Double Take

KFCorginalrecipe7000

2011-07-03T13:01:00.000-07:00

2008-12-10T22:30:00.000-08:00

5 Blocks

2008-10-05T20:20:00.000-07:00

What I saw today... within the distance of 5 blocks.

On the first block, a lady is waiting for the bus. The flowers resting on top of the bag and the elongated shadows against the bright sun stopped me at my track.

I called this one, "Spring Time Fresh Guadalupe". On the second block, I found the juxtaposition of the religious mural and the advertisement of household products thought provoking and humorous at the same time.

Two blocks away, I found this newspaper man taking a doze in the middle of the day. He was oblivious to anyone passing by. It must have been a good dream.

Painting on the ceiling of an old theater turned into a swapmeet. Read an article in L.A. Times a few months back on how developers want to renovate it and evict the tenants .

T R A

2008-10-04T22:26:00.000-07:00

Burrito

2008-09-24T21:12:00.000-07:00

2008-09-24T21:03:00.001-07:00

Daughter

2008-09-20T23:20:00.000-07:00

Can I Still Be My Mother's Daughter?
by Barbara Lynn Terry

Can I still be my mother's daughter?
Can we still bond together?
Is there still a chance we may succeed,
In being the friends each of us need?

I am in my mid life now;
But can I still show,
How much of a daughter I can be,
Even tho this girl she cannot see?

Can she still from Heaven's view,
See my aura's female hue?
Can we still accept each other,
As mother and wonderful daughter?

Can we bond together in our souls,
Making each one of us complete and whole?
Is it possible for though she's not here,
To bond in our souls without fear?

Can I still without fear and bother,
Be my mother's daughter?

Dog Day Afternoon

2008-09-09T20:36:00.000-07:00

Echo Park Lotusless Festival

2008-07-06T17:54:00.000-07:00

I took a walk around Echo Park, the site of the annual Lotus Festival. Every year there is a boat race, food and various cultural entertainment, as well as art and photo contest. Visitors from all over southern California make the trip to see the lotus bloom during this time of the year. It has been a couple of years since I attended the festival. The last time I went, the lotus had a late blossom. While it was disappointing, at least there was lotus to see. When I went there for a preview this morning, there was no lotus at all. What I saw was a park maintenance worker fishing out sludge and floating garbage out of the water. I asked him about happened to the lotus, and he told me that the water had been contaminated. I thought to myself, "how could they have a lotus festival without lotus?" It's like having a birthday party for someone who's dead. Nonetheless, it's still a nice place to take a stroll or nap under a shade. I snapped off these couple of shots while I was there.

Fashion Girl

2008-06-29T20:41:00.000-07:00

I walked around the fashion district in downtown today. I crossed the street and there she was propped against side of the mobile fruit stand smiling back at me. Perhaps it was the smell of the freshly grilled hot dog wrapped around by the little hand of the child that elicited that mysterious smile. Or maybe even she knows that the difference between a lady and a flower girl (or a fruit girl, for that matter) is not how she behaves but how she's treated.

Star Struck

2008-04-20T22:53:00.001-07:00

My friend and I went to Hollywood on Saturday to do some people watching...

"Marilyn Marilyn"

"A Star is Born"

"Mapquest"

"Sushi for Susie"

Take a Walk on the Wild Side

2008-04-13T00:18:00.000-07:00

Tour Guide

2008-04-06T14:05:00.000-07:00

What I saw today...

"Blue Cup"

"Importer"

"Encased Doll"

"Red Envelope"

"China"

Go Fly a Kite

2008-03-31T20:35:00.000-07:00

I had a rare day off. The community center where I work closed today to observe Cesar Chavez Day.

I stopped by a Vietnamese sandwich shop on Broadway where I bought their "special" sandwich on the menu. If you haven't had Vietnamese sandwich before, you're in for a real treat. They start out with a warmly toasted French roll. They fill it with your choice of chicken, turkey, or slices of pork. Then they top it off with julienne carrots, pickled cucumber and radish, and cilantro. Would you believe it that all the sandwiches are only 2 bucks each? Add another 2 bucks for a cold drink and you got yourself a meal. If you haven't had Vietnamese coffee, I can tell you that they are the best! Instead of adding cream, they use condensed milk, which is a thick syrup. They also use condensed milk in making a well-known Mexican cake called "Tres Leches", which translates to "three (kinds of) milk".

After eating my snack, I decided to take a walk in the newly developed state park in the industrial section of Chinatown. There I met Jerry who was flying his dragon kite on the grass field. He was spending the sunny afternoon relaxing at the park with his wife, children, and dog. He told me that one of his favorite places to fly a kite is at Redondo Beach where the wind is strong. Watching him having so much fun reminded me of when I was a kid. We neighborhood children used to have kite fights with each other. First, we would take glass bottles and break them until they turned into powered glass. Next, we would apply glue onto the string. Then we dipped the string onto the powdered glass. The fun begins when we fly our kites in the air and try to cut the other person's string until one of our kites falls to the ground.

Jerry introduced me to this son, Juan, who is attending a magnet school. According to him, his school is teaching him how to speak Chinese.

Flowers blooming at the park.

For some reason, there were huge, empty wooden boxes around the bend of the trail. My best guess is that they had once contained seeds that had since been planted. You can see the downtown Los Angeles skyline in the backdrop.

Chi' town

2008-03-30T12:43:00.001-07:00

Images from Chinatown this morning...

Red alarm bell. Man holder child in background.

The newspaper man opens shop.

A hot bowl of fish porridge and Chinese donuts hits the spot.

Front entrance of newly constructed apartment in Chinatown.

Sincere.

Easter Sunday

2008-03-23T16:22:00.000-07:00

I took my camera out on Easter Sunday. Here are a few images I captured.

Various buckles are on display for sale at a stall inside Grand Central Market.

Freshly cut watermelons remind us that summer is just around the corner.

RCA dog wishes hottie would take him home.

Homeless man shines the shoes of a police officer guarding a film set.

Sound Bites

2008-02-13T00:36:00.000-08:00

I was in my office when Steve told me about the frantic activity down the block. The police had closed off the streets- a clear indication of a shooting or serious investigation of some kind. As a program leader of the Jr. Aztecs, Steve takes at-risk youths on hiking trips as a way to steer them away from getting involved with gangs. When he saw the commotion that afternoon, he immediately wanted to find out what had happened. Steve came back about twenty minutes later to inform me that indeed there had been a shooting. A boy on a bike had been chased down the street by an opposing gang member and was shot three times in the back. He didn't survive. He was only 14 years old.

Cypress Park is a predominately low-income neighborhood in Northeast Los Angeles. It's an area that I've worked in for the past five years. Over that time I've come to developed a fondness for the community and the people that lived in it. The neighborhood appears so peaceful on the surface, especially during the daytime. In the morning you see mothers pushing baby strollers on the sidewalk. In the afternoon you see parents walking their children home from school and stopping by the local supermarket to pick up last minute groceries. People used to feel safe to come out during the day. Used to.

Someone asked me if I knew the boy. "Jose", I was told. His name did not registered in my mind. "You know *****? It was his brother that was shot." Oh shit. My thought immediately turned to ***** as I recalled the last conversation we had together. The two brothers came to my program two years ago, and on that particular day ***** had gotten into an altercation with one of the other kids. I sat him down in my office to find out what was going on. He started to cry as he told me about his brother's incarceration. He missed him very much, and the uncertainty of his fate had been weighing heavily on his mind. He apologized for his behavior and promised to do better. That was the last time I saw him. There were a couple of occasions when I ran into his mother at the supermarket, and she asked me if I would be willing to take him back. I told her that I would, but they never came back to see me.

I really didn't know Jose well. I remembered him as quiet kid who always kept to himself. You keep your eyes on the loud, rambunctious ones. They're hard to miss. But you worry about the quiet ones even more. The ones that say the least usually have the most to say. What made the killing even more tragic is the fact that just prior to the shooting, the family had planned to move to a safer neighborhood. The only thing that was holding them back was the tax refund check they were waiting to receive so they could pay for the move.

It's only fitting that it rained on the day of Jose's funeral. Although I was not able to attend, I was told that close friends, family members, and caring people from the community went to give support to the family. Members of Jose's gang were also there. The gatherers watched in dismay as members of his gang paid tribute to him by proudly placing items of their gang affiliation next to him. Some people questioned why the parents would even allow the very individuals who contributed to their son's death to participate in his funeral. Those who had the opportunity to hear the mother speak came away with the impression that she was in denial. It seemed that she could not accept the fact that her son was a gangster. He was her flesh and blood. When she first held him as an infant, she also cradled in her arms her hopes and dreams for him. All that she is left clutching now was his lifeless body.

Violence comes in waves like the aftershocks of an earthquake. As is the case with aftershocks, they are sometimes more jarring and vicious than the initial jolt. The week following Jose's murder there were three additional shootings, the last of which was fatal. A thirty-six year old man had just picked up his granddaughter from Kindergarten when school ended. As they headed home together, he held her in his arms. That's when unidentified individuals pulled up in a car and started shooting. The man was hit numerous times at close range and dropped the child on the ground. It was a miracle the little girl was not killed. An alert passerby saw what had happened and pulled the child to safety. The man was not so lucky. The initial report was that he had been shot 10 to 12 times. He was rushed to the hospital where he was announced dead.

A few days later a mother whose daughter used to come to my after school program came to see me. "George, do you know the man that was shot?" No, I said. "He is *******'s dad. "The doctor said that he had so many holes on his body that he looked like a Swiss cheese. "When ****** found out, she kept saying, "My heart is dead, mom. My heart is dead. First my grandfather, and now my father." Fuck. When ******* first came to my program about three years ago, she was an extremely shy kid. She did not play with the other children or interact with adults. When you asked her a question, she would not say more than one or two words in response. I rarely saw her smile, except when her mother picked her up from the program in the evening. Mother and daughter were inseparable. She was a single mother struggling to provide for her daughter. She was out of work but enrolled herself in school in hopes of bettering their future. From my understanding, the father of the child was not involved in their life. I've also heard that he had fathered six or seven other children. Then you begin to understand why the little girl might be the way that she is. What a shame. She was making such good progress. Just about the same time her mother started dating a new man, we noticed that she was happier and more outgoing. From what I could tell, he has been a positive influence on her. He regularly picked her up from the program and always spoke to her like a loving father would to a daughter. In fact, the mother told me that she calls him her 'dad'. The mother plans to enroll her into my program once again when the new session begins in the next few weeks. I am concerned about how the little girl will respond after this tragedy. Will she continue to emerge and grow out of her shell, or will this push her back into seclusion? I don't know. We can only try our best to help her through it.

The community organized a fund raiser for Jose's family. Together it raised over $1,600 from the taco plates that were sold to the many supporters who came to the community center luncheon. When I think about it, it's just so surreal. Families in affluent neighborhoods have bake sales to raise money for field trips and soccer uniforms. Here, we have car washes and taco plates to raise money for funerals. As in the saying goes, we live in one world but we all live in different ones.

Roots

2008-02-07T22:48:00.000-08:00

You traveled
a thousand miles and
search far and wide
to steal a glimpse
of beauty,
only to find it
a few steps
from where you
began and realize
it has always been there.

No Rain On My Parade

2008-01-27T19:04:00.000-08:00

It has been raining all week. I'm one of the people who doesn't mind the rain, as long as it doesn't happen on the weekend. I was stuck inside my studio on Saturday after doing my usual errands- doing my laundry and grocery shopping. I usually reserve Saturday afternoon to have lunch with my mom. However, she was visiting my grandmother who was recovering from ovarian cancer surgery in the hospital. I took the extra time I had to clean up the remnants of the party I had this past Monday- empty beer bottles, left over drinks bathed in melted ice-water in the cooler, and piles of dishes left drying in the kitchen sink.

When you're stuck inside the house, there are only so many things you can do to keep your mind occupied. You can read a book, watch television, play some music, surf the Internet, talk on the phone with a friend, and such. I really appreciate the freedom I have as a bachelor. I can come and go as I please. I'm not accountable to anyone but myself. If I make a mess, there is no one to tell me to pick up my things. If I don't feel like talking, I can just lock myself in my room and shut the world out. However, there are also times like today when you're rained in that you wish there is someone in your life that you can have company with. It would be nice to be able to lay in bed together, pop in a DVD, brew up some hot cocoa, top it off with whipped cream and chocolate syrup, and just chat about nothingness while the movie plays in the background.

Instead of being cooped up in my studio for another day, I decided to head to Chinatown. I needed to get out and get some fresh air, even if it meant getting wet while doing so. I took my point-and-shoot camera with me knowing that I might capture some interesting images in the rain. I first stopped by my favorite noodle house in the plaza. I ordered a hot bowl of beef brisket and tendon noodle soup with a side order of won ton dumpling. It really hit the spot, especially on a chilly day like this. Chinese restaurants are not known for the quality of their customer service. I had to ask three times before I got my cup of ice water. I thought about not leaving a tip at first, but I try to give the workers the benefit of the doubt. They're overworked and underpaid. To me, I won't miss a dollar or two, but to them, their tips are their livelihood.

After lunch I wanted to get some pastries at the bakery to satisfy my sweet tooth. But first, I stopped by a Chinese supermarket to purchase some ingredients for the curry chicken dish I had planned to make for dinner. I needed to pick up an onion and some mushrooms. I thought it would taste better if I used fresh mushrooms, so I went to the vegetable aisle. While heading there, I accidentally bumped into an attractive woman holding a shopping basket. I immediately apologized to her, and I noticed that when we made eye-contact, she held her gaze for a while. Just so happened that when I went to the check-out to pay for my food, she was the customer right ahead of me. When she realized who I was, she tried to start a conversation with me. As that was a happening, an old man in front of her came back in line with another item he had gone back to get. She muttered her disapproval under her breath. Instead of letting it go, she admonished him to get to the back of the line. I would understand it if the old man held up the line, but the cashier hadn't even gotten to him. Before the incident, I thought about the great opportunity I had to talk with her, but after what happened I had lost interest. I just couldn't see myself being with someone so impatient and inconsiderate.

As I left Wonder Bakery with my Chinese donut and soy milk in hand, the beads of rain covering the outside tables caught my eyes as did the abandoned Chinese chess pieces. Before I took the photo, I could imagine the players running for cover when the rain first fell, leaving the match in suspension. The plaza is usually bustling with tourists during the day, but on a damp afternoon like this, the only evidence of life were the merchants who made their living in the plaza, such as the fortune teller who sells not of souvenirs but he sells you on a bill of good just the same.

Any Reason is a Good Reason

2008-01-23T23:31:00.000-08:00

On Martin Luther King Jr. Day, my friends Jovy, Agnes, and Melissa came over to my place for a small party. There was no particular cause for celebration. No one had a birthday. Nobody had a graduation or work promotion. To me the fact that we all had a day off was good enough of a reason to get together. That's why I named the invitation the "Any reason is a good reason to party party." I had intended to have the gathering in my backyard, but it had been raining all morning. Because of that we decided to take the festivity indoor. Melissa was the first person to arrive. A couple of days before, she had convinced me to go ahead with the party as scheduled despite the ominous weather forecast of showers throughout the day. I was a little hesitant at first, but after thinking about it, I really liked her idea. Even if it rains or shines, whether one person or one hundred people show up, we were going to make our time together an enjoyable one.

Melissa brought a homemade pasta dish to the party. Having gone to school and lived in Italy for an extended time, she's not only fluent in conversing the language but also accomplished in the ways of Italian cooking. I wouldn't know the difference between linguine and fettucini, so I won't be able to tell you the name of the dish. What I can say for sure is that it was quite tasty. I liked the creamy, cheesy, tomato sauce with bits of sausages baked into the pasta. Besides, she took the time to make it from scratch, which made it even more special. One of my fondest memories as a child was coming home after school and finding my mom in the kitchen stir frying up a plate of noodle for me to eat. I remember being so satisfied to have eaten a meal that she had prepared for me. It wasn't so much the taste of her cooking that was memorable. More than anything else, it was the wonderful feeling of being taken care by someone you care about that I cherished the most.

My "bui mui" or cousin Agnes arrived about an hour later. Well, she's not my actual cousin by blood. It's a nickname I had given her because our last names share the same pronunciation-"Tam". I tease her that she is not from the true Tam clan, because the spelling of her last name has an extra 'h', which makes her "Tham". According to my uncle, it can be quite an ordeal to visit family members in China. In local custom, anyone who shares the same last name as you do in a village is considered your "brother" or "sister" whether you know them or not. As such, they expect you to offer them money and gifts when you visit from America. It is not unusual for total strangers to follow you to the restaurant, sit at your table, and order meals for themselves! I heard of the saying that it takes a village to raise a child, and apparently, it takes a brother/sister to raise a village too!

My friend Jovy was the last to arrive. I felt both surprised and honored that she came, because by her own admission she has commitment-phobia. The closest you will ever get to nailing her down on anything is a definite maybe. Jovy will be moving out of the area in the next couple of weeks, so I'm glad that we've all had the chance to hang out before she goes.

I had a memorable time at the party, from seeing the girls make homemade ice-cream with zip-lock bags to Jovy teaching Melissa how to do Salsa. Jovy also treated us to a wonderful piano performance that you see here.

Picture of Peace

2008-01-14T00:44:00.001-08:00

My program had a family picnic this past December at the Santa Fe Dam in the City of Irwindale. I had gone there the day before to pick the best spot for the outing. As I walked along the sandy shore, I came across an empty life guard station. The picture you see here is from the view of the tower. As you can see, the place was deserted on that day, except for some ducks waddling across the lake off camera. It's a peaceful setting that most people would readily trade to be a part of- a welcome respite from the stress and daily grinds. As inviting and glorious the vista may have been in its natural wonders, it was meant to serve as a necessary but temporary need, which is a momentary escape.

Being in a serene environment such as this reminds me of a story I heard long ago:

There once was a King who offered a prize to the artist who would paint the best picture of peace. Many artists tried. The King looked at all the pictures, but there were only two he really liked and he had to choose between them.

One picture was of a calm lake. The lake was a perfect mirror, for peaceful towering mountains were all around it. Overhead was a blue sky with fluffy white clouds. All who saw this picture thought that it was a perfect picture of peace.

The other picture had mountains, too. But these were rugged and bare. Above was an angry sky from which rain fell and in which lightening played. Down the side of the mountain tumbled a foaming waterfall. This did not look peaceful at all. But when the King looked, he saw behind the waterfall a tiny bush growing in a crack in the rock. In the bush a mother bird had built her nest. There, in the midst of the rush of angry water, sat the mother bird on her nest... perfect peace.

Which picture do you think won the prize?

The King chose the second picture. Do you know why? "Because," explained the King, "peace does not mean to be in a place where there is no noise, trouble, or hard work. Peace means to be in the midst of all those things and still be calm in your heart. That is the real meaning of peace."

2008-01-13T22:31:00.001-08:00

Today, my friend Josh and I went to Hollywood to do some people watching. He usually works on weekends between two jobs, so it's a real treat for me to be able to spend time shooting photography together. We made our first stop at Famima, which Josh described as a Japanese 7-11 convenient store. What initially caught my eyes was the unusual poster display outside the store of Chinese style steam buns. I expected to see something like that in Chinatown, yes, but in Hollywood?

Being a generous guy that he is, Josh treated me to a sparkling cider and a curry meat bun. For himself, he got a chocolate milk and a fried chicken bun. While we were enjoying our snacks, I noticed two girl friends having a conversation at the sidewalk table. I really liked the soft lighting on one of the them, so I took this picture of her through the glass window from where we sat. She looked so contemplative, lost in thought.

2008-01-13T22:28:00.001-08:00

This is Rob. He is one of the many street entertainers on Hollywood Boulevard. I consider him a "real" entertainer in the sense that he actually has some talents. He plays the guitar and can carry a tune. While I was there, he put his own twist on John Mellencamp's Jack and Diane and other catchy songs they used to play on the radio. He also sang an original song he wrote called, "The Man". In contrast, the majority of street entertainers on Hollywood Boulevard only put on costumes of popular stars and movie characters like Marilyn Monroe, Dark Vader, and Elmo, and make their living posing pictures with tourists.

2008-01-13T22:27:00.000-08:00

I'm not sure if this gal was trying to dress like Little Orphan Annie, but I love the huge 'fro' she's wearing. I took this shot of the sketch artist doing a caricature of her.

2008-01-13T22:26:00.000-08:00

Josh is taking a short break outside one of many shops that lined Hollywood Blvd.

2008-01-13T22:23:00.000-08:00

A girl in bright yellow pants walks by a mural of old time movies stars as Chaplin, Brando, Dean, Taylor, and others look on. Can you spot others?

Last Christmas

2007-12-05T22:54:00.000-08:00

I received a message while I was out of my office last week. A lady had come into the Center to speak to me about a picture that I had taken last Christmas. Every year the community center where I work holds a toy giveaway to families in the surrounding area. Approximately a hundred or so families come through on that day to get free toys donated by individuals and businesses. Everybody contributes to make this event possible. For example, a student who attends the continuation high school at the Center volunteered to don a white beard and costume to play Santa Claus. A mother who used to run an aerobics class at the Center painted the backdrop. The firemen down the street collected and delivered the toys. Blanca, the office manager, along with my staff and volunteers worked at the registration table to made sure that everyone is orderly. Luis, a kid in my after school program, posed as a Christmas present for the picture taking session. As usual, I was behind the camera. After the children received their toys, they were given the opportunity to take a family picture with Santa Claus to commemorate the joyous occasion. Some of the guests come back a week later to pick up their picture. Others do not. This picture you see here has been buried in my hard drive amongst hundreds of other nameless images, untouched and forgotten until now. What I did not know when this picture was taken was that the father in this family was going through cancer treatment at the time. Sadly to say, he was not able to survive long enough to celebrate Christmas with his family this year. It's especially hard during this time of the year. The wife had come back to the community center in hopes that we still have the picture from last Christmas. I am happy to say that the children have that picture now. And though it may not bring back their father, I am hopeful it will bring back some happy memories to what turned out to be the last Christmas they spent together.

2007-11-23T00:19:00.001-08:00

2007-11-20T06:58:00.001-08:00

This is Tue Nam.
Although we were raised
in different homes,
we are brothers.

2007-11-20T06:56:00.000-08:00

...Because being brothers is not about sharing the same last name.

2007-11-20T06:54:00.001-08:00

...It's about looking out for each other
as if we were family.

2007-11-20T06:53:00.002-08:00

"The beginning of love is to let those we love be perfectly themselves, and not to twist them to fit our own image. Otherwise we love only the reflection of ourselves we find in them."
-Thomas Merton

2007-11-20T06:52:00.001-08:00

Hanging out with "Noisy" with our matching outfits. We're that tight. That's why he's my dawg!

2007-11-20T06:51:00.001-08:00

2007-11-20T06:50:00.001-08:00

2007-11-20T06:49:00.001-08:00

2007-11-20T06:48:00.001-08:00

2007-11-20T06:45:00.001-08:00

2007-11-14T21:10:00.001-08:00

"Arms Of A Woman" by Amos Lee

I am at ease in the arms of a woman.
Although now,
most of my days I spend alone.
A thousand miles,
from the place I was born.
But when she wakes me,
she takes me back home.

Now, most days,
I spend like a child.
Who's afraid of ghosts in my mind.
I know, there ain't nothing out there.
I'm still afraid to turn on the lights.

I am at ease in the arms of a woman.
Although now,
most of my days a I spend alone.
A thousand miles,
the place i was born.
When she wakes me,
she takes me back home.

A thousand miles,
the place I was born.
When she wakes me,
she takes me back home.

I am at ease in the arms of a woman.
Although now,
most of my days I spend alone.
A thousand miles,
from the place I was born.
When she wakes me,
she takes me..
Ya, when she wakes me,
she takes me back home.
When she wakes me,
she takes me back home.

Here is a great bluesy interpretation of the same song by Ernie Halter.

Rodolfo sang this song with a rock edge. The way he looks and sounds reminds me a bit of Jon Bon Jovi.

Ccarleto gave this song a country feel that is definitely worth checking out.

You can get the chords of the songs here. I put a capo on the 7th fret of my guitar when I play this song.

All Grown Up

2007-11-11T21:25:00.003-08:00

I took my friend Hoon and his family on a photo shoot at a park today. The girls received traditional Korean dresses from their grandfather as birthday gifts, and Hoon wanted to send pictures back home to him in Korea. Here's a little funny exchange between Lana, Hoon, and me....

Lana: George.
George: Yes, Lana?
Lana: I put on my socks.
George: You mean, you put them on by yourself?!
Lana: Yeah.
George: Good job! High five! (Gives Lana a high five)
Lana: I put on my socks yesterday.
George: You put them on by yourself yesterday too?
Lana: Yeah.

(Hoon joins in the conversation)

Hoon: Lana's a big girl now...putting on socks all by herself.
Lana: Yeah, Lana's a big girl.
Hoon: Lana could move out of the house now, huh, Lana?
Lana: Yeah.

2007-11-11T21:25:00.001-08:00

Blind Sided

2007-11-07T19:41:00.000-08:00

I was going to tell Jenny how disappointed I was in her. I've always pride myself in being the kind of supervisor who was fair-minded, flexible, and shows genuine care for the welfare of my staff. Whenever one of them wants to take extra time off, arrive a little late to work, or was forgetful to follow up on something I had requested, I try not to be too harsh or critical on them. Although they occasionally make mistakes, I know that my success would not be possible without their hard work and loyalty to me. I look for opportunities to show my appreciation, whether it is taking them on an impromptu trip to the local Dairy Queen from some ice-cream or thanking them for putting in the extra effort. That's the reason I was a bit irritated when I got back from lunch today and saw Jenny chatting on the cell phone. I didn't make a big deal about it. We all take personal calls from time to time. But I became more annoyed when she got up, continued to carry on her conversation, and disappeared for more than ten minutes. All the while she was gone, I was running thoughts in my head on how I would reproach her... "Look Jenny, I don't mind it if you've got all your work done. But I've left numbers for you to call for the past two days, and you still haven't done it."

But before I was able to verbalize it to her when she finally returned, she immediately apologized for what had happened. "I'm sorry... I was on the phone with the mother of my friend," she paused. "She told me that my friend got into a car accident and passed away." Jenny began to cry softly. "My friend called me at four in the morning to ask me to pick her up. She had been out drinking with some friends. I told her that I can't pick her up.... I've picked her up many times before, but this was four in the morning." In Jenny's mind, she felt partly responsible for this tragedy. Hearing this feels like getting punched in the stomach. All the air was let out of me along with the words of criticism I was ready to deliver. Now, I sat frozen at my chair, not quite knowing what to say or do. I made a feeble attempt to ease her guilt. "It's not your fault... It's not your responsibility," I reasoned. "It was your friend's choice to get behind the wheel. She could have called someone from her family or got a cab." I shouldn't have said that, I remember thinking. I shouldn't have said anything. Better to have just said 'I'm sorry' and be there for her, I thought. "I know...," Jenny wondered. But what if? I asked Jenny if she would like to take the rest of the day off, but she declined. Perhaps it was better this way. Work may keep her mind off her grief, even if it were temporary.

I thought about what happened today. How many times have I made assumptions about another person's behavior without knowing all the facts? You think that you know of their motives, their feelings, their inner thoughts, their fears, their opinions about you and you of them and so forth, but you really don't know unless you ASK and dig deeper. Maybe you're too afraid to find out the truth, so you avoid asking. Maybe you have too much pride. Too lazy to ask. Or maybe you're just too concerned with your own needs to hear above the noise. I am reminded of a story I read long ago in which passengers on a train became increasingly irate at a father who allowed his young children to played wildly on the train. When an angry passenger confronted him, the man apologized for his children's behavior. He explained that they are usually well-behaved. However, they have just come from the hospital that morning where the children said their last goodbye to their mother who lost her battle with a terminal illness.

True Passion

2007-11-06T21:08:00.001-08:00

One of my favorite pass time is to watch aspiring musicians do original and cover tunes on Youtube. I am simply blown away by the vast talents out there being broadcast from America's bedrooms and basements. I want to share with you a video of a very gifted singer named Jeremy, a.k.a "passion", singing a cover song of Ryan Cabrera's "True".

If you want to try your hand at playing this song, you can get the tablature here.

"True" by Ryan Cabrera

I won't talk
I won't breathe
I won't move till you finally see
that you belong with me

you might think
I don't look
but deep inside in the corner of my mind
I'm attatched to you
mmmm

I'm weak
it's true
cause I'm afraid to know the answer
do you want me too?
cause my heart keeps falling faster

[chorus]
I've waited all my life to cross this line
to the only thing thats true
so I will not hide
i'ts time to try anything to be with you
all my life I've waited
this is true

you don't know
what you do
everytime you walk into the room
I'm afraid to move

I'm weak
it's true
I'm just scared to know the ending
do you see me too?
do you even know you met me!

[Chorus]
I've waited all my life to cross this line
to the only thing thats true
so I will not hide
its time to try anything to be with you
all my life I've waited
this is true

I know when I go
I'll be on my way to you
the way that's true

[chorus]
I've waited all my life to cross this line
to the only thing thats true
so I will not hide
its time to try anything to be with you
all my life I've waited
this is true

Treasure Hunter

2007-11-01T22:05:00.001-07:00

This is Rudy, a treasure hunter. He digs for valuables once lost, hidden beneath the surface waiting to be rediscovered.

For the past weeks, my car smelled of burnt motor oil after long drives. I decided to take it in for a precautionary check up. While waiting for my car to be worked on, I took a walk at a nearby park to pass time. It was there I met Rudy and his wife Mary Jo, a couple of retirees turned real-life treasure hunters. Rudy has only been treasure hunting for about 3 months. For the previous 35 years, however, he had worked for the Los Angeles Unified School District as an engineer, a job that he treasured (no pun intended) because he had so much "fun" doing it. Now that he's retired, he spends his days traveling to various local playgrounds with his wife to play the game of hide and seek.

I sat on top of a wall and watched them work methodically sweep their metal detectors from side to side near the swings. Whenever the detector recognized the presence of a metal substance, it would emit different pitch sounds depending on what kind of metal it is. Whenever that happened, Rudy would take his trowel and gently dig below the surface to reveal what is underneath. Most of the time he ends up with duds, like pieces of foil paper, bottle caps, and soda can tabs. But in rare cases, like the first time he went treasure hunting, he discovered a large diamond ring. Recently, he found a beautiful graduation necklace with the name of the school inscribed. I asked Rudy what he plans to do with it. "I'll put it in the 'lost & found' section of Craigslist," he replied. "Maybe someone will see it, and I'll return it." These are the moments that keep him going long after the last beep has sounded. Then there are days like today when all the pennies and nickels he collected couldn't even get him a cup of coffee at Starbucks. Most of us would simply toss back the pennies we find. Not Rudy. Whether it was a penny or nickel, he stored it away in his pocket. I couldn't make sense why anyone would bother to save such seemingly worthless objects."What are you going to do with all those change?" I asked Rudy. "I don't know... I'll put them in a jar and give it to my grandson," he answered.

"Do you see where it says penny, nickel, quarter, and dollar?" he pointed to the monitor on his metal detector. "It doesn't know exactly what's underneath. It only gives you a good idea of what you might find." When I think about what Rudy said, I suppose that we are all treasure hunters one way or another, searching for that elusive find waiting to be discovered. We may end up with a lump of coal or a diamond in the rough. These are the chances we take. There are no guarantees, only possibilities. It takes time, patience, and perseverance. Above all, it starts with the leap of faith that the best is yet to be discovered.

2007-11-01T22:01:00.001-07:00

Munchkins in My Pumkin

2007-10-31T21:13:00.001-07:00

The Scariest Thing

by Mairi Tereas Gallagher

Some things are scary
Others are not,
Like ghosts and goblins,
And things that rot

Cats and dogs are not scary
At all,
All they do is play chase
And catch a ball.

But the scariest thing
Creeps around at night,
Looking for victims
To scratch and bite.

It hides its face
It's too ugly to see,
It rules all the monsters,
Both tall and wee.

Those who've seen his face,
Their eyes burst and bleed,
They beg for mercy
"Spare us, spare us," they plead.

But he's not a giver
He takes what he finds,
All sorts of people
Both sightseers and blind.

You've got the picture,
That he is the king
Of everything scary,
Every little scary thing.

So watch out at night 'cause if
By him you're seen,
He'll give you an evil grin
And say...

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

A Little More

2007-10-29T23:26:00.001-07:00

"The difference between ordinary and extraordinary is a little extra." -Jimmy Johnson

Tony Melendez is an ordinary individual who does extraordinary things. What's amazing is not so much what he is able to do, but that he can do it with so much less. And with his example, he tells us that, with a little extra, we can accomplish so much more.

To see one of Tony's performances, go here.

Tom Boy

2007-10-29T00:04:00.000-07:00

Dia De Los Muertos

2007-10-27T22:20:00.001-07:00

Where would you go if you want to party with, say, a few thousand of your closest friends? At the cemetery, of course! Each year Hollywood Forever Cemetery hosts a special event with dance, music, art show, live performances, and food to celebrate Dia de Los Muertos.

Dia de los muertos, also known as "Day of the Dead", is a traditional Mexican holiday when friends and families celebrate and honor loved ones who have passed away. To commemorate their life, they create elaborate altars with offerings, flowers, pictures, and personal items that used to belong to the deceased. A young girl was asked by a reporter what Dia de los Muertos meant to her and who is the inspiration for her altar. She answered that she created it as a remembrance of her sister who committed suicide. Her participation in the event has allowed her to turn something tragic into something positive. In remembering her sadness, she also recalls happy times together. The only true lost is when you have forgotten. And as long as you still remember, the person's spirit lives on.

Here are a few of the images I recorded at the event. You can read more about the history of Dia de los Muertos as well see past photos of the event here.

2007-10-27T22:16:00.000-07:00

2007-10-27T22:15:00.001-07:00

2007-10-27T22:13:00.001-07:00

Hot Investment Tips

2007-10-25T07:07:00.001-07:00

I made a couple of investments yesterday. And I'm sharing the hot tips with you. No, they're not one of those "no money down", get rich overnight schemes. They don't promise that you're going to miraculously grow a full head of hair, lose fifty pounds, or instantly feel invincible to conquer the world after listening to some motivational guru on audio CDs. In fact, the people handling the investment will tell you up front that it will take months before you'll see a return on your money. In fact, there's a slight chance you might not see any part of your money at all. And if everything goes well, you will get back the exact amount you had originally put in. Why would anyone do that? Because this investment you make has the potential to change lives. And that's no small change.
I first heard of Kiva.org when the organization was featured in a public television interview. What they essentially do is to match lenders like you and me with entrepreneurs in third world countries. As a banker to the poor, the lender does not make any interest on the loan. The borrower has a certain time limit to repay it. When the loan is paid in full, the lender could either choose to withdraw the amount or reinvest it on other borrowers. For instance, I recently made my first loans to Mr. & Mrs. Srim Yan and Daria Diaz Leon. The Yans needed money to rent a plot of farmland to grow crops to feed their family of five. One of their children is a student and the other two work in a garment factory. Mrs. Yan also plans to use part of the money to purchase rice stock to make traditional medicinal wine that she could sell to supplement their income. Daria Diaz Leon share a similar story. She is a mother of two children, one of which has Downs Syndrome. She makes her livelihood selling flowers and fruits. She needed to borrow money in order to purchase fertilizers to grow her crops.
What I like about this concept is that it is not a hand-out. Instead, you provide others the opportunity and resources to help themselves. It's like the old saying about teaching others to fish, except many of these people already know how to fish. They just need the fishing line and hook they could use to catch their own meal.
What is great about Kiva's website is that you can purchase electronic gift certificates for someone you care about. Instead of buying that special person another tie or fruit cake (also known as "door stop") for Christmas, you can give a gift that could literally change another person's life. And that's one present you don't have to worry about being returned because it doesn't fit.

(By the way, for those of you who have seen the infomercials by Feed The Children. They received an 'F' rating from American Institute of Philanthropy. If you are thinking of making a donation, I recommend that you read about them first on AIP's website.)

2007-10-25T06:58:00.000-07:00

(Pictures of Mr. & Mrs. Yan and Daria Diaz Leon taken from Kiva.org's website)

Water Boy for a Day

2007-10-22T19:45:00.000-07:00

There are days when you just can do no right no matter how hard you try. Everything that could possibly go wrong goes terribly wrong. Then there are those rare moments when everything falls into place, and all that you wished for comes true as you have imagined. You feel like god is looking down on you, as if to say in a wink and a smile, "Hey, kid. This one's for you."

Porridge, porta potties, and tamales

2007-10-21T19:09:00.000-07:00

I spent this past Sunday shooting street photography. I started out the morning in Chinatown where I had breakfast in my favorite Chinese/Vietnamese restaurant. They have an assortment of tasty soup noodles, pan fried noodles, and rice dishes. On this day, I had a hot bowl of fish porridge with a side order of Chinese donut, which is essentially elongated dough that is fried in hot oil.
After the meal, I took a short drive to downtown that is only a couple of minutes away.
I walked around for about an hour but didn't see anything that caught my eyes. Having been to downtown perhaps a hundred times or more, you would think I know the place like the back of my hand. What became apparent to me that I didn't realize before is that there's an undeniable connection between downtown Los Angeles and New York City: It is impossible to find a restroom when you need it most. Every fast food restaurant I visited did not have one. I would understand it if they denied non-customers. But paying customers too?! Shouldn't they have laws that require certain establishments to offer public restrooms. I'm sure they don't ask their employees to just hold it for an eight hour work shift. Whatever happened to the old saying, "customer is king"? Now, tell me, how could a king rule his kingdom without his "throne" ;) Anyways, after walking the distance of about 5 blocks, I was finally able to find a restroom on the bottom floor of the Grand Central Market. I must say that it was 25 cents well spent, considering you can't buy anything for a quarter these days. Except for a 10 minute meter parking and apparently a good piss. I find it ironic that both have time limit and if you run of it, you're screwed. And you know what's funny? The restroom was so crowded that they hired an employee just to stand inside it to make sure everyone who goes in pays the cover charge. That place is a gold mine. I figured, if the owner of the Dodgers, Frank McCourt, could make millions as a parking lot operator, why couldn't I become a millionaire as a restroom mogul? Taking a page out of Starbuck's marketing play book, I would have modernized porta potties on every block in downtown. I'm just kidding.
Anyways, I wasn't quite satisfied that I didn't get any good pictures, so I decided to drive 10 minutes away to Boyle Heights to see if I would have better luck. It was about noon by the time I got there. All day I've been craving for some good carnitas (roast pork) tacos. I found a restaurant on the corner called, Tamales Evas and chose to have lunch there. I was greeted at the counter by a very attractive young lady. She was articulate, and I noticed that she really enjoyed wearing jewelry. She had multiple rings on her fingers as well as bracelets. Since the restaurant's name is Tamales, I assumed that they must be pretty descent. I was not disappointed by my chicken and pork tamales. You can tell the ingredients were fresh and not simply pre-made and reheated in the microwave before serving it to customers. I like the little touches, such as making sure the plate is heated in order to keep the food warm. Just before I left, a couple of ladies came in with some kids. It was obvious that they are very close friends or part of the family. The waitress called them by their names and warmly kissed one of the little girls. It was a lovely scene. As I was leaving, I complimented the cook on his cooking, and he thanked me for saying that. I would definitely return again if I have craving for some good Mexican food.
I decided to take a stroll up and down the block to see what I could find. It was interesting seeing traditional Mexican musicians in their cowboy hats and guitars in their hands hanging outside different restaurants. They don't make much money performing for customers, but it's a living. After walking for about 3 or 4 blocks, I noticed a very colorful mural in a hidden alley that you see here. I had just purchased a new point and shoot camera- Canon G9. The widest angle on the camera is 35mm. Though I wish it could be wider, it does its job well. I did not have a tripod with me, so I just hand held the camera and took a series of overlapping shots. When I got home, I used Photoshop and digitally "stitched" them together. I'm no expert at Photoshop, but I'm satisfied with the result. If you would like to see the details of the mural, simply click your mouse on the photo to see an enlargement. You can do the same thing on any picture in my blog.

Ghost Town

2007-10-21T01:15:00.001-07:00

Elephant in The Room

2007-10-18T00:06:00.000-07:00

There's an elephant in the room.
Who will confront it before there's nothing
left to destroy?

Babe Watch

2007-10-16T00:35:00.001-07:00

Babe watching babe.

My Father, My Hero

2007-10-09T22:32:00.000-07:00

What a concept... a father as hero. Not a celebrity. A sport superstar. An "American idol" . Or anyone with great wealth, fame, or power. Well, perhaps power. Power not in the sense of being able to control or dominate over someone. But the ability to make someone feel that they are important. That they matter. Even when the world tells them otherwise. One of my favorite quotes is, "To the world, you may be just one person, but to one person, you may be the world." The story of Dick Hoyt and his son Rick epitomizes the spirit of this quote and what family and love between a father and son should be. I hope you find inspiration in the article and video.

Strongest Dad in the World
Rick Reilly for Sports Illustrated

I try to be a good father. Give my kids mulligans. Work nights to pay for their text messaging. Take them to swimsuit shoots.

But compared with Dick Hoyt, I'm lousy.

Eighty-five times he's pushed his disabled son, Rick, 26.2 miles in marathons. Eight times he's not only pushed him 26.2 miles in a wheelchair but also towed him 2.4 miles in a dinghy while swimming and pedaled him 112 miles in a seat on the handlebars -- all in the same day.

Dick's also pulled him cross-country skiing, taken him on his back mountain climbing and once hauled him across the U.S. on a bike. Makes taking your son bowling look a little lame, right?

And what has Rick done for his father? Not much -- except save his life.

This love story began in Winchester, Mass., 43 years ago, when Rick was strangled by the umbilical cord during birth, leaving him brain-damaged and unable to control his limbs.

"He'll be a vegetable the rest of his life," Dick says doctors told him and his wife, Judy, when Rick was nine months old. "Put him in an institution."

But the Hoyts weren't buying it. They noticed the way Rick's eyes followed them around the room. When Rick was 11 they took him to the engineering department at Tufts University and asked if there was anything to help the boy communicate. "No way," Dick says he was told. "There's nothing going on in his brain."

"Tell him a joke," Dick countered. They did. Rick laughed. Turns out a lot was going on in his brain.

Rigged up with a computer that allowed him to control the cursor by touching a switch with the side of his head, Rick was finally able to communicate. First words? "Go Bruins!" And after a high school classmate was paralyzed in an accident and the school organized a charity run for him, Rick pecked out, "Dad, I want to do that."

Yeah, right. How was Dick, a self-described "porker" who never ran more than a mile at a time, going to push his son five miles? Still, he tried. "Then it was me who was handicapped," Dick says. "I was sore for two weeks."

That day changed Rick's life. "Dad," he typed, "when we were running, it felt like I wasn't disabled anymore!"

And that sentence changed Dick's life. He became obsessed with giving Rick that feeling as often as he could. He got into such hard-belly shape that he and Rick were ready to try the 1979 Boston Marathon.

"No way," Dick was told by a race official. The Hoyts weren't quite a single runner, and they weren't quite a wheelchair competitor. For a few years Dick and Rick just joined the massive field and ran anyway, then they found a way to get into the race officially: In 1983 they ran another marathon so fast they made the qualifying time for Boston the following year.

Then somebody said, "Hey, Dick, why not a triathlon?"

How's a guy who never learned to swim and hadn't ridden a bike since he was six going to haul his 110-pound kid through a triathlon? Still, Dick tried.

Now they've done 212 triathlons, including four grueling 15-hour Ironmans in Hawaii. It must be a buzzkill to be a 25-year-old stud getting passed by an old guy towing a grown man in a dinghy, don't you think?

Hey, Dick, why not see how you'd do on your own? "No way," he says. Dick does it purely for "the awesome feeling" he gets seeing Rick with a cantaloupe smile as they run, swim and ride together.

This year, at ages 65 and 43, Dick and Rick finished their 24th Boston Marathon, in 5,083rd place out of more than 20,000 starters. Their best time? Two hours, 40 minutes in 1992 -- only 35 minutes off the world record, which, in case you don't keep track of these things, happens to be held by a guy who was not pushing another man in a wheelchair at the time.

"No question about it," Rick types. "My dad is the Father of the Century."

And Dick got something else out of all this too. Two years ago he had a mild heart attack during a race. Doctors found that one of his arteries was 95% clogged. "If you hadn't been in such great shape," one doctor told him, "you probably would've died 15 years ago."

So, in a way, Dick and Rick saved each other's life.

Rick, who has his own apartment (he gets home care) and works in Boston, and Dick, retired from the military and living in Holland, Mass., always find ways to be together. They give speeches around the country and compete in some backbreaking race every weekend, including this Father's Day.

That night, Rick will buy his dad dinner, but the thing he really wants to give him is a gift he can never buy.

"The thing I'd most like," Rick types, "is that my dad sit in the chair and I push him once."

Sports Illustrated Issue date: June 20, 2005, p. 88

Achilles' Heel

2007-10-07T22:37:00.000-07:00

There is a new craze in the Chinese community. Foot massage parlors are popping up all over town. Within a half block of a busy boulevard, we counted no less than 3 foot massage joints in two strip malls we visited. I first heard about it from a co-worker who spoke glowingly about his positive experience. Besides getting a relaxing message, the price was supposed to be ridiculously cheap. It sounded appealing, and when two friends of mine visited from out of town for the weekend, we decided to take the plunge.
Two banners hang outside the store front of two competing massage parlors in the same strip mall. The advertised price was identical, $15 per hour. We decided to scope out the place before settling in. The first joint we strolled by looked dark from the outside, and we could see busy massage workers attending to the clients inside. It was nothing more than an office space furnished with cheaply made, out-of-style, couches you typically find for sale at a Chinese furniture store or at your local Salvation Army. We decided on the second parlor, because we liked the fact it had individual recliners. After being seated, we proceeded to take off our shoes and socks and rolled up our pants. The workers brought each of us a wooden bucket filled with lukewarm water to soak our feet. We agreed that the water was barely warm, and thinking back now, I think it was probably more meant for the purpose of washing off the odor of customer's feet than to make them feel relaxed. It was close to midnight when we first arrived, and the place was almost at full capacity. There were approximately 30 recliners in all. Every few minutes new customers came in to get treatment or inquire about the price. It was my first time getting a foot massage. The male masseur first worked on my upper body. He twisted and stretched me in different directions. I felt like a human pretzel. Then he pounded me and slap my back with great force as if he were tenderizing a piece of steak. I thought the experience was quite funny and painful at the same time. I couldn't help myself from laughing and grimacing whenever he rubbed a spot too hard. My squeamish reaction made him laugh, and that seemed to break the ice between us. He joked with me that instead of getting massage next time, I should just get an oil rub down. He thinks the pain threshold level is one I could better handle. Hearing that made me feel like such a girly man. "After massaging people all day, you probably need a massage when you get home," I joked. I asked him how long he had been working that day. "15 hours," he answered. "You see?" pointing to his swollen hands. "No English....no money. Driving truck, make the same." he said. After hearing that, I was swept with an overwhelming feeling of sadness and guilt. In fact, I didn't feel like talking much for the rest of the session. For the remaining hour, I just observed him and his co-working whispering to each other and glancing at the owner surveying the floor, as if they were afraid that the owner would overhear what they were saying. One way I would describe the atmosphere of the place is that it is like a Walmart of massages, a place where cheap prices and profit are religion and the spirit of the congregation is sacrificial offering. When the session ended, I paid the masseur for the massage and gave him a $15 tip.
While walking back to my car, I told my friends that I vow to never get another foot massage again. I too wondered as you may whether the masseur was exaggerating his hardship just to gain my sympathy. Perhaps so, perhaps not. I tend to believe the latter to be more true. My guess is that, at best, the owner probably paid the workers less than half of what they charged the customers. I would be extremely surprised if the workers receive any benefits.
I was talking with my mother the other day when we had lunch together. I told her about my experience and how I felt about the situation. She said that many of the workers in massage parlors are illegal immigrants. Many of them come to the U.S. with tourist visas but they never return to China. Because they could not speak English and don't have green cards, they are forced to do menial labor to survive. She's heard of an owner of a massage parlor who rounded up workers in the morning in a van and then dropped off the same group when the shop closed at night.
I wondered aloud whether my decision to boycott their business would actually help or hurt the workers. Although the work is difficult and the owners may be unfair or even cruel, the workers were able to have a job because the business continues to exists. "If they had better choices, they would not be working there in the first place," my mother said. Maybe she's right. Things may look dark right now, but there may still be hope for them in the future. As long as one can survive in American, anything can happen.

Paper, Rock, Scissors

2007-10-03T08:07:00.001-07:00

"It is by chance that we met, by choice that we became friends."

"The best way to destroy an enemy is to make him a friend."
-Abraham Lincoln

"A friend is one who walks in when others walk out"
-Walter Winchell

"A friend is one who knows us, but loves us anyway.
-Fr. Jerome Cummings

"Go through your phone book, call people and ask them to drive you to the airport. The ones who will drive you are your true friends. The rest aren't bad people, they're just acquaintances."
-Jay Leno

"In prosperity our friends know us; in adversity we know our friends."
-John Churton Collings

"True friendship comes when the silence between two people is comfortable."
-David Tyson Gentry

"Purchase not friends by gifts; when thou ceases to give, such will cease to love."
-Thomas Fuller

"If ever there is tomorrow when we're not together... there is something you must always remember. You are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think. But most important thing is, even if we're apart...I'll always be with you." -Winnie the Pooh

"We do not so much need the help of our friends as the confidence of their help in need."
-Epicurus

"It is better to be in chains with friends than to be in a garden with strangers."
-Persian Proverb

"Life without a friend is like death without a witness."
- Spanish Proverb

"Great friends are hard to find, difficult to leave, and impossible to forget."

"Sometimes being a friend means mastering the art of timing. There is a time for silence. A time to let go and allow people to hurl themselves into their own destiny. And a time to prepare to pick up the pieces when it's all over."
-Gloria Naylor

"There isn't much better in this life than finding a way to spend a few hours in conversation with people you respect and love. You have to carve this time out of your life because you aren't really living without it."
-Real Live Preacher

"Don't flatter yourself that friendship authorizes you to say disagreeable things to your intimates. The nearer you come into relation with a person, the more necessary do tact and courtesy become. Except in cases of necessity,which are rare, leave your friend to learn unpleasant things from his enemies; they are ready enough to tell them."
-Oliver Wendell Holmes

"Don't walk in front of me, I may not follow.
Don't walk behind me, I may not lead.
Walk beside me and be my friend."
- Albert Camus

"Never explain- your friends do not need it and your enemies will not believe you anyway."
-Elbert Hubard

"To the world, you may be just one person, but to one person you may be the world."
-Brandi Synder

2007-10-01T22:05:00.000-07:00

Lady Liberty of Los Angeles

2007-09-29T20:42:00.001-07:00

Not many people are aware that Los Angeles has its own Statue of Liberty. Regardless of how one feels about immigration reform, I think it is most appropriate that the statue is located in downtown where the large Hispanic population of L.A. works and shops everyday.

When I was a little boy, I used to stay up all night watching t.v. when there was no school the next day. Just before the t.v. station went off the air, it used to end its broadcast each night by playing Ray Charles singing "America the Beautiful". People tend to associate America with red, white, and blue and apple pie. I think Ray Charles should be included on that list. I couldn't think of many other artists who is as soulful as brother Ray. One of my regrets is to not have seen him perform while he was alive. If you've forgotten how special he is, you can watch his performance here.

Facts:

The original name of the 'Statue of Liberty' is Liberty Enlightening the World.

The 7-point spiked crown represents the seven continents or the seven seas.

Lady Liberty holds a torch high over her head with the right hand and holds a tablet close to her body in her left hand.

The tablet contains the text "July IV MDCCLXXVI", which commemorates the independence day of The United States of America on July 4, 1776.

Clean Thoughts

2007-09-28T16:39:00.001-07:00

"I believe you should live each day as if it is your last, which is why I don't have any clean laundry, because, come on, who wants to wash clothes on the last day of their life?" -unknown

"It's hard for me to get used to these changing times. I can remember when the air was clean and sex was dirty." -George Burns

"Cleaning anything involves making something else dirty, but anything can get dirty without something else getting clean." -Laurence J. Peter

"Bitterness is like cancer. It eats upon the host. But anger is like fire. It burns it all clean.
-Maya Angelou

"Is sex dirty? Only if it is done right." -Woody Allen

"You must not lose faith in humanity. Humanity is an ocean; if a few drops of the ocean are dirty, the ocean does not become dirty." -Mahatma Gandhi

"I see L.A. as a beautiful blonde with dirty underwear" -David Boreanza

"A clean fighter in a dirty game [on boxer Joe Louis] -Wilfrid Diamond

For Better or Worse

2007-09-27T00:02:00.001-07:00

"Don't marry the person you think you can live with; marry only the individual you think you can't live without." -Lord Byron

"Many a man in love with a dimple makes the mistake of marrying the whole girl." -Stephen Leacock

"Life has taught us that love does not consist in gazing at each other but in looking outward together in the same direction." -Antoine de Saint-Exupery

"Love is blind, but marriage restores its sight." -Samuel Lichtenberg

"Women seem to be all right on bargain till it comes to picking out a husband." -Ken Hubbard

"The most important thing a father can do for his children is to love their mother." -Theodore Hesburg

"The four rings of marriage: the engagement ring, the wedding ring, the suffering, and enduring."

"In every marriage more than a week old, there are grounds for divorce.The trick is to find, and continue to find, the grounds for marriage." -Robert Anderson

"Laughter is the shortest distance between two people." -Victor Borge

When asked for about his secret for being married fifty-four years to the same person, he said, "Ruth and I are happily incompatible." -Billy Graham

"A good marriage would be between a blind wife and a deaf husband." -Michel de Montaigne

"The Japanese have a word for it.It's Judo -- the art of conquering by yielding.The Western equivalent of judo is, 'Yes, dear.'" -J. P. McEvoy

"The best way to remember your wife's birthday is to forget it once." ~H.V. Prochnow

"My wife tells me she doesn't care what I do when I'm away, as long as I'm not enjoying it."
-Lee Trevino

"Think not because you are now wed that all your courtship's at an end."
-Antonio Hurtado de Mendoza

"If you live to be a hundred, I want To live to be a hundred minus one day,
So I never have to live without you." -A.A. Milne Eeyore

Last One is a Rotten Egg!

2007-09-25T22:42:00.001-07:00

Horsing Around

2007-09-23T22:58:00.001-07:00

"They must get to the end and go, 'We were just here. What's the point of that?'"
-Jerry Seinfeld, on what a horse must think after a race is over

Level 2 Space 16

2007-09-21T00:50:00.001-07:00

Celluloid Dreams

2007-09-18T23:51:00.001-07:00

John's job is to clean the stars on the Walk of Fame in Hollywood. Even without his legs, he manages to do a wonderful job shining the stars of the forgotten heroes...even if they're all just make-believe.

Celluloid Heroes
by The Kinks

Everybody's a dreamer and everybody's a star,
And everybody's in movies, it doesn't matter who you are.
There are stars in every city,
In every house and on every street,
And if you walk down Hollywood Boulevard
Their names are written in concrete.

Don't step on Greta Garbo as you walk down the boulevard,
She looks so weak and fragile thats why she tried to be so hard
But they turned her into a princess
And they sat her on a throne,
But she turned her back on stardom,
Because she wanted to be alone.

You can see all the stars as you walk down Hollywood Boulevard,
Some that you recognize, some that you've hardly even heard of,
People who worked and suffered and struggled for fame,
Some who succeeded and some who suffered in vain.

Rudolph Valentino, looks very much alive,
And he looks up ladies dresses as they sadly pass him by.
Avoid stepping on Bela Lugosi
'cause he's liable to turn and bite,
But stand close by Bette Davis
Because hers was such a lonely life.

If you covered him with garbage,
George Sanders would still have style,
And if you stamped on Mickey Rooney
He would still turn round and smile,
But please don't tread on dearest Marilyn
'cause shes not very tough,
She should have been made of iron or steel,
But she was only made of flesh and blood.

You can see all the stars as you walk down Hollywood Boulevard,
Some that you recognize, some that you've hardly even heard of.
People who worked and suffered and struggled for fame,
Some who succeeded and some who suffered in vain.

Everybody's a dreamer and everybody's a star
And everybody's in show biz, it doesn't matter who you are.
And those who are successful,
Be always on your guard,
Success walks hand in hand with failure
Along Hollywood Boulevard.

I wish my life was a non-stop Hollywood movie show,
A fantasy world of celluloid villains and heroes,
Because celluloid heroes never feel any pain
And celluloid heroes never really die.

You can see all the stars as you walk along Hollywood Boulevard,
Some that you recognize, some that you've hardly even heard of,
People who worked and suffered and struggled for fame,
Some who succeeded and some who suffered in vain.

Oh celluloid heroes never feel any pain
Oh celluloid heroes never really die.

I wish my life was a non-stop Hollywood movie show,
A fantasy world of celluloid villains and heroes,
Because celluloid heroes never feel any pain
And celluloid heroes never really die.

Listen to the song, Celluloid Heroes, here.

Sweet 15

2007-09-17T20:18:00.000-07:00

"How strange that the young should always think the world is against them- when in fact that is the only time it is for them.
-Mignon McLaughlin

"The young always have the same problem- how to rebel and conform at the same time. They have now solved this by defying their parents and copying each other."
-Quentin Crisp

"Telling a teenager the facts of life is like giving fish a bath."
-Arnold H. Glasow

"Adolescents are not monsters. They are just people trying to learn how to make it among the adults in the world, who are probably not so sure themselves."
-Virginia Satir

"Don't laugh at a youth for his affectations; he is only trying on one face after another to find a face of his own."
-Logan Pearsall Smith

"I love to see a young girl go out and grab the world by the lapels. Life's a bitch. You've got to go out and kick ass."
-Maya Angelou

"Maturity begins to grow when you sense you concern for others outweighing your concern for yourself."
-John MacNoughton

"When buying a used car, punch the buttons on the radio. If all the stations are rock and roll, there's a good chance the transmission is shot."
-Larry Lujack

Pimping For J.C.

2007-09-16T21:33:00.000-07:00

Frank was holding a bible in his hand.

Me: "Are you a preacher?"

Frank: "No, I came from church."

Me: "That's quite an outfit you have on."

Frank: "Thank you!"

Me: "Well, you are an original, I tell you."

Frank: "Thank you!! I have a closet full of suits like this one!"

Paid

2007-09-14T23:56:00.000-07:00

Cost of the War in Iraq

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3,742 U.S. Solider killed

27,767 seriously wounded

72,161-78,740 civilians killed

Speechless

2007-09-12T00:00:00.001-07:00

Overhaul

2007-09-10T06:20:00.001-07:00

There are days when I feel
like I need a complete overhaul.
Gut everything out and
start over from scratch.

Conditioned Response

2007-09-06T00:27:00.000-07:00

To the adults passing by on the street, the house was an eye-sore; gutted and crumbling and fallen victim to trapped anger with a paint can. The child saw beauty where others turned away. The yellow of sunshine, the blue of the ocean, the black of night, red like the hearts he drew for his mother, and all against a backdrop of the green grass he loved to tumble in before dinner time. There were dreams there. Dreams for a youth with hopes of following the curving words around the next bend. Someday he would build his own foundation, muting the riot of color with the serenity of promise and a childhood spent searching the wonders of the human condition.

April Gilford

http://www.lifeasachristianwoman.com

http://www.herdailynews.com

http://hirewrite.squarespace.com

(This is a collaborative project where I invite guest writers to write about what comes to their mind and heart when they look at one of my images. I want to thank April for her marvelous words and contribution to this post. If you want to read more of April's great writings, I highly recommend you to visit one of her blogs...and do visit often! Thank you, April!)

FIX

2007-09-03T23:23:00.001-07:00

"Ugliness is in a way
superior to beauty.

Ugliness lasts."

-Unknown

Walking in Air #1

2007-09-02T19:14:00.001-07:00

Walking in Air #2

2007-09-02T14:10:00.001-07:00

this-able

2007-08-31T20:35:00.000-07:00

David and I met over 10 years ago when we were two struggling students attending community college. He had transferred from another junior college after failing there miserably, and I had dropped out of my senior year of high school two years earlier. I was entering my third year of college with nothing to show for. I routinely withdrew from courses in order to avoid receiving permanent F’s on my record. We were hoping that a change of environment and the prospect of a new year would provide us a fresh start.

David once mentioned to me that he had difficulty learning in school, but I did not know the extent of his learning disability at the time. Many years later I learned that he has an auditory processing problem that made it challenging for him to comprehend a lecture and write down notes at the same time. People with this condition commonly have difficulty identifying the speaker or relevant message in the presence of background distraction. They often do not recognize subtle differences between sounds in words, even though the sounds themselves are loud and clear. For example, if I were to ask a person with auditory processing problem to “Tell me how a couch and a chair are alike”, he or she may understand it to say, “Tell me how a cow and a hair are alike”. Because they have difficulty carrying out multi-step directions given orally, they appear to have poor listening skills to an untrained observer. Part of the reason I and many other people were not keenly aware of his condition was that David never openly used it as an excuse or a crutch for what he could not do. Instead, he focused on what he can do.

Whenever confronted with a problem, there are only so many ways to deal with it. You could decide to turn around and give up or you could think of ways to run through it, around it, under it, or over it. You could say that he did a little bit of everything but walking away. He enrolled himself into a program that taught him how to use various strategies to cope and learn more effectively. He searched for mentors who offered him guidance and words of encouragement. He also did it by sheer will and determination. David and I were enrolled in the same math class, and we regularly studied together. What I remember most about my experience is that he never gave up on solving a problem that he did not immediately understand. If he did not succeed in his first attempt, he would try to see the problem from a different angle. If that didn't work, he would try it another way. David also had the courage to admit what he doesn't know. He was that one student who asked the questions that the rest of class was too embarrassed to ask for fear of appearing dumb.

It has been a long road for both of us. With a lot of struggle and hard work, we are humbled by the fact that we were the first in our families to earn a college degree. As for me... not bad for a kid who was once told by a college academic counselor of all people that "Some people are meant for school and others are meant to become a trash man." I am pursuing my Master's degree and multiple-subjects credential, and I hope to be teaching somewhere next year. As for David, he continues to be an inspiration for many others. For the past eight years, he worked as an academic counselor at a public high school in the Bay area. He went back to school two years ago and earned his single-subject credential in Social Studies. His goal is to teach at a local continuation school where he can impart his knowledge and experience to guide students in the right direction. His students are going to be very lucky to have a teacher like him. He demonstrates by living example how far a person can reach if they have the desire and the determination to overcome their challenge.

Thank you, Dave, for allowing me to share your story.

In Search of a Miracle

2007-08-30T22:25:00.000-07:00

Guts

2007-08-30T01:40:00.000-07:00

"I wanted you to see what real courage is. Instead of getting the idea that courage is a man with a gun in his hand, it's when you know you're licked before you begin but you begin anyway, and you see it through no matter what. You rarely win, but sometimes you do."

-Atticus, To Kill a Mockingbird

Sometimes we think there is nothing left in us.
But we always do.
If we really dig down deep,
We would discover a reserve
waiting to be tapped.
We have more strength, more resilience, more clarity, more joy, and more capacity for love and forgiveness than we may readily acknowledge.
When we do, we will discover that what we possess beneath is far greater in magnitude than any circumstance that may confront us.

Between the Numbers

2007-08-29T00:07:00.001-07:00

"When someone dies, we list the year he was born, the year he died, and a hyphen between the two random numbers. It is not important when a person is born nor when he dies but the years he spent living and the lives he has touched. It is the little dash in between the two numbers that ultimately matters."

Wilma "Billie" Stone sits at the edge of her husband's, Jesse, bed as she reflects on the past 63 years together during a visit at the VA hospital in Martinez ,Calif. on Friday, January 26, 2001. Mr. Stone has suffered from progressive Super-nuclear Parsy. (Tue Nam Ton/Contra Costa Times)

(Thank you, Tue Nam, for your poignant photo and eloquent words. And thanks for your friendship in making the space between my numbers more meaningful.)

Late for the Gravy Train

2007-08-28T06:15:00.001-07:00

When I walk the streets of L.A., I am constantly reminded of how precarious life can be. I have a car, a good job, and a warm bed to sleep in at night. Breaking the illusion of comfort and security is the realization that I could lose everything in an instant. I could be a serious accident, long-term illness or unemployment away from being on the street, have I not been blessed with a close family and friends who would catch me from falling too deep into such predicament. However, not everyone is as fortunate as I am. There are the "half-homeless" who go to work every morning just like you and me. The difference is that Instead of returning to a house or an apartment in the evening, they retreat to their vehicles that is their home. Click here to watch video.

Fields of American Dream

2007-08-26T15:34:00.001-07:00

"Ten year old Ramiro is like a lot of children in Tulare County. His father works in the fields and his mom struggles to make ends meet, and he knows what it’s like to sometimes go hungry...Ramiro walks us through his world to get a first-hand look at how they cope." (From Kids for Real: Rural Hunger. Click here to watch video)

Letter Home

2007-08-25T15:19:00.001-07:00

Dear Mom

(author unknown)

The war is over now
My task is finally through,
But Mom there is something
I must ask of you.

I have a friend, oh what a friend
He has no home you see,
So Mom I would like
To bring him home with me.

If someone comes home with you,
I'm sure that he could stay
For a day or two.

Please Mom, I have to tell you something
Please don't be alarmed,
My friend, you see in battle
Happen to lose one arm.

My son, don't be afraid
To bring him home with you,
He could stay and visit
For even a week or two.

But Mom, he's not just a friend
He's a brother too,
That's why I want him to live with us
And be a son to you.

But...before you give me answer
There's something I must say,
My friend fought in a battle
In which he lost a leg.

My son, it hurts me to say this
But my answer must be no,
Your father and I would have no time
For one who is crippled so.

Sometime later a letter came
Saying their son was dead,
And when they read the cause of death
"Suicide" it said.

Sometime later when the casket came
Wrapped with the country flag,
They saw their son lying there
With out an arm or leg.

"At the Polytrauma Unit of the VA medical center in Palo Alto, we meet four TBI (Traumatic Brain Injury) patients who are working to put their lives back together. Only some of them bear obvious wounds, such as a lost eye or a missing part of a skull, but all share in common serious injuries to their brains. These veterans must relearn everyday things that we take for granted. Some struggle with simple motor skills, like picking up a pencil or walking normally; others grapple with memory loss and emotional difficulties, like one Army veteran who can’t remember giving birth to her own daughter." (From War Stories from Ward 7-D. Click here to watch video)

Cornfield in Metropolis

2007-08-24T23:40:00.001-07:00

2007-08-24T23:00:00.003-07:00

2007-08-24T22:53:00.001-07:00

"Soap Bubble" by Penny August

2007-08-24T00:40:00.001-07:00

I float on the wind
try to steer clear
of branches,
thorns on roses
olive trees,
and any other
sharp objects.
If scathed
I'm afraid
I might
burst.

(Thanks to Penny August for her permission to share this poem.)

(Much thanks to Penny August for her permission to share this wonderful poem)

Happy Feet

2007-08-23T07:00:00.001-07:00

"A prayer for the wild at heart, kept in cages."

-Tennessee Williams

Committed

2007-08-21T22:34:00.001-07:00

Changing course is acceptable
and may be necessary,
but turning back is not an option.

Down the Tubes

2007-08-20T23:47:00.001-07:00

It looks bad,
but it could be worse.
Better stop the bleeding first
before it's all drained away.

Bit More Than Can Chew

2007-08-19T00:25:00.001-07:00

"I cried because I had no shoes,
until I met a man with no feet."
-Unknown

The air was chilly and damp. It had been raining all morning. I went to the Grand Central Market to buy some fresh fruits and vegetables. While walking there, I saw a homeless man huddled near a noisy heat vent of an office building to keep warm. I felt sorry for him. On my way back from shopping, I stopped to offer the man a bag of apples I had bought. I expected him to be happy. Instead, he pointed to his mouth to reveal his rotten and missing teeth. "I can't chew," he said in resignation. Wow. How sad is that? The guy couldn't eat even if he had food. After seeing that, I felt ashamed of all those times I complained about my food not tasting just right.

My Kroptonite

2007-08-17T21:31:00.001-07:00

Everyone has their Kroptonite. For some, it's pepperoni pizza and ice-cream. For others, it's cigarette and whiskey. What's yours?

Eye Drop

2007-08-16T21:22:00.001-07:00

Birdie Birdie in the sky,
Dropped a poopie in my eye
I'm not angry, I won't cry
I'm just glad that cows don't fly
-Unknown

Building a Cathedral

2007-08-16T00:07:00.001-07:00

Jose always starts with an end in mind. The blueprint is his guide and compass. Though it may be small in scale, it contains colossal dreams. Pigments upon pigments he builds diligently from grounds up until one day it becomes his cathedral.

Ink Slinger

2007-08-15T00:25:00.001-07:00

Outside In

2007-08-14T01:43:00.000-07:00

On the day I met Freddie, he was passing time looking out the window. He had noticed my walking around his neighborhood with a camera in my hand, and he wondered what I was up to. I told him that I was visiting a friend in San Francisco who was graduating from law school. I wanted to take some photographs as a momento of my trip. After chatting a bit, I asked him if he would like to have a photograph. He was agreeable and invited me upstairs. During our conversation, I learned that he had been house sitting all day for his mother. Waiting is a tedious job. You're stuck at one place. Time appears to stand still while the world on the outside keeps moving on, seemingly without you...that sinking feeling of being all dressed up and have no place to go. One thing I immediately noticed about Freddie was the long scar along his forearm. I was curious to know, but I wasn't sure if I were prepared for the answer he might give me. I could only speculate how he had gotten it. Was it a battle scar that is indicative of the hard road he had traveled? Or could it have been something more benign... perhaps, he had fallen off riding his bike as a little boy. Whatever the facts are, it will always be a constant reminder of what happened, a snapshot etched into one's mind. I had promised Freddie that I would send him his picture when I got back home. I am not sure if he had ever gotten it. I'd imagine that when a person looks at his own picture, it's like looking into a mirror. It's sort of a strange, out-of-the-body, experience. I wonder who he sees when he's outside looking in and not the other way around. As of this moment, I could still picture Freddie sitting by the window....looking out..waiting for the moment of his mother's return.

Green In Red

2007-08-13T01:00:00.000-07:00

Survival is not the same as living. In order to survive, a living thing must be protected from the harsh elements when it is not yet capable to survive on its own. But to thrive, it must be given enough space and time to grow so that its potential could be fully realized.