Twas the Night Before Christmas

Twas the night before Christmas and all through the flat,

not a creature was stirring except me and the cat.

The stockings were hung from the kitchen bar counter with care,

in hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there.

Connor was nestled all snug in his bed,

while visions of Geometry Dash danced in his head.

And me in my PJ pants ready to go,

had just hopped in bed to watch a new show.

And that's because I just finished my parental duties, on this Christmas Eve. The duties of the Santa! I wasn't actually expecting to have Connor here this evening, but as things go...well he's here still and fallen asleep now. But I was prepared, as it's always wise to be around the holidays. As I learned the hard way two years ago.

And I suppose, as things go, it's been a fine holiday thus far. Lights were hung, presents were bought and wrapped, and many have already been opened. I mean really, we had to improvise a bit as Covid seems to be lingering around the family and threatening our ability to gather. 

So tomorrow it may well be just the old folks and me sharing a pizza for our Christmas dinner, but hey, I haven't had pizza in awhile and that sounds pretty good about right now. Connor and I did visit them this morning so he could get his gifts from them and we could delight in danishes, cinnamon rolls, and imbibe our traditional holiday mimosas. 

Perhaps tomorrow night I'll go walk the Rockmont Circle lights one more time, just to hang onto that Christmas spirit a little longer. It seems like such a build up every year, and then in a blink of an eye it's all over. Whoosh! There it goes. Well such is life, I suppose. 

But tonight all least all is calm and serene, and a little bit of magic still stirs in the air. I'm not sure how long the little guy will continue to believe the old fat guy in the bright red suit. This could be the last year, who knows. Though he seems more inclined to believe in the tooth fairy. Perhaps because there's cold hard cash involved in that one. In any case, tomorrow morning should be a delight, as he awakes and discovers that we had a...visitor last night, And he ate our cookies and drank our milk and left a present or two to boot! Ok ok, it was a bike. He left a bike. And some candy canes and Robux in the stocking. 

 

The Spirit of the Season

So I took a walk around the infamous Rockmont Circle yesterday, famed for its holiday decor. I had actually driven around it, playing chauffeur to my parents, at the beginning of the week. And truth be told...I checked it out on Thanksgiving weekend as well. Though not everything was up then. Not by a long shot. 

So yes, this was a repeat visit. But honestly, you can go many times and still not catch the details of everything. And this time someone had a snow machine set up. Walking in a winter wonderland. All told, the residents there have really outdone themselves this year.  It certainly helps one get in the holiday spirit, and at least to feel nostalgic a bit, for days of our past. Not sure what it is about all those twinkling lights that does it, but it just somehow transports you somewhere back into an innocent and carefree past.

And yes, I'll freely admit now that I've been committing the sin of a middle aged woman and watching Hallmark Christmas movies on Hulu. Just a few anyway. And yes, they live up to their ridicule of being quickly produced and heavily formulaic sentimental romps. I mean, how many movies can you have where the story line involves a cute, young female from a bustling city who is lost in life and love and finds herself sent for whatever reason to a small town in the middle of nowhere that is drenched in holiday cheer and has one love lost male who gets conveniently thrust into her life. That's...pretty much the story line of most of them. With mild variations.

But anyway, it's nine days till Christmas, and all through the house, only the cat and I are stirring. Connor come back tomorrow, and next week is the last week of school for him before the holidays. Their last day is the 21st! Talk about cutting it close. And good thing I've actually finished all my holiday shopping, and completed all the wrapping. Ready for the big day! And ready to close out 2023.

My car saga has now concluded. I unceremoniously said goodbye to my old Niro, my faithful and efficient companion for the last five years before it suddenly had a mental breakdown. For all I know it's still in the shop. I traded it in towards. new 2023 Kia Sportage while it was still awaiting a new computer for its hybrid system. And it was somewhat sad to see it go, but even sadder to now be saddled with car payments again. But such is life. And I like the new car, I do, I just wish it didn't cost so much. Sign of the times I guess. Life works out though, it always does. This picture of the new car was taken in the back lot of the dealership, just after its arrival the evening before and before my second test drive. And so, it ultimately came home with me.

And so life marches on, the year draws to a close, and a new year is just waiting to be unwrapped and explored. Though at the moment I have made no plans for the new year, no trips are booked. I haven't even really seriously thought about it. It's basically an unwritten book at this point. I guess we'll see what comes of it. But for the next two weeks anyway, I'll sit back and relax and enjoy the holidays. And I guess, watch some more Hallmark movies. 

The Saga Continues

So the saga of my car troubles continues, like an ill-conceived sequel to an only mildly-successful feature film. It's been in the shop now since November 16, a full three weeks as of today. And no, this is not my new car pictured here, this is my new rental. A 2024 Kia Seltos SX. Top of the line model with all the bells and whistles no less.

I actually got my car back, albeit briefly, last Thursday, November 30. It ran fine. For one day. On the way home from work I stopped by the drive thru of our lovely local Del Taco for some late evening sustenance, and it died. In the drive thru. Same issue as before. Fortunately I was able to get it restarted after a minute, so I could get it out of the drive thru, and the potheads behind me could satisfy their drug-induced munchie cravings. Because let's face it, who goes to Del Taco at 8pm on a Thursday evening? I mean, besides me.

So we towed it back to the dealer the next morning, after it disgracefully sat alone in the practically abandoned parking lot of the Walmart Shopping Center. And there at the dealer it sits still. The one advantage for me is, since their initial repair was unsuccessful, Kia was then required to supply me with a rental car, at their expense. So there's that anyway. And I got an update, last Friday evening, that they started a "techline case with Kia" on it. See, apparently, they aren't really allowed to work on it until the engineers in whatever super secret undisclosed location they are sequestered at give them advice and guidance on how to proceed. 

Yes, and the gods in their ivory tower spoke to my technician, on the following Tuesday morning following their long weekend break, and they decreed that the technician shall "check connections to the HPCU for any loose, bent, backed out, damaged, corroded, or moisture-contaminated terminals." The English translation, or rather interpretation is, "We don't know what's wrong, why don't you look and see if anything looks broken on it.". And lo, the technician followed the Good Advice, and he hath come up with...nothing. Apparently. Because now, they want to order a whole new HPCU Reservoir Unit, which again is just a fancy term for "computer". They are just awaiting approval to order it. And life goes on.

Oh well, at least today is like a winter break day at work, since the faculty are on a one-day strike and all classes were effectively cancelled. More fun times.

Happy Thanksgiving

Well here we are on the eve of Thanksgiving, on the front edge of a long weekend holiday. I cannot say for certain what the weekend may hold, since I still do not have my car; for the past week it has been at the service department of its original dealer in Roseville, mostly awaiting its turn to be seen by the one mechanic apparently employed there who can hook it up to a computer and discover (hopefully) what went wrong. All they can say at this point is that there is some sort of power fault in the hybrid system. That's what the "initial" error codes disclosed for the one brief time it was apparently plugged into a diagnostic computer. I mean, come on, I could have told them that. That's basically what the big scary flashing light on the center console dash means, and the fact that it loses drive power after a couple of minutes provides enough empirical data to back that claim up.

So I sit now at home, my car shopping dreams on hold, while being thankful that my dad's 2014 CR-V is still fully functional and able to be borrowed by me for the purposes of getting back and forth to work and stores and my son's playdates and so on. I think his car must have spent significant time on display in a museum somewhere, for though it is nearly ten years old it only has 21,000 miles on it. Well, a few hundred more now. My car, half his car's age, just passed the 70,000 mark, before it had its midlife crisis a week ago. 

And despite this picture's appearance, I am not now drinking cocoa, for this picture was not taken today nor even this week, but way back on November 2. It was the most recent photo I'd taken of myself, that I saw fit to save and not immediately delete anyway. I'm still working on improving my selfie taking skills...In any case this was a yummy cup of cocoa, down in midtown Sacramento. And it signified, more or less, the start of the winter weather season. Which is to say that the temperatures dropped below 50 degrees, my arbitrary target line for when it becomes just cold enough to justify buying hot chocolate at Starbucks. 

I did make some cocoa today, at work, from instant powder and microwaved water. It, too, was good. And some hours later, and completely unrelated to cocoa, a random mental homeless guy wandered into my office and plopped himself down on my couch. He said he needed to sit for a bit and "consider (his) options." If that's not disconcerting, I don't know what is. He also said he doesn't like his name, and wants to change it before he is "booked". He thought his new name should be OG. I'm...not sure what that means.

But after drinking one of my Capri Suns, which he referred to as a "juice box", and giggling to himself whilst lost deep in thought, the police arrived and called him by name (Daniel) and escorted him away. And now I suppose I should be thankful that I not only have a place to live, but I still have my mental faculties. For the time being anyway. I'm not getting any younger you know. It does put things in perspective as I reflect on my poor little Niro resting up on its own little spa retreat vacation at the Roseville Kia Service Center. And despite this, I still have transportation at my disposal. Thank goodness for supportive family! 

And tomorrow we'll start the morning in our own privileged way drinking mimosas and eating cream-cheese coffee cake while watching the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade. And later, wine and sparkling cider and probably more food than anyone should ingest at my brother's house. And the thing I'm most thankful for, my son, is here with me to enjoy the holiday. We just went for one of our infamous "night walks" around the property. So, yeah, it's a pretty good Thanksgiving after all.

I Think My Car Is Mad At Me

So, I think my car is mad at me. It knew, somehow, that its life with me was potentially coming to an end. Not through any fault of its own. I'm simply...outgrowing it. My son is outgrowing it. His soccer gear is outgrowing it. And when we end up taking two of his teammates and their gear to games - well, we're a little squished in like sardines. I mean, it works, it's not an insurmountable situation, but I've seriously been contemplating getting something a little bigger. With a little more room to breathe. And store stuff. And I've had this little car for over five years now. So maybe, it's time to think of saying goodbye...

My little Niro is not amused at this.

It certainly must have had its suspicions when I stopped by Stockton Kia last Sunday and test drove a new car. And when I then placed my little Niro right next to the new car, and it was unceremoniously poked and prodded in order to theoretically estimate its trade-in value. My car must have picked up on those signals. How could it not?

So then, today, Tuesday, whilst driving down Fulton Ave (on my way to another dealership to look at another car, no less), my Niro decided it had had enough. All of a sudden, and without warning, multiple lights flashed on the display and the car lost power. After pushing it off to the side of the road bit and turning it off and frantically checking the owner's manual to decipher the lit up hieroglyphics on my dashboard, it was clear the car had had a hybrid system malfunction. Which is a slightly nicer way of saying "total system breakdown". Or perhaps an "automotive nervous breakdown"?

And yet...there was a glimmer of hope. The car was not without power, and it actually restarted after resting a minute. And so I drove off, but immediately made the turn towards home. I thought to myself, if it just gets me home, we can talk it over and come to an understanding. Two minutes later it died again. So I pushed over to the side of the road again and switched gears, now thinking of looking for a tow.

First I called the dealership though, for some advice, but they would only say that their tow lot was full and they couldn't get her in till next Tuesday, and oh yes I'd have to arrange to get it there as well. Didn't they used to offer roadside assistance?? Perhaps it was too close to closing time to call with such problems. 

Well, anyways, I tried the restart method and made my way through traffic a little further down the road, like a football player rushing down the field on first down, trying to see how far he can get before he's stopped. Reaching for that next first down. In that manner I made progress - gains in yardage - through...six or seven downs. Yeah, okay, it would have been a turnover in an actual game, and I was nowhere close enough to attempt a field goal. So, about a mile east of Northgate Avenue on West El Camino, I finally threw in the towel and decided to call for a tow. It took awhile to find one who would answer the phone and not be inconveniently too far away or getting ready to close. But eventually the contact was made, the deed was done, and after a wait of about 25 minutes a friendly driver from River City Towing arrived and quickly had me on my way. For the pleasant little fee of $252.

Well played, car, well played. I get it. And now I'm sitting at home contemplating my next strategic play. It's halftime, and I can still come out strong in the second half! 

Fall!

Well here it is, October, the psychological start of fall. And Mother Nature got on board, dropping temperatures into the 70s and even giving us a little rain this past weekend. Of course She is still subject to Her mood swings, as the current forecast touts temperatures in the 90s later this week. 

But still, it's October! Fall!

I started getting my Halloween decorations out over the weekend. Actually, I got almost all of them out. There isn't a whole bunch, really. And yet I've added more this year, including two, 5-foot skeletons to adorn the front porch. And a Haunted Mansion themed tablecloth and lantern for inside. So, slowly but surely, I'm becoming more festive. 

This little glowing jack was actually an acquisition from last year, and follows the current trend of timer-based LED light up decor for the holidays. Six hours on, 18 hours off. Repeat. Until the batteries die. I already have two lanterns, including the afore-mentioned one, with electric candles featuring the same schedule. And it's nice, creating an atmosphere around the holidays, and especially one you don't have to physically turn on and off each night. It's something I was determined to do - create a more festive atmosphere - at least little by little, when I moved out of that cramped, sad, little apartment and into my new condo. Call it a certain pride of ownership, to decorate your castle each holiday season. 

And I like how it's coming together. Oh, to be richer, so that I could really go hog wild! But it's fine, just a little something new to look at each year. Slow and steady, Of course now, today, I'm thinking I need to get some more of those skeleton-laced 3-foot tall decorative plastic fences I had gotten last year...and I do have a 20% off coupon for Spirit (they've been giving those out like candy). So maybe...just a little bit more for this year...

And then one month from now, I can take it all down and get ready for the Christmas decor...same mental approach, but cheerier and more colorful. But in the meantime, hooray for October and hooray for fall!

Of Donuts and Dating

Donut! Stopped by Safeway downtown on my way to work this morning - just to pick up this little gem. it had been many days since I had a donut. Well, okay, it had been two. Two days. But still! I had to celebrate National Donut Day. Which was...June 2 (had to look that one up). But still! Sometimes you just need to give yourself a treat.

So it's Wednesday, Hump Day, in the second week of classes of the fall semester. Feels like we're already a month into the semester. It's been the usual business of locker and key checkouts, and scheduling changes and so on.

Recently I put a profile back up on the Facebook Dating site, having been absent from there for several months. I don't get a lot of hits there. I've heard from various women that they tend to get a lot of hits. Sometimes dozens every day. I can't imagine being that inundated with electronic messages from strangers desperately reaching out into the virtual world grasping for some personal attention. But yet here we are, and that's the world we live in it seems. Still easier yet somehow harder than the old days when I grew up, before internet and cell phones and all of this technology that brings us closer together while simultaneously strangling us with an abundance of external stimuli.

I've dated a few people here and there over the years, nothing over a few months in duration, and the most recent being just shy of two months. Nothing has really worked out, and that's okay. Not everyone will be an ideal match. You meet people, get to know them, try dating, have some good times...and after a time realize you're not the most ideal match. So you move on and keep your eyes (and your phone's browser) open to see who might come through the revolving door next. I've come to believe that I'm looking for something more casual at this stage in my life. Not casual in the sense that I want to date a lot of different people (who has time for that?). But casual in the sense that I'm not convinced I'm ready to give up all of my free time - and the autonomy of my life - to any person. Except perhaps my son, he'll always be number one.

Of course maybe it's just I haven't found the right person yet, maybe the right person will inspire me to want to give up my free time more. Certainly the ones I've dated in years past were not quite the right person, for I was not inspired. Not enough. Is that why we keep trying, looking for "the one"?

But on the other hand, it's nice sometimes to be able to come home after a long day at work and not have anyone to answer to. Well, except the cat. And my son, every other week anyway.

As I sit here at work pondering such things, and having long since finished the afore-mentioned donut, I've suddenly had an epiphany. Right now, I miss that donut more than I miss any of those I've dated and lost. Is that sad?

The Eve of Everything

Alas, here I find myself on the eve of a new semester's beginning at Sac State, the start of my 25th year on staff. Also the eve of my mother's 75th birthday. Quite a milestone! And the eve after the day of my return to San Francisco, after a long hiatus, an absence of what felt like many months after my most recent past of fairly regular visits. Indeed it had been just over four months since my last visit. Too long, too long. I am also near the end of August, having not written here since the beginning of July, and I suppose it's close enough now to call it the virtual eve of September, the long awaited month of Fall and cooler temperatures. 

It seems like the current place I am in is at the crossroads of many eves.

But I have not been entirely idle, not with my son starting competitive soccer this summer and I conducting the comic operas of Gilbert & Sullivan, specifically Trial by Jury and The Sorcerer. The first time in seven years I had conducted anything! And before all that even, with what must seem like an annual pilgrimage over the rollicking seas of the Pacific Ocean to Alaska, as discussed in my previous post. And even a little overnight stay in Santa Cruz, just me and the boy, playing in the surf and collecting seashells and riding the rides of the Boardwalk.

Yes, it's been a somewhat full yet invigorating summer. And it comes to an end, now, as the old routine of work and school comes into full force this week. 

And this picture is from yesterday's sojourn to San Francisco, specifically from the Japanese Tea Garden in Golden Gate Park, a place I had not visited in many years. And while I am not a tea drinker per se (at all, really), it certain seemed apropos to engage in such activity when one is in such a serene and fantastically exotic location as this. And so I drank. Jasmine tea, to be precise. 

And Strawberry Hill was visited and Land's End, with Mile Rock Beach and the ocean lapping at the shore in a constant hypnotic drone. Peaceful. And lunch was had at the Sea Breeze Cafe just south of the windmills of Golden Gate Park. And all of this in the delightful company of one of my oldest and dearest of all friends. Such good times!

I did not go to Ghirardelli. Or anywhere on or even near the Embarcadero. I didn't even consume one single adult beverage. Too much to do and see, and too little time! I guess I'll have to go back again...

But no, I do need to retire so I can do this sort of thing more often. Who wants to pay off my mortgage? I've been trying to coerce the Publishers' Clearing House to handle this small detail for me, but they seem disinclined to select mine as the winning number of any of their sweepstakes. 

So, back to work I go. Year 25! It seems like only yesterday I was a young, bright eyed, enthusiastic youth having recently graduated from college and embarking on this new journey of adulthood.  Or a youth in relative terms anyway; I'm still a youth compared to some and yet so much older than the students I see every day wandering the halls. I mean of course, I've aged a whole quarter of a century and they have remained as young as they ever were! I suppose I should now get to sleep, though it is only just after 9:00pm, yet I find myself tired after a long weekend of frolicking about. 

The Cruise Is Over

Ah, the eve of July 1st, when the fireworks begin in earnest within the narrow subdivisions of our cozy little neighborhood. Time to forget what sleep at a reasonable hour is, whilst the cat learns again about irrational fear. Hopefully they'll stop before midnight tonight...

And we are back from our yearly cruise to the Great North. It was marred somewhat by Connor's taking ill after the first full day, and again on the last two days before returning to our home port in San Francicsco. Bookend illnesses! At least he tested negative for Covid, there's that small comfort anyway. But unfortunately the poor chap spent a good chunk of our vacation hunkered down in our little interior stateroom watching old episodes of Bob's Burgers on the TV and sipping from the little plastic shotglass cup of children's ibuprofen. So much lost time at the ping pong table! And the kids club!

But aside from that it was really a lovely trip, as my YouTube video will attest to. We were blessed with the clearest, sunniest weather anyone could wish for. It was almost...too sunny. But we had some adventures, built some new memories, explored some new land (on bikes no less) - all in all it was a productive use of our summer time. 

We finally got close enough to see Dawes Glacier! That was a rare treat indeed. Thanks global warming!

Though cruises are expensive times to be sitting in your stateroom nursing a child's cold. Maybe we need to transition a bit to doing more land based vacations, where crowds of people are far more dissipated and germs do not run as rampant. I don't know. Maybe we need to do another cruise just to prove we can do it and stay healthy (Connor came home with Covid from last year's trip). 

Well, next week we'll do a little overnight trip to Santa Cruz, perhaps that will make up for some of the lost time. Have to use up some free Boardwalk passes, which I'm sure my little buddy will enjoy.

And of course returning to the real world after sailing through forests and mountains and ice means getting back to work and all of the real-world tasks I temporarily left behind. Mostly for me that means doing score study of the Gilbert and Sullivan operas I'll be conducting towards the end of this month and into the first half of August. Trial by Jury and The Sorcerer. And of course Connor is starting on his new soccer adventure of his competitive team here in Natomas, and before we know it it will be time to get back to school!

Is it ever not busy?

And just to add a little cherry on top, I got a jury notice for standby service the week of July 17. Sure, why not? Add one more thing on to the pile. But really it's not so busy right now, at this very moment, despite all these things. Not really. I found some time today to go for some walks and even a bike ride, to do some shopping and some reading and to watch some TV, and I reviewed my scores a bit and filled out a post-cruise survey (yeah, that took an hour and a half out of my day). And here I am writing a blog post, the first in two months. So it was a productive day today, Saturday, the first of July. A good start for the month!

I mean really, I'd rather be back on the cruise though. No matter how much you see, no matter how much you experience, you always leave wishing you had found time to do a little more. To eat a little more. To drink a little more. To explore a little more. To just sit and watch the world float peacefully by a little more. The trips go by so quick and there's never enough time. 

But alas, the cruise is over! And reality must step back in.

The End Is Nigh

Soda tastes better from a cup. As opposed to the can or bottle from whence it came. I don't know if this is some sort of divine design, or just a mental fabrication of my own. A psychological trick of sorts. Or maybe it just needs to breathe, like a fine wine. In any case, pour it in a glass or mug and sip it slowly! It's just. Better. 

Yes, I'm using phrases now like "from whence it came", inspired entirely by my most recent leisurely reading of Tolkien's The Simarillion.

I don't drink soda very often anymore, but as the temperatures heat up and business is booming at work, sometimes a refreshing bubbly is just what the mid-afternoon needs. And there was a single can of Dr. Pepper in my fridge, having sat there for untold months, just waiting to be consumed.

So I drank it. From a ceramic coffee mug displaying the old state seal as the symbol of the University, back in the days before CSUS had an identity crisis and became Sacramento State. And yes, as I finished the last drop, all was well with the day.

Here's a sand dollar. It's from Ocean Beach, on the western most edge of Golden Gate Park in San Francisco, just south of the Cliff House and Land's End. I went to the coast again last weekend, this time with a new girl (pronounced "woman") I've been seeing, one from a past long ago. For an adventure. And good times. And soaking in the cool ocean air, and the majestic sound of the waves beating tirelessly on the sand. There's lots of sand dollars there, so much so that even with the known fact that a majority of sand dollars found on the beach will be broken, cracked, damaged in some way - you can still find a good handful of them intact and unspoiled. I flung this one, much like a frisbee, allowing it to be free to find its own destiny. It plopped on the moist sand near the edge of the grasping waves, where perhaps it still sits, or else it has likely been drawn back to the sea. From whence it came.

I'll admit, one of the highlights of that trip was finding the gravesite of the ashes of Wyatt Earp, famous lawman of the late 19th century, further immortalized in the late 20th century in the movie Tombstone. Yes, I have gazed upon the burial site of Kurt Russell! But what an interesting character Mr. Earp must have been! The life he lead and the stories he inspired are truly things of legend. And the quote on his tombstone: "...That nothing's so sacred as honor, and nothing so loyal as love!" Ponder that one awhile.

And yes, the end is nigh now for the spring semester at Sac State, with just two more weeks and seventeen concerts to go. Plus a music festival and several other outside group events. We will have had 91 concerts this semester by the time it's all done. 91! I'm not sure if that's a record actually, but boy, here at the end of April it certainly feels like a lot. And it is, it is. And this weekend: two outside group orchestras will take the stage. More work for yours truly. Work work work.

I'm ready for the semester to be over now. 

Birthday Come and Gone

It's early morning, April 1, and my birthday has come and gone. Actual birthdays seem more surreal or at least the concept is more abstract these days, partly because of our long history of celebrating them on the nearest weekend where the family is all free, regardless of the actual date of the celebration. (Hence we celebrated my birthday two weeks ago). And partly because I never quite feel like celebrating my birthday, per se. Not that it's any sort of Peter Pan Syndrome or anything, but I really don't want to get older. I've had enough of aging, the body slowly wearing out, greying, and all the other fun things that naturally come with aging. I don't want to get older anymore. 

Of course, it beats the alternative.

So the State of California saw fit, several years back, to make my birthday a state holiday. Apparently my birthday also corresponds with the birthday of labor leader and civil rights activist, Cesar Chavez. That's okay, he can share it with me. But frankly I was more excited, as I often am, about having a day off from work than about having another birthday, than about ticking off one more year of existence on this rock. Making another trip around the sun, as my father would say.

I followed the best course of action I could think of: I went to Chili's for margaritas. And they've brought back the Margarita of the Month, after a brief hiatus in January, for some unknown reason. Good for them. Good for me. And now I've entered the first day after clicking over to year 48 of my life, I can't help but wonder: what is this month's margarita?? Inquiring minds want to know.

And of course I did what I typically tend to do when I have days off, aside from taking the kid to school (K-12 schools don't see fit to honor Mr. Chavez, or me, by taking this holiday). I ran errands, did some shopping, caught up on laundry, and did my usual walkabout. Steps! It's a rare treat to get over 15,000 on a weekday of a week in which I have my son.

And now here it is, Saturday morning, the weekend just opening up before me, full of possibilities. I'll probably do little, but read and play Minecraft, and walk some more. That is, after the kid's 9:00am soccer game. Oh and also, after needing to stop by work to reset the stage for tonight's guest artist concert. Who plans concerts on a holiday weekend?? Apparently we do. Or I do, at least - I'm the one who coordinates the schedule, so I suppose it's fair to say I keep shooting myself in the foot, as it were, with that one. And yes, it's April, one of the busiest months of the year. 38 concerts this month, plus festivals and other outside group events taking place at Sac State. Sigh. This month is going to be rough. As it always is. 

But for now, here's to the dawning weekend! The sun has risen and it's nearing 7:00am. The boy should be up soon, and it will be time for breakfast soon. And the day will go on. And oh yeah, it was my birthday yesterday. Did I mention that? Well anyways, birthdays come and birthdays go, and if not for the frequent pinging of my Facebook app from people wishing me well yesterday, it probably would have gone by with but little thought from me. 

Just another day in the week, right?

The Post-Spring Break Narrative

Well Spring Break has come and gone, once again a fairly uneventful benchmark in the school year for me. I did take Thursday and Friday off, and spent the days reading and walking and dreaming. And doing laundry. I took a walk on Sunday in the early morning, too early for most respectable people to be out and about. The greenbelt that frames the biking trail, which is basically a glorified irrigation ditch, had a low-lying misty fog hovering above it like an ethereal blanket. Unfortunately I did not capture it in this photo. It was a tule fog really, and briefly transported me to the Middle Earth of Tolkien's fantasy, at least within my own imagination, and it lasted just as long as I could ignore the existence of tract housing framing either side of the trails. Early morning scenery, damp with mist and early morning dewdrops and full of the charm of mystery, certainly can inspire imaginations. And mine does tend to wander wild. And in the physical sense I wander often. Wanderlust, as the Germans might say.

Of course it may have been a contributing factor that this past weekend I watched the entire Hobbit, which is no small feat, being just shy of eight hours in length. So I found myself to be already predisposed into that mindset of fantasy and lush expansive landscapes. And it has been awhile since I did a movie marathon of sorts like that, and on the literary side I am complementing this by working my way through the entire Tolkien saga, starting with The Simarillon. Goals!

The Simarillon, incidentally, is a bit of a rough read. It's laden with names, names, and more names. From people to rivers to lands to mountains, the book throws a myriad of names at you. And everything and everyone has two or three names - a proper historical name, a modern name, other names that different races have used, and on and on. It's no exaggeration to say that hundreds of names get thrown at you...and sons and siblings often have similar names. Finwe and Finarfin and Fingolfin, oh my!

But anyways, on my walk this past Sunday I started drafting this post in my mind. My best writing is done on my walks, and unfortunately most of it is lost by the time I actually sit down to write. The material that actually gets written is a much more clumsy narrative. I suppose I should take a tip from the late Steve Allen and carry a tape recorder around with me, to record my sudden inspirations in real time. I could be a real profound writer if only I could just spread the content of my brain at will on the page. Like jelly on toast.

Perhaps I could be an author, a novelist even, if only I could find the material to write about that anyone would actually want to read.

I suppose I could write about my wanderlust.

But there's little time for that now, as this week it's back to work, whilst the parents have departed just today on a cruise to Hawaii. Good of them! It is fortunately not a particularly busy week, with only three concerts in four days (this Friday being a holiday, not directly for my birthday but might as well be). The calm before the storm is what it is, as April will bring 38 concerts in 28 days. Busy! I'm not looking forward to that. But it is what it is, and frankly it's not even usual for the first month of spring at Sac State. 

If I survive past this week, one more time, one more year, perhaps I'll write again.

Maybe next time I'll have a more cohesive and prepared narrative to share.

Nah, who am I fooling, it will be my usual pedantic ramblings.

10...

Well it's 10 days till my next birthday. Not a milestone of any sorts, but inching incrementally towards one in any case. Two more years till I hit the 50 mark! And this year marks 30 years since my high school graduation. Wow! 30 years! I don't know if anyone is planning a reunion. There's been some scuttlebutt on the alumni sites about one, but it's hard to say. I haven't been to one, not at 10 or 20 or 25 years. I actually only heard about one happening, at 20 years I think, and I heard about it only a few weeks before it supposedly happened. I had a vacation planned already and was out of town. So it goes.

And it's spring break now at Sac State, weeks before my son's and everyone else's, it seems. Tomorrow, Wednesday, is my Friday, as I've taken the rest of the week off. I haven't made any plans per se. But it should be clear weather-wise for my mini-holiday. It's been raining and windy today and for most of the year so far, it seems. Far more rain than we've been getting in recent years. Which is a good thing. California has been parched! It would be nice to hit the summer and not be inundated with all sorts of several drought warnings and water use restrictions and so on. So we are fortunate to have so much rain, at least so far, in 2023.

I like the rain.

I could do without the wind.

And I've just about recuperated from the time change, the "spring forward", which occurred just over a week ago. Honestly I don't know why we observe this antiquated ritual. It seems no one else does either. Lawmakers argue about it every year, and despite having bipartisan support for its dissolution, no one can ever seem to agree to abolish it. There's been rumors - just rumors - that this was supposed to be the last change. We'd go to Daylight Saving Time this month...and then leave it there. I have no idea if this is true. How can anyone know if anything is true these days?

But it took me awhile to adjust this year. I guess I'm getting old. Oddly, I seem to wake up even earlier despite the time being later. I'm backwards. Maybe it's just psychological. Connor had no problems. His internal clock is in far better shape, resetting itself with ease. I now miss those days!

And while people seem to agree we should stop throwing time back and forth like some intangible sports ball, what they can't seem to agree upon is whether we should stay sprung forward or stay fallen back. Of course not, no one can agree on anything these days. I'd much prefer the Daylight Savings Time, the "spring forward". With work work and school occupying so much of Connor's and my time, why wouldn't we want more daylight in the evening? When we're home, and have some free time. Driving in the dark morning isn't so bad. It really isn't. Nor does it last too long anyway, with the days lengthening slowly but surely. Incrementally.

Like my age.

So here I sit, on the eve of the Friday of my spring break week, struggling to find some point of inspiration to share, to justify the supposed wisdom that should accompany my advanced age. Something that someday, perhaps, my son will read back after I'm long gone and fertilizing some flowers in a field somewhere, that will make him realize I was a pretty thoughtful and interesting person. 

I got nothing.

But that's okay, the world is full of examples of wisdom to share with the general populace. Just check the fortune cookies at your local Chinese restaurant. Smart stuff! But as I approach the top of the proverbial hill - not quite there yet as I'm only turning 48 - I do think the view is pretty good. And as if to prove my point, here's a picture from he North Natomas Regional Park, taken two days ago on the one day of the week where it wasn't cloudy and threatening to wash us all away.

The world is pretty! I hope it's still so, when my son hits the age I am now, and he's looking at the state of things and reminiscing about how his life has gone. I hope he finds that it's gone well, or at least as well as mine has gone. Not that it was any sort of picnic; there were good days and bad days, and good times and bad times, but in general it's gone pretty well. Which is a way of saying I can't complain. No regrets!

And in just over a week and a half I'll hit another birthday, which undoubtedly will feel like just another day in the week, just another day in the month. Honestly I've had enough birthdays, I don't need anymore. Save for the purpose of reminding myself that I'm still alive. Perhaps I'll treat myself out to pancakes that day. 

Well there's something to look forward to. Pancakes! In just 10 more days. Let the countdown begin!

The Passage of Time

So I watched a little bit of "The Masked Singer" on Hulu this evening. It's not something I usually watch; normally I steer clear of these reality performance shows, as they tend to just be ridiculously over the top. Basically ornate pieces of irrelevant fluff. But I saw on Facebook the other day about the "legend" who was unmasked on their Season 9 premiere. First of all - Season 9? I can't believe this show has survived this long. But anyways...it was the one and only, the iconic, Dick Van Dyke! 

So I kind of had to watch, just to see and hear this remarkable symbol of my generation, of multiple generations I suppose. Someone like that kind of transcends a few generations, when you think about it.

It's unbelievable that he's still going strong, after all of these years in the entertainment business. I remember him most fondly, as a true Disney should, from the beloved movie Mary Poppins. And he even sang a snippet of Supercalifragilisticexpyaladocius at the end, after he was unmasked to the amazement and delight of both judges and audience. No idea if I spelled that song right. And I'm too lazy to look it up. He did mess up a bit on that though, stumbling on some words at the end of phrases, and falling helplessly behind in the tempo. But can you blame him? He's 97! And he can still dance...a little. A little, at his age, is really a lot. I mean honestly, he's showing his age, but for 97 he's remarkably spritely. I can only hope I'm still that able at that age. Heck, I can only hope that I'm still breathing by then. Just that would be remarkable. That would be the year 2072. Still seems a long way off.

It's amazing when you look back and think about how much time has passed in life. I stopped by Del Taco on the way to work the other day for some breakfast burritos. I've been doing that for awhile now. And the same lady is there, taking orders. It must have been 15 years ago or so, back in the days when I rode the bus into work. I'd spend time reading, doing homework for my masters program, or just watching the world fly by from my seat on the number 30. This was long before Connor. They were relaxing times, when it still seemed like all I had was time to burn. But I'd often get off at the Alhambra stop, dash across the street to Del Taco and place my order. And after a few times of doing this, the lady would recognize me when I came in, and would know my order without me having to place it. 

I was a regular! Like Norm on Cheers. No one called out my name when I entered the room though. No one would have known my name, really. Most of the clientele in there on those brisk mornings were older bedraggled homeless guys, or people working on transitioning to or from being homeless. Everyone is transitioning, from one thing to another. They'd pan handle out on the street for nickels or dimes or quarters, and eventually get enough for a cup of coffee. They still do, though it's a whole new group of individuals now.  

Of course these days I do the drive through; no time in life to take the leisurely one-hour bus trek into work from North Natomas. But she's still there, the lady behind the counter, after all these years. And I see the flicker of recognition in her smile as she greets me at the window. 15 years later! Still going strong. They really should have made her manager by now.

I don't even know her name.

And of course I've been at Sac State for far longer than that. And I've been fantasizing for years about eventually retiring and finally taking my leave from the grueling routine of trudging in to work each day. It's certainly much closer these days, in my 24th year on staff. Gets closer every day. And the kids - I call the college students "kids" now, that's how old I am - get younger and younger every year, it seems. They were my contemporaries, back in the day, when I was a bright-eyed young staff member full of ambition and ideas. Now I'm so far removed from their generation, just like the old timers on faculty were when I was a student there.

Time just keeps marching on and on, whether we like it or not. It's on its own pace, has its own agenda. We're just along for the ride, really. And it's been quite a ride, so far. So many days and months and years have just nonchalantly ticked by. You hardly notice as it's happening. Only in reflection does it gain status as something more monumental and meaningful. And time just keeps moving on.

Six Weeks In

Well it's a good thing I don't make New Year's resolutions, at least not out loud or in any way that anyone else could hold me accountable for it. If I had, I'm sure that writing more in this blog would have been in there. And then...six weeks go by and it's now mid-February. Wow! Time flies when you're having fun?

Well, I did have fun. No, really. I managed to get myself on a four-night cruise in January out of Long Beach, a recreation of my infamous January 2020 trip which ended with the beginning of a pandemic. Coincidentally, of course. I swear I had nothing to do with that. But this time, threatening storms and choppy seas led to the cancellation of our stop in Catalina. Which was quite a bummer, as I was looking forward to that stop. And that meant that we just spent an extra day circling around on nth ocean, going nowhere. Well. It was a good time for cocktails, in any case.

And food. I ate a lot of food. 

And just this past weekend, I spent a day in San Francisco with one of my oldest friends. Not old in the raw numeric sense, per se (although she IS a month older than me...). But old in the sense that I first met her in...1987 or so. A long, long time ago. 35 years! And there's not really many people from those days I still connect with. Like, ever. And we hit Fort Point with its amazing views of the Golden Gate Bridge, and Ghirardelli Square for its Nob Hill Chills, and had dinner at the oldest Italian restaurant in the United States: Fior d'Italia.

But this was a trip that was 29 years in the making, actually. I went through some old letters from her from our college years and found one from 1994 in which she referenced looking forward to going to San Francisco someday with me. Who knew that "someday" meant 29 years? I hope that that's not a strict figure, as I don't know if I can wait another 29 years for a second trip. And we have to hit Land's End and Golden Gate Park next! And maybe Ocean Beach.

Well, that basically sums up the least six weeks. Right now,  I'm cuddled up in bed with Pawn Stars running in the background, the cat sleeping gently but lightly an arm's length away. And the boy is sprawled out in his bed down the hall, on the verge of snoring. I suppose the real question now is, will I keep writing here throughout the year? Or retire from this aspect of my life? Take an extended hiatus and compose a great American novel? Who knows, who knows.

All I know for sure, in this moment, is that it's Wednesday. Tomorrow is Thursday. Then Friday. That's how the week goes in the life of this average American guy: just day by day.

Anyways. Back to Pawn Stars.