed his lament that he was tied up with work and could not travel to Ohio to canvas. He also went off about Republicans. Since he was using his cheap $5 hands-free wireless device, I could not catch everything he was saying, but did not want to cut him off. Then he asked about work, and then launched into a very long point about how Freud says life is all about love and work, and how to reconcile our material needs with our spiritual needs... It was a very interesting topic, but (a) I could not hear him very well, and (b) he talked for about 15 minutes straight. By then I was already on the bus, and people overhearing my conversation probably only heard me say “Uh huh... Uh huh... Yeah... Uh huh... Ha ha... Yeah...” Finally I had to cut him off. I asked him if he was still driving. “Ahhhh no, I’m home now, just sitting in my car in the garage, talking to you...”
I heart my dad.
Friday, September 26, 2008
i hella <3 oakland
On Wednesday I attended a free totebag-making workshop at Rock Paper Scissors, a volunteer-run art collective in my new town. It was my first time using a sewing machine. (Actually, one time I made a fleece scarf with Peetie back in college...it turned out pretty nice but she did most of the sewing while I just sat there in awe.) So anyway, my roomie gave me an old Oakland shirt and for the lining I used a shirt I got at a thrift store in Chicago many years ago. It turned out better than I expected and it was so much fun using a sewing machine!
just wanted to share
Today I am wearing these lovely earrings made by the talented Michelle.
Thanks, crafty friend!
Thanks, crafty friend!
Thursday, September 25, 2008
Mesmerizing
Last night I saw Jose Gonzalez at Yoshi’s in Oakland. Second time seeing Jose, first time at Yoshi’s. It was wonderful. The sound was amazing. Definitely want to go back again.
Overall I like Jose Gonzalez but I think I prefer when he sings other people’s songs. Not that his own songwriting is bad, but it’s just not for me. Even I can only handle so much mellowness and minor chord progression. Nonetheless, it was a great show with some magical moments. I especially liked “Heartbeats,” “Hand on your Heart,” and a couple new ones (don’t know what they’re called).
We apparently were sitting in front of the rowdiest member of the audience, who would yell “Fuck yeah, Jose!!!” and “Gracias!!!” after songs that he particularly enjoyed. I, too, enjoyed particular songs and felt pretty enthusiastic about them, but not enough to yell or curse. The vibe/atmosphere was so chill and quiet that I just clapped languidly like everybody else. So I was grateful for the loud guy sitting behind me.
Anyway, I love this song and this video in particular. If I ever move out of the Bay Area, I can watch this and feel sad and nostalgic.
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
just trying to mind my own b
Today I sat in Washington Square Park during my lunch break. It was a warm, sunny afternoon, so naturally there were people lying out on the grass, sunbathing. I was in a state of repose, enjoying the scenery and the beautiful weather. But then, I kid you not, I watched as a woman, probably in her 50s or 60s, took off her shirt and sat there completely topless for a moment before putting on a tank top. At first I thought, hmm is that just a man with really large man-boobs? And then for a split second I thought, ah that is normal, it’s like we are at the Korean sauna or at a topless beach in Europe. And then I thought, wait, am I hallucinating? But then finally I realized, wait a minute, I’m at an outdoor park in the middle of the afternoon in broad daylight. Nonetheless, nobody else in the park seemed phased by the recent casual display of nudity. I looked around — there was a homeless guy taking a nap on the grass, a guy with a ponytail doing yoga, a few elderly Chinese women feeding birds, and another guy sitting on a bench while playing the accordion. Is it just me or does Washington Square Park feel surreal sometimes? But I guess that’s San Francisco for you.
Nevada for Obama
The other day a friend showed me the electoral map and convinced me that I would be doing an important service to my country if I volunteered for Obama in Nevada. So I signed up for one weekend in October. I told my dad last night that I was going to Nevada, and he got so excited. He said that I would be representing the whole Rue clan. I think the last time he sounded that proud of me was when I was randomly interviewed on TV about state budget cuts and I told the newscaster that I’m a Democrat and that we should be taxing the rich. I don’t even know if I believe that’s true, but hey, at least I won my dad’s affirmation.
Anybody else want to go to Nevada?
Step Up 2: Best Movie Ever
This weekend I also watched Step Up 2: the Streets, and although I am embarrassed to admit it, it was...AWESOME. It kind of falls in the same category of Movies I Love and Wish I Owned But Am Too Ashamed To Admit It (other movies in this category include Don’t Tell Mom the Babysitter’s Dead, 13 Going on 30, She’s the Man, etc.). The plot is incredibly cheesy and predictable, complete with “unlikely” romance, underdog overcoming the odds, and climactic dance-off at the end. It’s a winning formula! Never mind that it got a 24% on Rotten Tomatoes. If you haven’t seen Step Up 2 yet, don’t be ashamed! Do yourself a favor and check it out.
Another "First"
This past weekend I went and got my first manicure and pedicure. It was quite an experience. I felt so pampered, sitting in a massage chair with a lady cleaning one hand, a guy massaging my other hand, and another lady buffing my feet. I got a french manicure, which I guess is supposed to be fancy. The idea was to have nice nails for Sarott’s wedding next weekend. However, I did not think about all of the activities I would be doing from now until the wedding, and how many opportunities there would be to chip my nails. Activities such as buttoning a shirt or opening a car door. As a low maintenance person this constant attention to my nails has proven to be quite troublesome and annoying. For instance, just now I used my nails to peel open a banana, and somehow managed to chip my thumbnail in the process. Argh!
Friday, September 19, 2008
an important day in history
Today is International Talk Like A Pirate Day. In honor of this occasion, I took five minutes out of my extremely busy day to browse through The Pirate Life: Unleashing Your Inner Buccaneer on amazon.com. I think you should do the same.
image by The Trust for Public Land.
Incidentally, it is also Parking Day. I wish I had my camera to capture some of these strange and surreal mini-parks, located at various parking spots throughout the Bay Area.
Thursday, September 18, 2008
getting out my teen angst
Last night was the first annual Lower San Antonio Stanford Alumni Association meeting, held at the Trappist, a cute little Belgian bar in downtown oakoak. It was an exciting evening for three reasons:
- I got to catch up with fellow ‘04 Stanfordians living in the East Bay
- I enjoyed a deliciously light, wheaty Belgian beer
- and...I had my first ever cigarette.
So, for the longest time I thought it was the coolest thing to smoke. Sometimes it just seemed like the perfect accessory to hold in your hand, like a bicycle, or skateboard, or a little pet doggie. Whether it’s conscious or not, all of these things are just accessories to complete the image you are creating for yourself (at least this is what fours passionately believe). Anyway, one of my friends had cigarettes so a couple of us went outside the bar for a smoke. Man, did I feel cool or what. Actually, I felt like a giddy little middle school child, sneaking out of class to go smoke in the school parking lot. My friends had to teach me the proper way to hold a cigarette. I managed to not choke or cough to death, but overall I don’t think I pulled off the “I look cool smoking a cigarette” look. In fact I bet I looked like a small child pretending to look cool while puffing on candy cigarettes. Maybe I needed to add other accessories to boost my coolness factor, like a fedora hat. Perhaps I’ll try that next time.PS. I wonder if the smoking novelty will conflict with my latest yoga/health/exercise phase.
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
i'm bringing sweaty back, part 2
I attended my first bikram yoga class last night. My roommate had given me a coupon for two free classes at this small studio in Oakland, so I decided to check it out, even though I was a bit nervous about it. Prior to last night, my only knowledge of bikram yoga was that the room is set at a very high temperature and it gets really smelly. I only knew this because one time I went to a yoga class at Yoga Tree in SF. I had to wait a few minutes to enter the studio since the previous class was still in session. Apparently it was a bikram yoga class. When it was over, a wave of sweaty, nearly-nude bodies emerged from the studio, and when I entered the room it was really hot and stinky. What goes on in there behind closed doors!? I didn’t know, and I didn’t really care to find out. I imagined a crowded room full of hot sweaty bodies doing all kinds of strange intricate poses.
Turns out that’s pretty much exactly what happens. The room is about a million degrees and everybody gets really hot and sweaty, I mean REALLY sweaty. I guess it’s supposed to be good for you to emit buckets of sweat. As somebody who already produces plenty of mansweat, the idea of loosening up my sweat pores or glands or whatever to release even more sweat was not very appealing. And several times during the class I felt light-headed and thought I was going to pass out.
So yes, it was intense, but at the same time...it felt really, really good. And there was something about being drenched in sweat, amidst other sweaty bodies, that felt liberating. I imagine it is akin to rolling around in a giant mud bath, or getting caught in a downpour and running around in the rain. Or being in a giant orgy. Something like that.
Korean Spa
Speaking of being comfortable with hot sweaty bodies, I also went to a Korean spa with my roommates over the weekend. For those of you who don’t know, at Korean spas you walk around completely naked. At first it’s a little weird, but then eventually you get used to being naked, since everybody around you is naked. At least that’s how it was for me. Pretty soon everybody just seems like giant mounds of flesh walking around. Totally normal! Anyway, this place has a dry sauna, steam sauna, hot earth rooms, whirlpools, and even a little café that serves Korean food. I wonder if heaven will be like that — a mansion filled with different sauna rooms and whirlpools, where everybody is naked and there is unlimited Korean food. And an olympic-sized pool filled with milk tea and giant boba balls.
image from Closet Therapy.
Friday, September 12, 2008
i'm bringing sweaty back
Went to the gym last night to attend a yoga class. I had some time beforehand so I ran on the treadmill for a little while. Man, I am out of shape. I was huffing and puffing and sweating up a storm after about 10 minutes. I got on the treadmill at the same time as this middle-aged lady next to me, and not like I was trying to race her or anything, but I noticed I was going a little faster than her, which pathetically made me feel pretty good about myself. But then after about 20 minutes when I thought I was going to die, I looked to my right and the middle-aged lady was still going strong and barely breaking a sweat!
So later I went and stood in line outside the yoga room. The class is pretty popular so there are always a bunch of people lined up outside, waiting to get in to claim their space on the floor with their yoga mats. The class is mostly made up of women, an inordinate number of them being CLAGs (who are super flexible, not that I compare). But anyway, while waiting in line to get into the yoga class, I was very self-conscious of how sweaty I was. It seriously looked like I had just run through a sprinkler or doused myself with a bucket of water. The worst part was when I felt some drops on my shoulder and thought “Gee, I must be standing under a leaky pipe.” I looked up at the ceiling and there was no leaky pipe (in fact there were no pipes). I looked down and noticed drops of water at my feet. And then I realized that the liquid drops were coming from my sweaty head!
Why am I going to the gym these days, anyway? Is it because I care about my health and general well-being? Mmmm, kinda. Mainly it’s because the other day I noticed that my pants don’t really fit anymore, and when I weighed myself I found that I had gained a few pounds. I shared my newfound motivation to exercise with Chris, who was visiting this past weekend. He told me that the best motivation for going to the gym was feeling bad about your body. “Let the negative motivation bother you enough but not so much that it gets you depressed,” he said, “because then you might just escape into food.” Wow, what an inspirational coach. He had other great words of wisdom, like “Bottom line, if you want to lose weight, just don’t eat.” We hung out in Berkeley on Monday and made a pit stop at King Pin Donuts. I got half a dozen donut holes and scarfed several down in a few seconds. Chris took one look at me and goes “Staf... Aren’t you trying to lose weight?” Sigh...
Whatever, soon it will be winter time, and wouldn’t it be better to store up more fat to endure the cold? That is my reasoning. But meanwhile I will try to keep up going to the gym, and hopefully this exercise streak will last longer than the last one (which lasted only a couple days).
So later I went and stood in line outside the yoga room. The class is pretty popular so there are always a bunch of people lined up outside, waiting to get in to claim their space on the floor with their yoga mats. The class is mostly made up of women, an inordinate number of them being CLAGs (who are super flexible, not that I compare). But anyway, while waiting in line to get into the yoga class, I was very self-conscious of how sweaty I was. It seriously looked like I had just run through a sprinkler or doused myself with a bucket of water. The worst part was when I felt some drops on my shoulder and thought “Gee, I must be standing under a leaky pipe.” I looked up at the ceiling and there was no leaky pipe (in fact there were no pipes). I looked down and noticed drops of water at my feet. And then I realized that the liquid drops were coming from my sweaty head!
Why am I going to the gym these days, anyway? Is it because I care about my health and general well-being? Mmmm, kinda. Mainly it’s because the other day I noticed that my pants don’t really fit anymore, and when I weighed myself I found that I had gained a few pounds. I shared my newfound motivation to exercise with Chris, who was visiting this past weekend. He told me that the best motivation for going to the gym was feeling bad about your body. “Let the negative motivation bother you enough but not so much that it gets you depressed,” he said, “because then you might just escape into food.” Wow, what an inspirational coach. He had other great words of wisdom, like “Bottom line, if you want to lose weight, just don’t eat.” We hung out in Berkeley on Monday and made a pit stop at King Pin Donuts. I got half a dozen donut holes and scarfed several down in a few seconds. Chris took one look at me and goes “Staf... Aren’t you trying to lose weight?” Sigh...
Whatever, soon it will be winter time, and wouldn’t it be better to store up more fat to endure the cold? That is my reasoning. But meanwhile I will try to keep up going to the gym, and hopefully this exercise streak will last longer than the last one (which lasted only a couple days).
Thursday, September 11, 2008
what about joe biden?
i recently attended my first printmaking class at the Academy, and our assignment this week was to do three drawings for our first linoleum print. i thought about drawing obama, but i mean, he's SO overdone. There is enough cool obama art out there. my friend suggested that i draw joe biden instead. how come there aren't any cool, trendy posters and t-shirts with joe biden's face?
so i tried to draw joe biden. i wanted to add a revolutionary che guevara-looking beret or bandana that said "CHANGE." but i could not get a good likeness of his face and eventually gave up.
anyway, it's been a slow last couple days (as evidenced by my recent posting spree) so i decided to just photoshop it.
yes we can!
so i tried to draw joe biden. i wanted to add a revolutionary che guevara-looking beret or bandana that said "CHANGE." but i could not get a good likeness of his face and eventually gave up.
anyway, it's been a slow last couple days (as evidenced by my recent posting spree) so i decided to just photoshop it.
yes we can!
new baby
Feels like lots of folks are havin' babiez these days. (ok, just two -- but that seems like a lot within one week.) i made a couple birth announcements for my co-worker who should be having her baby boy any day now. here's one of the options; we ended up going with a different one (which I will post when i actually have a photo of the baby!):
can't wait to meet Baby Beliso!
can't wait to meet Baby Beliso!
hardly strictly bluegrass
Anybody else planning to attend this free concert in the park? I am super excited, although wondering if Gillian Welch will be there, since she is currently not on the line-up. Last year I got to see Jeff Tweedy and Neko Case. This year I plan to be there on Sunday to catch Bonnie "Prince" Billy -- I'll be sitting on the grass, surrounded by white pot-smoking hippies and their bicycles and dogs. See you there!
Creature Delites
At the risk of sounding extremely shallow, I wanted to share about some recent discoveries in the Bay Area that I really like.
In general I don’t like it when restaurants claim to serve “authentic” soul food or Asian fusion or whatever else is trendy and then charge high prices for the “attitude and the atmosphere.” But as much as I hate to admit it, I am a fan of this place. They have yummy drinks, play good music, and the bartenders are nice and friendly. This past Saturday I was having a drink with a couple friends, and Chris Daly walked in and sat at the bar next to us. Granted I did not know who he was until my friend pointed him out and I wikipedia-ed him later. Anyway I guess it’s cool to hang out at establishments where incendiary liberal supervisors hang out.
Thanks to Michelle & Gina for introducing me to this trendy store that recently opened up at the San Francisco Shopping Center. Originally from Vancouver, this place has really fun, colorful clothes which are all designed in-house. Lots of the skirts and dresses have POCKETS. They have small sizes for tiny people like me. Their prices are not too bad. And the ladies who work there are super friendly and helpful. This store is dangerous for somebody like me who tries to live simply, yet loves loves loves these kinds of stores. Arrrrgh!
Gooyi Gooyi
Thanks to John for introducing me to this restaurant that has the most amazing dduk bo sam. I don’t remember my tummy being that happy from a meal in a long time. If you live in the Bay Area and have a hankering for some quality Korean bbq, do yourself a favor and check out this hole in the wall, located in Santa Clara, next to an adult store and a liquor store. A classy establishment!
In general I don’t like it when restaurants claim to serve “authentic” soul food or Asian fusion or whatever else is trendy and then charge high prices for the “attitude and the atmosphere.” But as much as I hate to admit it, I am a fan of this place. They have yummy drinks, play good music, and the bartenders are nice and friendly. This past Saturday I was having a drink with a couple friends, and Chris Daly walked in and sat at the bar next to us. Granted I did not know who he was until my friend pointed him out and I wikipedia-ed him later. Anyway I guess it’s cool to hang out at establishments where incendiary liberal supervisors hang out.
Thanks to Michelle & Gina for introducing me to this trendy store that recently opened up at the San Francisco Shopping Center. Originally from Vancouver, this place has really fun, colorful clothes which are all designed in-house. Lots of the skirts and dresses have POCKETS. They have small sizes for tiny people like me. Their prices are not too bad. And the ladies who work there are super friendly and helpful. This store is dangerous for somebody like me who tries to live simply, yet loves loves loves these kinds of stores. Arrrrgh!
Gooyi Gooyi
Thanks to John for introducing me to this restaurant that has the most amazing dduk bo sam. I don’t remember my tummy being that happy from a meal in a long time. If you live in the Bay Area and have a hankering for some quality Korean bbq, do yourself a favor and check out this hole in the wall, located in Santa Clara, next to an adult store and a liquor store. A classy establishment!
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
pixie hair, part 2
I'm already tired of the pixie hair. According to Chris, I look like Prince Valiant.
Family Vignettes
Our family had a little reunion this past Labor Day weekend, since Kris has now returned from Peru/Argentina. Once again, it was a quiet, restful time, filled with unintentional comedy, inappropriate comments, and (this time) some heated ethical/religious debates. Here are some highlights from the weekend.
Dad Waiting Outside by the Gate Entrance
John and I carpooled home together from Oakland, and when we finally arrived in our neighborhood in Sacramento on Friday night, we noticed a little man standing by the entrance to our street. When we pulled up closer we realized it was Dad. I have no idea how long he was standing there waiting for us. It was probably at least 20 minutes. What a cute old man!
Faithfully
Saturday morning reminded me of a typical weekend at home, with me still in my oversized Paula Abdul Under My Spell t-shirt and pj pants, playing cards and watching TV. I had "Faithfully" by Journey in my head and decided to learn how to play it on the piano. This turned into an impromptu jam session with me on the piano and John on the guitar. This lasted only about 5 minutes though, as I soon discovered that the only thing I really knew how to play (besides “Faithfully”) were praise and worship songs.
Random Dog That Appeared in Our Backyard
On Saturday afternoon, the boys and I were hanging out by the pool in our backyard, when Kris looked up and said, “Is that a dog?” We thought he might have been hallucinating from too much sun and beer. But sure enough, there was a little doggie that magically appeared and was sitting next to the pool. How did he get through our fenced backyard? Our family is not very animal-friendly (some may know about the mistreatment of our previous pet, Millie the cat) and the last dog that we owned died a tragic death (the details of which are still unclear to me). My mom took one look at the dog, which we affectionately nicknamed Baxter, and exclaimed that his face was ugly. It’s true; Baxter sort of had a hideous face. But he was a small and hungry doggie, and although he had a collar with contact info, neither of the phone numbers worked. So we got him some water and dog food and took care of him...until he mysteriously disappeared.
Later that evening, the doorbell rang, and a neighbor appeared with Baxter — he saw the doggie crawl out of our backyard fence and assumed that it belonged to us. Apparently Baxter is often seen wandering around the neighborhood, and his owner doesn’t take very good care of him. I wish I could now insert a heartwarming ending to this story and say that this sad abandoned dog had won over our hearts and that he now belongs to us. But no, we tried to convince the neighbor to take Baxter away and leave us alone. So that was that.
$5 Footlongs
Here’s a story about how Dad gets easily confused. He and Mom went golfing on Saturday morning and decided to stop by Subway on the way home to pick up lunch. Apparently Dad saw a sign on the road that said “$5 Footlongs at Subway” and he interpreted this to mean five footlongs for $5, as in one dollar per footlong. Even though Mom told him he was wrong, he stubbornly insisted, but by the time he called me to take our orders, he sounded very confused on the phone and then muttered “Nevermind, okay bye” and then they came home shortly thereafter. I can just imagine him standing at the Subway counter, overwhelmed by all of the sandwich toppings while trying to do the math in his head for how much five footlongs would cost.
The Heated Homosexuality Debate, Part I
On Saturday night over dinner, I mentioned that I’d be up for watching a movie together that evening. Dad jumped in and suggested two gay movies that he had just gotten on Netflix. I don’t know when he got into gay movies; maybe they were recommended to him by one of his Presbyterian friends. Anyway, since we were on the topic of homosexuality, Mom decided to tell a story about an awkward incident that happened at the country club that morning. Apparently she was in the locker room with a new member of the club, who was there with a younger woman. When the younger woman left the locker room, my mom asked the new member, “Is that your daughter?” When she didn’t really respond, my mom asked again. Then the woman said hesitantly, “No, she’s my partner.” Then my mom felt awkward. This story agitated my dad, who insisted that my mom’s behavior was insensitive and that she should have felt stupid for what she did. The rest of us (me, John, Chris) defended our mom, and we had a lively but very stupid debate about whether or not her behavior was appropriate.
The Heated Homosexuality Debate, Part 2
The next night we went to Oz Barbeque, a Rue family tradition. Somehow we got to discussing homosexuality again, this time about whether or not homosexuality is a sin. It got pretty heated, as John was defending the side of “hate the sin, love the sinner” and citing the Bible as a reference for his viewpoint, which of course agitated my dad. Somehow the issue of masturbation came up, I guess to make a point about what the Bible says is right or wrong. I don’t remember why, but John brought up some hypothetical point about masturbating while thinking about something innocent, like deer and waterfalls. Then my dad jumped in with some counterpoint about bestiality, and whether or not that was wrong. Needless to say, the debate really went nowhere after that.
Dad Attempting to Set Up a Facebook Account
Dad is so cute with his new macbook, which he totes around the house. Sometimes when I’m in Chris’s room, using his computer, Dad would come in with his macbook and plop down on the futon so we could check email together. Anyway, at some point during the weekend, Dad was sitting on the couch with his macbook propped up on his little lap, and exclaimed that he had just received an email from a pastor friend, inviting him to be friends on Facebook. He read the entire email outloud to us, even though we assured him that we were quite familiar with what it says. Then he insisted on signing up for Facebook so that he could accept the request, so as not to offend his pastor friend. Meanwhile he was trying to log on to Facebook. He looked troubled and confused on the Facebook login page, his brow furrowed while he clicked on random boxes. We assured him that his friend would not even notice if he didn’t accept her friend request, but he insisted. I’m not sure if he was ever able to sign in though, as I’m pretty sure John (who was sitting next to him) was thwarting all of Dad’s attempts to create an account.
My Dad's Arm
I’ll end with an image. It is of my dad’s withered, sunburnt arm, which I noticed during every meal over the weekend, since I sit next to him at the dinner table. I don’t know how I never noticed this before — either I am not a very observant person (which is true) or it’s just gotten a lot more noticeable. But man — my dad is getting old. I know I’ve talked about the mortality of my parents before, but this was just another startling reminder. When I saw my dad’s shrunken little arm and veiny hand, all gnarled like the roots of an old tree, I was reminded that he will not live forever. So in the meantime I've decided to enjoy every moment with my family, as quirky or frustrating or mundane or cringeworthy as it is, and share as many of these priceless moments as I can.
Dad Waiting Outside by the Gate Entrance
John and I carpooled home together from Oakland, and when we finally arrived in our neighborhood in Sacramento on Friday night, we noticed a little man standing by the entrance to our street. When we pulled up closer we realized it was Dad. I have no idea how long he was standing there waiting for us. It was probably at least 20 minutes. What a cute old man!
Faithfully
Saturday morning reminded me of a typical weekend at home, with me still in my oversized Paula Abdul Under My Spell t-shirt and pj pants, playing cards and watching TV. I had "Faithfully" by Journey in my head and decided to learn how to play it on the piano. This turned into an impromptu jam session with me on the piano and John on the guitar. This lasted only about 5 minutes though, as I soon discovered that the only thing I really knew how to play (besides “Faithfully”) were praise and worship songs.
Random Dog That Appeared in Our Backyard
On Saturday afternoon, the boys and I were hanging out by the pool in our backyard, when Kris looked up and said, “Is that a dog?” We thought he might have been hallucinating from too much sun and beer. But sure enough, there was a little doggie that magically appeared and was sitting next to the pool. How did he get through our fenced backyard? Our family is not very animal-friendly (some may know about the mistreatment of our previous pet, Millie the cat) and the last dog that we owned died a tragic death (the details of which are still unclear to me). My mom took one look at the dog, which we affectionately nicknamed Baxter, and exclaimed that his face was ugly. It’s true; Baxter sort of had a hideous face. But he was a small and hungry doggie, and although he had a collar with contact info, neither of the phone numbers worked. So we got him some water and dog food and took care of him...until he mysteriously disappeared.
Later that evening, the doorbell rang, and a neighbor appeared with Baxter — he saw the doggie crawl out of our backyard fence and assumed that it belonged to us. Apparently Baxter is often seen wandering around the neighborhood, and his owner doesn’t take very good care of him. I wish I could now insert a heartwarming ending to this story and say that this sad abandoned dog had won over our hearts and that he now belongs to us. But no, we tried to convince the neighbor to take Baxter away and leave us alone. So that was that.
$5 Footlongs
Here’s a story about how Dad gets easily confused. He and Mom went golfing on Saturday morning and decided to stop by Subway on the way home to pick up lunch. Apparently Dad saw a sign on the road that said “$5 Footlongs at Subway” and he interpreted this to mean five footlongs for $5, as in one dollar per footlong. Even though Mom told him he was wrong, he stubbornly insisted, but by the time he called me to take our orders, he sounded very confused on the phone and then muttered “Nevermind, okay bye” and then they came home shortly thereafter. I can just imagine him standing at the Subway counter, overwhelmed by all of the sandwich toppings while trying to do the math in his head for how much five footlongs would cost.
The Heated Homosexuality Debate, Part I
On Saturday night over dinner, I mentioned that I’d be up for watching a movie together that evening. Dad jumped in and suggested two gay movies that he had just gotten on Netflix. I don’t know when he got into gay movies; maybe they were recommended to him by one of his Presbyterian friends. Anyway, since we were on the topic of homosexuality, Mom decided to tell a story about an awkward incident that happened at the country club that morning. Apparently she was in the locker room with a new member of the club, who was there with a younger woman. When the younger woman left the locker room, my mom asked the new member, “Is that your daughter?” When she didn’t really respond, my mom asked again. Then the woman said hesitantly, “No, she’s my partner.” Then my mom felt awkward. This story agitated my dad, who insisted that my mom’s behavior was insensitive and that she should have felt stupid for what she did. The rest of us (me, John, Chris) defended our mom, and we had a lively but very stupid debate about whether or not her behavior was appropriate.
The Heated Homosexuality Debate, Part 2
The next night we went to Oz Barbeque, a Rue family tradition. Somehow we got to discussing homosexuality again, this time about whether or not homosexuality is a sin. It got pretty heated, as John was defending the side of “hate the sin, love the sinner” and citing the Bible as a reference for his viewpoint, which of course agitated my dad. Somehow the issue of masturbation came up, I guess to make a point about what the Bible says is right or wrong. I don’t remember why, but John brought up some hypothetical point about masturbating while thinking about something innocent, like deer and waterfalls. Then my dad jumped in with some counterpoint about bestiality, and whether or not that was wrong. Needless to say, the debate really went nowhere after that.
Dad Attempting to Set Up a Facebook Account
Dad is so cute with his new macbook, which he totes around the house. Sometimes when I’m in Chris’s room, using his computer, Dad would come in with his macbook and plop down on the futon so we could check email together. Anyway, at some point during the weekend, Dad was sitting on the couch with his macbook propped up on his little lap, and exclaimed that he had just received an email from a pastor friend, inviting him to be friends on Facebook. He read the entire email outloud to us, even though we assured him that we were quite familiar with what it says. Then he insisted on signing up for Facebook so that he could accept the request, so as not to offend his pastor friend. Meanwhile he was trying to log on to Facebook. He looked troubled and confused on the Facebook login page, his brow furrowed while he clicked on random boxes. We assured him that his friend would not even notice if he didn’t accept her friend request, but he insisted. I’m not sure if he was ever able to sign in though, as I’m pretty sure John (who was sitting next to him) was thwarting all of Dad’s attempts to create an account.
My Dad's Arm
I’ll end with an image. It is of my dad’s withered, sunburnt arm, which I noticed during every meal over the weekend, since I sit next to him at the dinner table. I don’t know how I never noticed this before — either I am not a very observant person (which is true) or it’s just gotten a lot more noticeable. But man — my dad is getting old. I know I’ve talked about the mortality of my parents before, but this was just another startling reminder. When I saw my dad’s shrunken little arm and veiny hand, all gnarled like the roots of an old tree, I was reminded that he will not live forever. So in the meantime I've decided to enjoy every moment with my family, as quirky or frustrating or mundane or cringeworthy as it is, and share as many of these priceless moments as I can.
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