Trombone, 40, Sac and wet, and The Biggest Man

Guess I needed to take a break from piling in the words but I am back for more. I've been spending time with Dexter's transistor radio listening to Giants baseball games. The outcome of these games as we head to October impacts my moods. That is the beauty of sports; you feel. And if you feel agony more often than not, it isn't the type of pain that compares to the loss of life. It really is just a game. Get up. Get on with it. Next year is going to be fun. However we are still in the clutches of this year, and I am in agony. Torture. Next year following only Canasta and that's it.

Last weekend in Sacramento with our friends Hale and Colleen. Haven't been to Sacaramento since my family and I would visit friends, Uncle Johnny and Auntie Rose and their 6 children. I remember Uncle Johnny's restaurant (the restaurant was in Vallejo, they lived in Sacramento) and how cool it was to be treated so royally by this sweet family. Soda in a glass? More soda? Really- whatever I want?
For my parents 50th wedding anniversary, Maria and I borrowed their phone book and contacted all their friends & relatives to ask for old photos and stories. It was amazing what we would find in our mail box as we put the project together. Uncle Johnny had saved letters that my Dad had written him shortly after World War 2. My father is a minimalist in terms of speaking but here were 2 page letters- 2 pages! he sent to Uncle Johnny. Also stories from Johnny as to how my Dad helped (not an Uncle by relation) Uncle Johnny come to the US. We also found how my mother pretended to be from the South the first time they met.

There are things to do in Sacramento and we were there (Maria graciously and happy to relax in hotel, stayed with the young 'ens) to see Trombone Shorty at a club called Harlow's. Trombone Shorty began playing music in New Orleans when he was six (hence the nickname) and is a major musical export from the city. Dr. John might refer to it as the "fonk" and as fine a blend of fun, musical chops, hard rhythms, James Brown bandleading skills, interplay with audience and his band, this was one wild, fonky set, my friends. He will be part of the Hardly Strictly Bluegrass lineup (the first two-three years was called "Strictly Bluegrass") in a few weeks.

Backtrack to two birthday events: Photo of Colleen's new boots at her lovely 40th birthday party staged at a Cuban restaurant. The dancing was great fun and I think my sunshine move was best. Also, photo of Dexter's skills at the water park. Dext had never gone to a water park, expressed an interest intriguing his paents. Raging, Flaming Waters- whatever it is called in San Jose on a fortunate sunny Sunday Sept 12.

Ungh- hate these type of public dressing rooms but the layout of the place if smaller than anticipated was good. Water a bit cool and crowds, even late afternoon in the middle of September, still substantial. Oliver, who I have taken to calling "Al Ver" was not very keen at exploring beyond the kid friendly big pools. When Maria and Dexter tackled a big slide, they ended up with a ride full of water up their noses. I should be grateful to Big O's lack of adventure. Dexter and I did check out the wave action pool which was good fun. By the way regardless of how Maria remembers it, it was not me who chose the Jaws theme as our wedding theme. Would anyone seriously believe that I would choose Jaws? Lovely score by John Williams.

I suppose I am exploring feeling alive, amidst the marking of time. Besides the breakdown of our physical bodies (see me jumping up to touch a ceiling light and throwing out my back) that which really might age us, is in living, witnessing our loved ones and friends, die. When we are younger it is an unexpected blow and we, in our mobility, can recover. The longer we live the more grief we share, and this wears us down. As we lose our mobility, we can only face that which becomes almost a house mate, waiting, waiting.

The biggest man in my life is of course, my father. He turned 90 last week and he is a great man. It hurts to see him hurting, in physical and mental pain, missing my mother. He is alone now and makes overtures that he is ready to go. The children fortunately provide some joy as do any wins from the Giants or 49'ers. Dad does not have any very close friends to visit with. Mom had a social network. Four of her old friends were over this past Saturday for a dinner for Dad. They are an inspiring group. All four women, in their 80's, independent and strong, some travel daily by Bart and Muni. All were drinking coffee at 8pm at night. Not decaf but coffee. Most of the 20 year olds I work with don't touch the stuff after lunch. They had wine with dinner and rumor always had it that Aunt Blossom could match play anyone else's drinking capabilities. So here's to you guys for thinking about my Dad and your beloved friend, May- Auntie Bess, Aunt Blossom, Aunt Helen, and Auntie May Fong. Another sideways story: Aunt Helen's sister, Florence was married to Tom Hanks father, after his mother died. She was a great wife to Mr. Hanks but Tom and his siblings were not nice to her, as he tells the story now. Tom, my sort of cousin. We're related to pitcher Nolan Ryan too.

Growing up Dad was always calm- stuck in a sandstorm in a desert outside of Vegas for 15 hours, everyone in the broken car panicked except Dad. It was a scary night and odd too for 15 feet over the swirling winds were blue skies. Outside the wind and sand would knock you over. He was not one for showing much emotion but now, his willingness to allow us to help him has allowed relationships to deepen and without many words, create new meaning in how we relate to one another. I have always admired him for his humor, and engaging personality, his sense of decency and fairness. In 1978 , although I was not old enough to vote, there was Propositon 6, the Briggs Initiative, anti-gay legislation and I remember trying to grasp its meaning. Sitting on our front stairs, Dad spoke of its unfairness and how he would vote against it. This memory is a calling that the decisions that I make, the actions that I take will have lasting impressions on my children.

My father and I became close when I moved out in 1985. I am certainly both my parents. If ever anyone says that I remind them of either, I will be touched and honored.
This week Dad took to being ill- he seems to have come out of it but I am no less worried. My other parents, Ann and John as they too show signs of the wear of life, we know there are sad days ahead. I feel older and just want to hold my family near.