Saturday, February 14, 2009

like father, like son

For Valentine's Day, I just had to share this story of father-son bonding. I'll call the dad "Big Daddy." The story goes that Big Daddy's sixth grade son recently started showing an interest in girls. Big Daddy is extremely happy about this, in the way that moms get excited when their daughters start showing an interest in shopping.

One day, the boy wanders into the media room to find his father watching the Victoria's Secret Fashion Show. Instead of changing the channel or shooing his son out of the room, Big Daddy tells his son to come on over and watch the show.

Son: "What is this?"
Big Daddy: "It's a fashion show."
His son sits down and his eyes become transfixed on the television set.
Big Daddy is enjoying this special time with his son -- their first Victoria's Secret Fashion Show viewing together. Scantily clad women with really big wings parade before them. Father and son, spending some quality time together.

After a few minutes, the son says to his dad: "I can't believe anybody would actually buy those wings."

Some things just cannot be rushed. In due time, Big Daddy, in due time.

NOTE: My husband requested that I clarify that "Big Daddy" in this story is not him.  If it were my husband, I would have called him Big Poppa, not Big Daddy.  

Sunday, February 1, 2009

big buttons

My friend Joe looks down at me as I am buttoning my Woo Stassia coat, and comments,
"Whoa, those are some big buttons you've got there."
"Joe, I love it when you talk about my big buttons," I quip, knowing that he will find this amusing. He is, after all, always ready with a one-liner -- and I know this because we have known each other for over two decades now.

When I first met him, he was on a basketball court, even though it sometimes seemed that he was playing football. Off the court, he was usually wearing his Doc Martens, jeans, a t-shirt and a leather jacket. He wore his hair shaved around the back and sides, longer and slicked back on top -- clearly the inspiration for Gavin Newsom's current hairstyle. When we went out to a club, he wouldn't (or couldn't) do the Cabbage Patch. "Do your own dance!" he would say with a smile, as he busted some unique move that he must have created himself or learned during his days as a Valley Guy. He is one of the few people I know who is skinnier and in better shape than he was twenty years ago, but aside from his trimmed down physique, he is the same Joe to me. We used to bond over things like how to cut and roll a room, back in the day when we used to paint our own houses -- before we had kids.

The occasion for seeing Joe (and Nancy, Bill, Debbie, Tim, Ada, Jin, Peter, Steve, Onilda, Jackie and "the kids") tonight was a Happy Super Chinese New Year's Bowl Party, complete with chips & guacamole, calamari, roast duck, pressed duck, chicken, ribs, crab, shrimp, fish, chow mein, two different seafood & veggie dishes, fried rice, sticky rice, duck & organic greens salad, seven-layer jell-o, and a berry trifle made with Chinese sponge cake for dessert. Orchestrated by Debbie and Bill, we somehow managed to find a date when all of us and most of our kids were available to spend a few hours together. As we sat around the dinner table, we talked about how we all knew one another, and it was interesting to see that all of my relationships in that room were somehow tied to my summer clerkship for the Asian Law Caucus in 1987, when Bill took me with him to play basketball. It was great to just have some time together, talking about the old and the new; potty-training puppies and college applications; affirmative action and domestic violence; lumpia and egg rolls; Top Chef and CNN; the Cardinals and the Steelers. Real conversations in real time. Friendships that started out with being connected by something other than a Facebook link. Wow. What a concept.

Thanks for a great evening, and a toast to all the pre-Facebook friendships out there. And, yes, Joe -- I do have some really big buttons. I look forward to showing them to you again sometime soon.