Life is about experiences. Ones we enjoy in the present, then again in the remembering, and yet again in the sharing and the retelling. Years ago I volunteered for an organization called Rebuilding Together (RT), formerly known as Christmas in April. Every now and then we called it Christmas in June, or July or sometimes August. You see RT is an organization that, once a year, helps the elderly and those in need repair their homes so that they are safe and clean. Many times I have gone in to replace entire kitchens and bathrooms. Other times we would just Continue reading “FRIEND AND PHO”
CRICKETS
CRICKETS
Last night I listened to crickets, at my home in Vallejo. I am not sure exactly when I first heard them playing their leg violins. I say leg violins, not leg cellos. Even though the sound they play is closer to that of a cello, leg violins sound better in my head. It was probably on vacation. My family, brother, sisters, mom and dad; would go camping every year. It was that way as long as I can remember. Camping to me is that faint kerosene smell Continue reading “CRICKETS”
A COLD ONE
“How much is there?”
“A mountain of it, maybe 50, 60 cases.”
Many, many years ago I did the Renaissance Faire. We say we did the faire, not went to the faire, or worked at the faire. No, we DID the faire. We packed our cars for camping, put on crazy, sometimes super expensive costumes, and went dancing around in a forest. Think of it as your parent’s Burning Man, but just Continue reading “A COLD ONE”
SUGAR TOOTH
While my father lamented the reprisal of tuna casserole on my birthday, he was in agreement with me on one thing: Chocolate cake for dessert. On occasion, my mother would try to make something from scratch. Chocolate cake was not this thing. A box mix where she added eggs and milk. Oh! She did have a secret ingredient. She would reduce Continue reading “SUGAR TOOTH”
MY POOR DAD
Birthdays for me, and should be for everyone, a special day. I am going to stop here to make an acknowledgement to mothers. I personally feel that they should be celebrated every year on the day of their child’s birth. I mean, they did all the work for 9 months and were not able to have a drink the entire time. My friend Jane is pregnant with her first child and I Continue reading “MY POOR DAD”
I DID A THING
Every 4th of July we, as a country, celebrate our independence from Jolly Olde England. The day stands as a reminder of how we came together as a people to establish self-governance. Self-Governance. What an interesting word. Self-Governance. I keep writing this word because it strikes me that we, as a country, seem to have forgotten Continue reading “I DID A THING”
TIME FOR A CURRY
There is not much my mother could ever say to make me physically cringe, except . . . Now I am not sure why this always fell to me but every night, just before dinner, my mother would raise her voice slightly so she could be heard above the TV and say, “Tom, come make the milk for dinner.” There are two things that I want to say about this. Continue reading “TIME FOR A CURRY”
EL DORADO
The lost city of gold. The first time I heard of El Dorado was from the Howard Hawkes movie with John Wayne and James Caan. A classic shoot-em-up with a drunken sheriff, a grumpy sidekick, a young whipper-snapper and, of course, John Wayne. During an early part of the movie John Wayne and James Caan are riding through a saguaro covered part of the desert to the city of El Dorado, where they will subsequently save the day. I am not giving anything away, the movie was made in 1966 for God’s sake. During this ride, James Caan recites a bit of a poem that ends with “ . . . Continue reading “EL DORADO”
WITH PRIDE
When I think of my sister I remember two distinctive things. One, she taught me how to spell Wednesday. “Wed-nes-day” she said. The reason I remember this so well and so clearly is that the brief interchange shocked me. Why? Good question. You see I grew up in a family with five children and my sister is five years older than me. At dinner we sat on opposite sides of the table and we rarely spent any time together, not even fighting. I guess it shocked me because it is most likely the first memory of anyone helping me with a challenge. The second distinct memory I have is when I was 17 or 18 years old. She had moved out, gone to college and gotten a job. She asked me out to dinner. This is unique because, like I said, we rarely spent any time together. I was flattered because of the attention but also because I was doing this adult thing: Continue reading “WITH PRIDE”
A MEMORABLE WEEKEND
In 1951 my father shipped out from Mare Island. In Korea, at the age of 23, Second Lieutenant Vernon Judt was assigned to a Battalion Aid station. My father only ever told me two stories about the war. One, “When I first went over, when it was quiet, the doc and I would put an inch of whiskey in our canteen cups then fill it with water. By the end we would fill them with whiskey, no water.” The other was darker and more suggestive than inclusive with detail. “Some nights there would be so many wounded that the Doc could not handle them all. On those nights I would have to triage. Some, the ones you knew would not make it, I would give extra morphine to them and tell them that everything would be okay.” Continue reading “A MEMORABLE WEEKEND”