So my wife’s side of the family wants to go camping this summer and my wife wants to take the kids and the dog. “It will be fun,” she says. Now I never understood the concept of camping. Don’t get me wrong, I understand that outdoor recreation can be fun and getting away from the city and spending some time in “God’s country” can be refreshing. But is it worth the risk? If you’re asking, “What risk?” I’m talking about the risk of bear attacks. If you’ve already read my tangent about sharks I basically follow the same logic. It’s not the low percentage of encountering a bear that frightens me but that there is ANY percentage to begin with. Who really wants to hit the “Bear Lotto?” Furthermore, the drive is going to take about six hours. SIX HOURS! That's a lot of trouble just to get eaten by a bear.
My ancestors HAD to camp. But with the advent of “The House” it seems silly to trade in protective walls, running water, and a sturdy roof for a tent that could be taken down by one swipe of a bear claw. Not to mention trading in a nice soft bed for a sleeping bag that amounts to being a human soft taco to bears. Now that’s major regression. We don’t seek to build cars that are slower and less fuel-efficient. So why seek to do that with our living situation? I guess you could argue it’s only temporary and a change of scenery every now and again is good for you.
My wife went and ordered a tent online because we didn’t have one of our own. My initial thought was, “We’re going to pay for a tent that we’re probably only going to use once every few years, which will also take up space in the garage.” Wonderful. But once the tent arrived and my wife set it up in the backyard just to see if it worked properly, the kids had an absolute blast playing in the tent. The excitement and the utter glee expressed on their little faces was a site to see. Becoming a parent is nuts. When your children experience new and exciting things, you experience the same excitement with them.
Okay. Maybe camping could be fun and build some wonderful memories with our family. But just like every Jurassic Park movie, it always starts out with excitement and awe but ends with running and screaming. Let’s hope this camping trip doesn’t follow the same script.
So my wife and I forgot to adjust our W-2(s) after we had children and received more on our tax return than expected. Apparently, having children has some nice tax breaks. I immediately thought, “After tithing, we could use it towards paying off debt and fund some of our investments!” My wife shot down that plan and said, “We are going on vacation.” (Katie: Jr suggested the idea of a vacation several months ago when he realized we had the same Spring Break. However, somehow it turned into “my idea” when we actually had to fund it.) I didn’t put up much of a fight because, you know, my wife takes care of our children, works from home, and cooks all the meals. So for me to not agree to taking her on a vacation would be marriage suicide. (Katie: Actually, marital suicide is going on vacation with your wife and then speaking about it afterwards as if it was a “burden” and “sacrifice” for you. )
She wanted to go to Kauai and it was so. (Katie: I offered up lots of ideas, including a short trip to a local spot. Jr endorsed Kauai. Again, “my idea” when we have to pay, I guess…) Sure, why not? I enjoyed myself there last time. I even enjoy snorkeling despite the fact that I’m petrified of sharks. Speaking of being completely petrified of sharks, I often get mocked for my Galeophobia. Almost without fail, I get the “It’s irrational fear” speech and people began to give me statistics about how it’s more likely to “insert-the-blank” than it is to run into a shark. My favorite is “You’re more likely to get into a car accident than run into a shark” argument. In all the car accidents I’ve been in, whether major or minor, I don’t recall the sensation of several rolls of razor sharp teeth ripping me to shreds while being submerged under water. It’s like nobody has ever seen Jaws before. (Katie: Jr referenced four movies on our trip- Jaws, Anaconda, Jurassic Park, and Predator. I think someone needs to recommend a movie with a bear mauling to prepare him for our July camping trip.)
The “low chances” argument never encouraged me. It was the fact that there are ANY chances at all. What if I hit the “shark lotto” like these people? If you don’t play (get in the water), you don’t “win” (get eaten by a shark). But, I wasn’t about to let my Galeophobia completely ruin my vacation. Instead, while snorkeling, I followed a very clear set of guidelines that I have developed:
• Never be the farthest guy out. While I’m snorkeling, I check from time to time to see who the farthest person(s) is out in the water. Sometimes, it’s easy to get caught up in the beauty of the ocean and forget that turning into shark chow is a real possibility. So, make sure you occasionally look up and check your positioning. You don’t want to be the shark bait furthest out. (Katie: I will admit to wondering if I am included in this “buffer zone” of shark bait that Jr. ensures for himself.)
• Don’t swim in mildly murky water. Visibility is important. The whole point of snorkeling is to be able to see things, right? But why would I put “mildly murky?” The reason is people still snorkel when they can see enough interesting things. This is where mildly murky water is dangerous. You can swim and still see a few feet in front of you, but you can’t spot a shark until it’s too late. So I only snorkel in clear waters.
• Swim with fat people. I know this doesn’t sound nice, but there’s really no time to be politically correct when a 7,000 pound great white is chasing you. It’s every man for himself. It’s also more likely that a hungry shark will take a bite out of someone with more “sustenance.”
So those are some of the general rules I follow while snorkeling, and I currently have all my limbs to speak of. And yes, snorkeling in Kauai was fun (although Maui is better).
One evening, though, my wife and I were relaxing in the hotel and I was watching the local news. It turns out they had just closed a beach due to a shark sighting ... THE SAME BEACH WHERE WE WERE SNORKELING!!! (Katie: Actually, it was ONE of the beaches along the 3 mile wide bay that we were on… The beach we snorkeled at was located at the exact opposite end of the bay, surrounded by a coral reef sticking up so far out of the water that a turtle was sunning himself on it the entire time.) So what if it was 3 miles wide. Do you know how fast sharks can swim when they smell Thai blood? Everyone likes Thai food why would sharks be any different? I guess my fear isn’t so “irrational” after all. Yes, that was my last day of snorkeling (and probably ever again).
As far as for the rest of our vacation:
Once I decided to NOT get back in the water again (You could only tempt fate so often before it bites you in the @$$ and in this case it would be literal) we caught some sights and enjoyed some gorgeous views.
We started on the South side of the island got some good snorkeling in (before the shark sighting) and even saw a couple of seals and a sea turtle. I couldn't get a picture of the sea turtle because, you know, I was in the water but you guys know what sea turtles look like. Truthfully, that was probably worth the trip. SWIMMING WITH SEA TURTLES!!! I could cross that off the buckle list, you know, if I had a bucket list.
Here are some more views on the South side of the island.
After a couple of nights we traveled to the North side of the island.
This was the entry way to our room at the hotel.
This was the pool at the hotel. I just kept thinking about our little Joelle swimming in the kiddie pool. That's the funny thing about coming a parent. There are times you need a break from the children to focus on your marriage but when you get away all you do is think about your kids. Then you get home and can't wait to leave again.
There was a patio area with this view overlooking the beach. Katie and I spend a couple of hours just reading books while occasionally looking up and just thinking, "Wow."
Katie wanted to go hiking. Truth be told, I really don't like hiking unless there's an amazing view involved or some kind of payoff like a lake with a waterfall or something. Otherwise, walking uphill on a dirt and bumpy path isn't really my thing. The photo above is the beginning of the trail. It totally reminded me of this scene from Predator.
We went a couple of miles up and this was the view. Yes, that was worth the hike. For the rest of our trip it was basically like driving our in Jurassic Park without the dinosaurs trying to eat you. Some times when you're blessed with the opportunity to get away with your wife you need to take it. It's a different kind of investment. I'm glad my wife made me do this because, you know, going on vacation could be scary some times. And with that, I'll leave you the original trailer of the 1993 Jurassic Park:
This was a great summer for several reasons. It was a nice time to rest after having a difficult year, I hired a personal trainer for better and more efficient workouts, and bonded with my daughter. We also took several trips throughout the summer. My family and I went to Hume Lake where clueless teenagers run wild within the confines of a Christian camp, visited my buddy Dom and his family up at Monterey, and even went to Mammoth for the first time.
There were several other benefits of the summer months, but I just wanted to highlight the Mammoth trip for this year’s summer summary blog. The reason for this is not because a bear almost ate me (not making that up) but that the Mammoth trip was Dom’s college and career retreat for his church. He asked me to team teach with him by going through several chapters and themes in the book of Hebrews. I begrudgingly said, “yes,” sensing that it would take several hours of studying to prepare and even more energy to act mature and responsible during the retreat since I’d be viewed as a “leader.”
As I began the process of preparation for the teaching times, it wasn’t much of a surprise that I enjoyed studying the Bible since I . . . well . . . enjoy studying the Bible. What came as a surprise to me was that being a “leader” with Dom that weekend wasn’t as taxing as I thought it was going to be. It was actually quite enjoyable. I appreciated the opportunity to do so myself and to see how much Dom has matured as a man and spiritual leader. Upon further reflection, I find it simply comical that God would have us EVER leading a retreat. People who knew us during our teen years would know that a three-legged blind dog would have been better at leading just about anything else.
From what I hear, the people who attended the retreat were blessed and left knowing God better and understanding our roles in His grand master plan (whatever that may be). The retreat really had a duel purpose for me. First, of course, was my responsibility to teach the Word of God and minister to people. Yes, I counted that as one because they go hand in hand. Second, it was a great time to reflect on my personal journey of how far the Lord has brought me. Twenty years ago if you would’ve told Dom and myself that Dom would be a pastor someday and I would help him teach the Bible at a retreat we would’ve have said, “Give us some of whatever you are smoking.” Most people know we were “bad” kids. I won’t get into details but “bad” doesn’t really quite describe it. I’ve been truly blessed watching Dom’s life and mine continue to change and to see the power of the gospel in both our lives.
As it stands, I was extremely humbled by the opportunity and realize God continues to use the biggest jack@$$es to glorify His name- which is fine by me since that all but guarantees my usage for His kingdom.
The flight from LA to SF is about an hour (at most) but the boarding process took about, well, an hour. To further aggravate the situation, once everything was squared away and everyone was ready to take off the captain came on the PA and said, “There will be a slight delay.” Now there are several words that ran through my mind that my wife wouldn’t let me write down here but I’m sure you can figure out that they were of the 4-letter variety. This whole time Joelle was doing okay but the delay was eating into “The baby is okay” time. We knew it was only a matter of time before the inevitable happened. The captain went on to try and explain the reason for the delay, but once the word “delay” came out of the speaker, I really didn’t care what the reason was. The airline had promised us a time when the plane would take off and when it would arrive at the desired destination. We had done our part… We arrived at the airport on time and got through the necessary security checks then waited patiently at the gate only to have the airline screw up somehow and delay the flight. I understand there are several variables that come into play, but if airlines were required to refund a prorated rate to people whose flights were delayed my guess is that airlines would all of a sudden run more efficiently.
Anyway, once we FINALLY took off for most of the flight Joelle stayed content and didn’t bother anyone. Yes, I was looking at her like a proud father. Then it was time to descend for the landing. As you know, once the plane starts to descend your ears start popping and aching because of the drop in pressure. For a nine-month old who has never experienced something like this, it can be nerve wracking. Sure enough, my daughter started dropping baby F-bombs with the intensity of a heavy metal rock band. This went on for the entire descent. It definitely was another “Welcome to Parenthood!” moment. Once we landed and Joelle’s equilibrium began to stabilize, she started calming down. That was a rough first flight with my daughter.
During the flights home, however, my baby slept the whole way and was a sweet little angel. I guess she just needed to get over the initial shock of the first flight. Let's hope she won't need drugs in order to get on a plane like her mother-in-law.
During my trip to The Motherland, my uncle’s love (aka The Thai Tycoon) and generosity towards me was overwhelming. I couldn’t believe how much he took care of Katie and I and the enjoyment he received from doing so. I thought to myself, “This is how my father should be treating me.” When I was a child, I remember my uncle starting from scratch. Now he’s projected to own half of Thailand by 2016.
On the one hand you have my uncle who started his own business and simply decided, “I’m not going to be poor.” Now he’s branching out and starting different business ventures for the mere challenge of it. Does he need more money? Of course he doesn’t. It’s about next adventures and starting something new and seeing it become successful.
On the other hand, you have my father who decided that gambling was the road to success. As if people winning built Las Vegas. There couldn’t be two sharper contrasts between my uncle and my father. “The plans of the diligent lead to profit as surely as haste leads to poverty” (Prov. 21:5 – NIV). My uncle inspires me. My father simply leaves me nodding my head.
Psychologists would charge me $300 per hour to inform me that I have a host of issues as a result of my family background. I went ahead and saved my money. It’s not that difficult to know when you have a father like mine you’ll probably going to deal with anger, bitterness, and resentment and have abandonment issues. I was a slave to those things. So imagine when I became a Christian and I read:
Because you are sons, God sent the Spirit who calls out, “Abba, Father.” So you are no longer a slave, but a son; and since you are a son, God has made you also an heir. (Galatians 4:6-7 – NIV)
You shall not mistreat any widow or fatherless child. (Exodus 22:22 – ESV)
He executes justice for the fatherless and the widow, and loves the sojourner, giving him food and clothing (Deut. 10:18 – ESV).
Father of the fatherless and protector of widows is God in his holy habitation. (Ps 68:5 –ESV)
These verses probably mean more to me than the average person who grew up with a good father figure. The Lord has healed much of my heart and has given me perspective through the eyes of His sovereign grace. I’m no longer chained to the slavery of abandonment nor ruled by a heart of resentment. I’ve been freed by a Spirit of adoption and filled with a heart of gratitude. I have a different Father and I am my Father’s son.
As an adult, there is victory in my life. I don’t need to follow the same path as my father. I now have a heavenly Father who knows me better than I know myself. But there is a question that remains. How will this affect me as a future parent? I’ve never had to deal with this question because the idea of parenthood was extremely remote. However, as that reality potentially draws closer, I will be faced with that question in the form of a screaming baby in my hands.
I’ve actually thought about this question some. I look at parenthood as an opportunity to see how I might’ve turned out if I had a good father teaching me the things that need to be taught to every child. I don’t fear parenthood as much as I make out. Although I admit this is a recent development. I embrace parenthood knowing it’s an opportunity to break a cycle of abandonment, to begin a different Jamreonvit legacy, and to be the father I never had but always wanted. That doesn’t mean I’ll be the perfect parent. Parenthood doesn’t require perfection but only the understanding of God’s grace poured into your life and how to impart that same grace to your children. That’s going to look different for every individual, for every household but that’s part of the fun . . . trying to figure these things out for yourself.
In conclusion, this trip to the Motherland was an awakening of sorts for me. It was awakening to the realities of who I was, who I am, and ultimately who I will become. Nothing in the past binds me. Yet, everything in the past binds me. How will this all play out? Who knows? God does. That’s why I’ll keep blogging because the fun is figuring this stuff out.
Thank you for all of you who read my blog and who have followed The Motherland series faithfully. I hope that it gives you insight into my life and that it was a source of encouragement. I pray that God ministered to you in some way and even give you some insight into yourself.
There are very few moments in my life when I think extensively about my biological father. My thoughts towards him usually don’t last for more than a couple of minutes at a time. I have vague and unpleasant memories of my father. I also have vague and fragmented memories of my grandparents on that particular side of the family.
During this trip to The Motherland, I learned that my father was from a privileged background. Apparently, my grandparents did fairly well in life financially speaking. It made sense to me when I began putting some of the broken pieces together. The memories of living in a nice house only down the street from my grandparent’s nicer house started to become a little clearer. There were thoughts of my sister and I racing up and down the street and riding rafts to grandpa’s during flooding season.
However, there was one memory that stood out for some reason, namely, the memory of my grandfather’s funeral. It was in Thailand, and I was only a small child. I didn’t have very many memories of my grandparents. During the time of his passing, I just remembered my father being extremely sad. When someone loses a parent, sadness is a normal and legitimate emotional response. I didn’t have a problem with my father mourning over the lost of his father. But there’s a difference between mourning over the lost of a loved one and being completely aloof, coldly detached, and strangely distant from the rest of your family members.
People handle grief differently. I understand that. But the way my father handled his grief during that time was a foreshadowing of things to come. He didn’t take the opportunity to teach his son about the frailty of life, that everyone has a finite amount of time and that time shouldn’t be wasted. He wasn’t a pillar of strength for his family during a difficult time. He wilted under the despair, clearly seen by his son. It left an impression on a young boy beyond his years. Maybe he didn’t bother using it as a teachable moment because I was just a kid. Maybe he understood that those lessons would’ve been far beyond my ability to comprehend. Maybe he simply loved his father and no longer having him was just too much to bear.
If that were the case, those valuable lessons every son needs to learn never came. Incidentally, shortly after that time, I have little memory of my father ever being around. I’ve only met with him a hand-full of times in my life. From what my family tells me, he squandered his inheritance from his father’s estate, never was able to stick to a job, and had major gambling issues. He sounds like a real role model.
Maybe that’s why it was difficult for me to cope with my emotions growing up. Maybe that’s why it was hard to deal with rejection from girls in high school and college. Maybe that’s why it was burdensome to connect with my mom at a young age. It might be that my father never taught me these things. Worst yet, maybe my father DID teach me these things by being absent and detached. It’s no coincidence I was absent and detached throughout my teenage years. I tried to never take responsibility for myself and made every effort to look for the easy way out. I was my father’s son.
Throughout the years I would occasionally get a phone call from him. The phone calls were never “How are you doing?” type of calls. The phone calls were usually my father giving me some sob story of how he fell on hard times and needed some money. Sweet! As you could imagine, the phone calls didn’t last very long. A lasting memory of my father that I have burned into my cranium was the time shortly after my mother passed away. He called and said, “I’m sorry about your mother, do you have money I could borrow?” For a split second I actually thought my father had some decency in him after all when he said, “I’m sorry about your mother . . . “ but then when he proceeded to ask for money in the same breath I was speechless. He never asked me if I were dating anyone when I was growing up. He never asked how college was going. I didn’t hear from him when I graduated with two Master’s degrees from grad school. Not a word from him when I got married. He doesn’t even know I just bought a house. But when my mom passed away, her body not yet laid to rest, my father thought it was a good time to ask for some money. Amazing. I didn’t respond but simply handed the phone back to my sister Vicky.
I’ll never forget that phone call. It was the last time I spoke to my father. My sister Vicky refuses to give him my new contact information even though he’s asked several times. I think a lot about that moment more then I care to admit. The reason is because there’s a part of me that wants to ask him, “Do you have no decency? …no dignity as a man? Your son’s lasting memory of you is you asking him for money when his mother died. How does that make you feel?” I predict his response would be something like, “So does this mean you’re not giving me any money?”
Realizing that your nationality is a gift from God to use for His glory totally explains my mom’s passion for her people. She was an evangelist to the core but there was a particular passion for her people, Thai people. She was never prideful about being Thai, she just enjoyed it, loved it and cherished it. She didn’t have tattoos written in Thai (nothing wrong with tattoos, by the way). She didn’t marginalize people for not being Thai. It didn’t matter to my mom who you were or where you came from; if you didn’t know Jesus you were going to hear about Him. And even if you already knew Jesus you were still going to hear about Him. I’ve often said that if George Whitefield were an Asian woman he would be my mother.
My mom’s plan was to retire from working here in the States and then become a full-time missionary in Thailand. I would’ve loved to see her passion lived out. I’ve always wondered why the Lord didn’t allow this to happen. “Look at all the people she could’ve led to You, Lord!” I would say. But that wasn’t in the plans. As I went to Thailand bearing that in mind, I remembered the faces of people she shared the gospel of Christ with. I remembered the people she led to the Lord. I remembered the church she attended in Bangkok. And above all, I remembered her passion for Thailand and her people. I always thought her passion for Thailand and Thai people was, “Her thing.” I had my own “thing,” which I wanted to accomplish, my own plans.
In my previous post, I mentioned my own realization that our nationality is a gift from God and that I’ve come to love my “Thai-ness.” During this trip, that reality was brought home for me. My uncle (aka The Thai Tycoon), the one who will own half of Thailand by 2016, built another warehouse for his fireworks company outside the city of Bangkok. It was in a neighborhood my mom enjoyed because of the open fields and nice weather. The warehouse was colossal. He basically built it from the ground up and is currently building another one. My uncle gave us the tour of the facilities, showing us the offices and the unfinished portions, describing what they would look like afterwards.
In a small section of the premises, my uncle had built shacks as living accommodations for some of his workers. They may look sad initially, but when compared to where those workers would be living without working for my uncle, they are far better. I immediately thought about what my mom would do if she were there on the grounds. There’s no doubt in my mind she would have been in the kitchen cooking tons of food and taking it to the workers everyday. And you know what else? You guessed it. She’d be preaching the gospel of Christ to every single person and loving every minute of it. Although she would have known that she had workers to cook for her or do anything else for her, she would have refused and said, “I can do this myself . . . just give me my Thai Bible! I need to preach!” She would have been a living example of coming to serve instead of being served.
Speaking of my mom, my uncle (her younger brother) showed me the second story of the warehouse right above his office. He told me that he built the entire second story just for my mom. He walked me through the master bedroom, the living room, and the guest room he had built. It was all for my mom. My uncle relished the opportunity to give back to his big sister for taking care of him for all those years. Sadly, she would never get the opportunity to use it.
I stood in the master bedroom for a while and I couldn’t move. Then I slowly walked around imaging how my mom would have set up the room, how she would have packed things and allowed them to clutter, where she would sit and read her Bible, the closet she would have sat in, constantly praying for me and wondering when I’d ever get married. I imagined the kinds of books she would have had on the shelf, the hundreds of pairs of shoes that my sister stopped wearing that she would have had to wear because she didn’t want them to go to waste, and the pictures of her children (mainly me) she would have had up all around the room. No, I couldn’t move. Completely overcome with emotions, I broke down and cried. My uncle embraced me and told me its okay and said, “You’ll have to be the one to use [the room].” I couldn’t respond but only thought to myself, “Maybe I will. But if I do, I know I’ll have a lot to live up to.”
After wiping off the tears and collecting ourselves, we went down to my uncle’s office and made plans for dinner. He likes making plans for dinner and I like that he likes making plans for dinner because when his favorite nephew is in town, he will spare no expense to make sure I get the royal treatment. And yes, we feasted that night.
Other thoughts regarding my family history came to mind. It was difficult to process while I was there in Bangkok. It was like asking a neurosurgeon in the middle of brain surgery, “Hey, how are you doing that?” and the surgeon giving a look back that says, “Can’t you see I’m in the middle of something?” When you’re in the thick of things it’s difficult to explain. So after getting back home I thought about that moment on the second floor of my uncle’s warehouse and how beautiful my uncle made it for my mom. But instead of wondering why the Lord never allowed it to happen I remember Jesus’ words:
1 Do not let your hearts be troubled. You believe in God; believe also in me. 2 My Father’s house has many rooms; if that were not so, would I have told you that I am going there to prepare a place for you? 3 And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am (John 14:1-3 – NIV).
No matter how beautiful we can make our homes here, Jesus has prepared a place far better and beyond our comprehension, which will display His glory in the ultimate way, namely, meeting Him in glory.
But when my mom went home to the Lord, she left something behind. It was the seed of her passion for Thailand, a seed to have a passion for your people. Will that seed grow? I have no way of knowing with certainty. I thought for certain my mom would live to see my children and win countless souls to Christ in Thailand. That dream is gone. But maybe, just maybe . . . the seed she planted in her son might still grow and see that dream someday realized. Maybe.
There probably wasn’t a single moment in Bangkok when my mind wasn’t on twenty different things. Okay, maybe when I was eating I was only thinking about eating but that’s it. Some of my thoughts included seeing my family, having memories of my mother, and wondering about my father.
Seeing my family was one of the most wonderful experiences I’ve had. It’s probably because I’m older and appreciate relationships and family more. In addition, having grown up in a broken home makes me see the value of having a strong family unit, even family outside the immediate sphere of influence. Furthermore, it helped me realize my own ethnicity. There was this sense of “Oh yeah, I’m Thai!” when visiting my family in The Motherland.
Actually, I didn’t even realize that I was Asian until I got to Biola University. Namely because I couldn’t get a date and quickly realized that race was an issue (I’m only semi-joking). But even then I only had the epiphany of “Oh yeah, I’m Asian.” It wasn’t specific like the realization I was “Thai,” which was a much more positive experience. You might be saying, “How could you not know your own ethnicity you moron!” First, I would agree with you that I’m a moron. Secondly, I grew up in East Los Angeles and went to a Middle School and a High School that was predominantly Asian and Hispanic and everyone hated each other equally. Finally, I was born in the United States and like most children who have or had immigrant parent(s), you simply want to fit in as best as possible and sometimes in the process of trying to fit in Western culture you forget your own culture, whether intentionally or unintentionally.
Growing in my appreciation for my “Thai-ness” doesn’t mean that I’ll “go gangster” and have “Thai Pride” tattooed across my chest in Thai letters like some ex-con. However, I’ve not only accepted my own uniqueness but also embraced with joy. I love being Thai and I love much of the culture of Thai people, MY people. This made me think about the Abrahamic Covenant that the Lord had with Israel. Israel was supposed to be a light to the other nations, an example of a Theocracy. Israel was chosen by God to bring other nations under the same Theocracy of Yahweh. The Abrahamic Covenant sought to unite racial differences not by blurring cultural distinctions but by bringing different ethic groups under the banner of One God while maintaining cultural distinctions. The lie that Satan has put in my people is that “You can’t be Thai AND a Christian. It’s a Western religion.” Buddhism is a major part of the culture in Thailand, people associate being Buddhist with being Thai. And I tell them, “No! You can still be Thai AND be a Christian!” The beauty of the Abrahamic Covenant is that it transcends culture without destroying it. Even in the New Testament we have the Apostle Paul’s body analogy regarding the church, namely, that diversity exists within unity (Rom. 12:3-8, 1 Cor. 12:12-17, Eph. 4:11-16).
Yes, I’m created in God’s image and that comes first in the hierarchy of importance regarding the doctrine of humanity. But God also created different ethnic groups and calls all of us to worship Him. The Lord made me Thai for some reason and I’m sure it’s beyond wanting me to enjoy Thai food (although Thai food rocks). There is purpose in everything that the Lord does. Our ethnicity is not “a throw away” in the plan of God. We have it for a reason. Although I don’t fully see the reason for my “Thai-ness” yet, I am at a place where I’m willing to learn and wanting to grow in appreciation for my own uniqueness and seeing how it fits with the bigger picture of the body of Christ.
The beginning of the second leg of our trip started off nicely. My uncle (aka “The Thai Tycoon” or Triple T for short) had purchased breakfast at the resort for us during our entire stay. Sweet! It was wonderful every morning to start the day eating good food and having a nice time talking to my amazing wife. However, that was probably the only relaxing part of our time. As I mentioned before, we did everything at high speed in order to squeeze every minute of everyday like we were making real orange juice.
The Floating Market
It was also a pleasure to see my other uncle (aka The Administrator), who works as an administrator for Toyota overseeing major accounts in major parts of the world not in the United States. Do you know how I know he’s big time? He’s required to play golf with the other bigwigs in the company. Sweet! For a couple days, he brought his wife (auntie Kanda – who speaks five languages fluently) and two boys (my cousins) to go sightseeing. First stop, The Floating Market. It’s a big tourist attraction in Bangkok although the locals hardly ever go. It makes sense. Why would they want to go to a market on the water when they could go to a regular market on land? Whereas the foreigners would say, “We don’t have anything like this at home, lets go to a market that’s actually on water.”
Yes, it is literally a market on different boats, each with different items ranging from fruits, food, and other merchandise that tourists may be interested in. Before we got into the boats we decided to have breakfast, which was a bowl of noodles (or a couple bowls in my case) eaten by the river. Katie even enjoyed the bowl of noodles, until she saw the ladies who served us washing the dishes in the dirty river after we ate (minor detail). I just laughed it off and told her since I’m Thai I was immune to any diseases in Thailand and she’s also immune by virtue of marrying a Thai guy. That’s just how it works.
Once on board the driver (or is it sailor?) had to navigate through narrow lanes of water going from store to store and boat to boat. If there was anything we wanted at either the store or another boat, we simply signaled the driver to stop and then could make our purchase. After some time, more boats started piling up and then traffic jams began to occur. Since there are no traffic lights or road rules to abide by, it was the “every man for myself” mentality. I lost count of how many times I thought we were going to tip over and fall into the dirty river due to crashing into other boats. Furthermore, I couldn’t believe that no matter where we are at, whether by land or sea, we ran into traffic! I HATE traffic!
(Side note: When I came back home I was talking to my brother-in-law, Mike, about the trip and he mentioned seeing the pictures of The Floating Market and recalled seeing the movie Anaconda. He decided he wasn’t about to visit the Floating Market because it looked too similar to where the Anacondas were in the movie. I assured him there were no Anacondas but only crocodiles and most of them weren’t giant crocodiles. They only have those in the Philippines.)
The Old City
Afterwards, my uncle (aka The Administrator) and aunt (aka The Linguist) took us to The Old City north of Bangkok. It’s a place in Bangkok where there are still remnants of . . . you guessed it . . . The Old City. Since I was Thai I was only charged the Thai price. However, foreigners get a price hike at around 500%. You could probably have guessed that it was difficult for my wife to pass as a Thai person.
We took a lot photos and simply enjoyed the sights. Or at least my wife did. I was busy pretending to be in a Mortal Kombat movie and reenacting all the scenes and quoting the video game lines, “Get over here!” “Finish him!” It’s not everyday you get to wander around century old cities and pretend you’re a ninja with superpowers.
Riding Elephants
Now if you’re at The Old City, you simply can’t leave without riding an elephant. Katie’s never rode an elephant before so she was pretty excited about it. As we were waiting in line we noted how cute the elephant looked and wondered how they would make as pets, until we saw the wheelbarrows of elephant feces they hauled off. I don’t think I’ll complain about picking up the dog feces for a while.
Finally, it was our turn, and we climbed up to ride the elephant. Of course we got a block down the road and the driver was already asking for a tip. Really? One block and that requires a tip? No doubt he was thinking, “Hey, this guy is married to a white woman. He MUST be rich.” The cool thing was the elephant extended his truck and grabbed the bill and gave it to his trainer. Smart animal. Why can’t the dogs do this at home?
I felt privileged that I took my wife on her first elephant ride. Now if anything were to happen to me, and my wife remarries, her new (and much less handsome) husband wouldn’t be able to say that. Yes, it was I. I took her across the world and we rode a freakin’ elephant! Going horseback riding isn’t half as exotic. And horses don’t have trunks, so I win.
The Crocodile Farm
The next place we visited was the crocodile farm. The crocodile farm doesn’t only have crocodiles but also tigers and elephants. Mainly, though, it was a farm full of crocodiles. We had an opportunity while we were there to see a show where elephants reenacted ancient war scenes and played soccer. (Interesting combination, I know.)
As we watched the show, I thought to myself, “If elephants can play soccer should we really consider it a sport? I don’t see any elephants dunking a basketball.” After the show you could overpay to feed the elephants sugar sticks, you know, the very sugar sticks that the trainer gives them for free after we’re all gone. Admittedly though, feeding the elephants was fun but not nearly as fun as feeding the crocodiles raw chicken meat while standing on a platform about three feet high directly over them. I know if we were in the States there would probably have been a hundred safety violations. But this isn’t the States, it’s Thailand and that’s how Thai people roll. If there’s money to be made, safety be da****!
You know when you’re at a pond and you throw little pieces of bread to watch the fishes come biting? And when you start throwing bigger pieces they come swarming and start fighting each other over the food? Well, just imagine that but with crocodiles. It was pretty sweet. It was like watching the nature channel but being there live. I wanted to throw a dear in there just to see what would happen. I know I’m horrible.
Believe it or not, we did all that in ONE DAY. So you could imagine by the time Katie and I got to the hotel we didn’t say much to each other and simply crashed. I had dreams of riding a war elephant and fighting giant crocodiles that night, and I didn’t even drink. What a vacation!!! If you think we’re done you’d be wrong . . . more on The Return From the Motherland in the days ahead. Stay tuned.
After a wonderful week in Phuket we went back to Bangkok to visit family. My family living in Bangkok is all on my mother’s side. I currently have three uncles there, which I talked shortly about in a previous blog .
Now Phuket was relaxing, and Bangkok was anything but relaxing. I don’t mean that we didn’t have a good time because we did, immensely, but we kept a fast pace the whole time we were there. Once we arrived in Bangkok we were stuck in traffic for nearly three hours. It made me feel like I was back home on the I-5.
The original plan was to stay at one of my uncle’s condos. That plan had to be scratched because the condos were going through some renovations. So my uncle, being the Thai Tycoon that he is, arranged for Katie and I to stay at one of the finer Resorts in Bangkok. When he first called to make the reservation, he found out that the resort had no rooms available, but guess what? My uncle is a close friend of the owner of the hotel, and the owner opened up a room for us. Yes, my uncle is very well connected in Thailand (and that’s an understatement). My uncle owns the top Fireworks Company in Bangkok. He also has real estate investments and other business ventures that are too long to list here. I predict that he’ll own half of Thailand by 2016.
My uncle is extremely generous. Actually, he was so generous it was down right overwhelming. I kept thinking about God’s goodness and how the Lord enjoys showering us with His blessings. I’m my uncle’s favorite nephew. I’m his big sister’s son and he loved his sister (my mom). As far as he’s concerned, I’m just an extension of my mom.
The first night we were in Bangkok, we had dinner at a Chinese restaurant, did some catching up and went over the plans for the rest of the week. Afterwards, he just handed me a large sum of money. I didn’t want to take it but he wouldn’t take “no” for an answer. Then I thought to myself, “I can’t believe I was penny-pinching while I was in Phuket.” For example, the resort we were staying at had an arrangement with the local taxi(s). The taxi(s) were not allowed to pick up anyone, which resulted in us basically being forced to use their taxi to the airport. And yes, it was expensive. I thought to myself, “Wait a minute! This is Thailand! There’s got to be someone willing to bend the rules for a discount.” As I walked around town talking to cab drivers and telling them about our plight, one finally said (translated), “Okay, meet me down the hill and make sure that no one sees you.” I replied, “Okay, give me twenty minutes to meet at the rendezvous.” Katie and I proceed to gather our luggage and check out of the resort. As we were walking out to the lobby the resort staff quickly began to usher us to their taxi service like ushers at church putting you in a seat you don’t want to sit in. We told them, “No thanks, we’re going to have a look around first. We’ll be back . . . [the next phrase I said under my breath] in a few years.” As we were carrying all our luggage down this steep hill, I look back and see my wife being a good sport carrying all she had while trying to keep her balance and maintain a good attitude. I yelled back at her, “Remember honey, WE’RE SAVING MON-EY!”
Once we hit the meeting point, the cab driver immediately pulled up in his cab, parked his car in the middle of the street, and popped open the trunk. We started throwing all our bags into the trunk like we were stealing large sums of cash, slammed the trunk, jumped into the back seat, and burning rubber leaving skid marks while making a quick get-away. Total savings? $8.00. While we looked behind to see if anyone was following us I kept saying out loud, “We saved $8.00!!!” You might be thinking, “Why go through all that to save a measly $8.00? That’s not even enough for a coffee date.” Actually, after my uncle simply handed me some cash for just being his nephew, I was thinking the same thing.
As we continued to enjoy the evening my uncle would recall for Katie how difficult I was to please when I was a child, always refusing to eat Thai food and only wanting McDonald’s or steak. Yes, I was a brat. Now that I’m a bit older we actually had adult conversions talking about future plans, business ideas, and retirement. It was a new experience for me to talk about “adult stuff” with my uncle. It was great. It made me appreciate all the things he’s done in his own life and inspired me to do the same thing back home. Katie got a kick out of my interaction with my uncle. She said, “If I were to picture you as a 60-year-old Thai-man with limited English you would totally be your uncle.” After a wonderful dinner and some time catching up with my aunt, uncle, and cousin Pink we were off to bed. The next day began our second leg of the trip.
The trip to Thailand was about two weeks long. We started things out in Phuket, Southern Thailand. It’s a beautiful tropical place. However, it’s also extremely touristy. Actually, you see more foreigners than Thai people there. Fortunately we stayed at the
Avista Resort, which is off the main strip and tucked away on top of the hill keeping us away from the madness. Nice.
We had a nice time relaxing at the beaches and enjoying the nice restaurant at the resort. One of the main things to do there was take a boat ride to some of the local islands and go snorkeling. If you know me, you know that I don’t like boats, water, or being anywhere near where a potential shark could be. It also didn’t help that I just got through watching Shark Week on the Discovery channel back at home. I even posted this on my Facebook page:
My wife wants to go snorkeling but I just saw Shark Week ... conflict ahead.
Here are some of the funnier responses I got:
Mike (brother-in-law): Take a pocketknife.
Rory: I wouldn’t worry about it unless you’re dressed like a seal.
Victoria (sister): Oh my goodness! That makes me nervous! I just saw shark week too!!!! Def pocket knife! Remember to punch them in the nose and swim like a mad man!!!! Don't deprive Katie of an exciting once in a lifetime adventure!!!
Andre: Don't worry dude, if it happens just make a movie showing how your still able to play basketball.
David: with a peg leg. ;)
Frankie: If u bit by a shark, then we'll all see u on SHARK WEEK!!
Josie: I saw the episode where the dog got attacked and made it, so I think you'll be just fine :)
Facebook is pretty fun for times like these. It felt like everyone was on vacation with us. In short, we went on the snorkeling trip and visited many of the surrounding islands. They were beautiful with white sands as soft as powder and clear blue, warm water. I hear sharks don’t like warm water. Real nice! During the tour we heard the guide mention that they filmed the movie The Beach there about twenty-seven times. Most importantly, I made it back in one piece.
The rest of the time in Phuket, Katie and I took the local bus and walked around town taking in the sights. The beach was right down the street from the Resort where we were staying. One of the days we spent at the beach, and I simply read a good book and occasionally looked up and admired the beauty of God’s creation. There were moments I was overcome with emotions because I saw not only God’s goodness around me but also upon me; His grace not only sustaining the world and everything in it, but also His grace and kindness toward me as an individual. The fact that I didn’t encounter any sharks was the cherry on top on the Sundae of God’s goodness.
We decided to go with United Airlines on my return trip to the Motherland. I never had to book a flight to Thailand even though I’ve been there a million times. It was always my mother or Tim Dinkins that took that job. I just remember going to the international terminal at LAX every time. So it was an absolute surprise to me when we got dropped off at the international terminal to find out that our flight on United wasn’t leaving from there. Guess what? They still fly international flights out of their own terminal, which was three terminals down. Did our ride already leave? Of course. Did we have to walk all that way through crazy LAX carrying all our luggage? Of course. Was I happy? Of course not. Not a great start to our trip.
When we finally got to the correct terminal we had to go through security like everyone does. All the TSA agents had the “I hate the world and everything in it” look on their faces and were being complete jerks to most people. There was this elderly Asian lady ahead of me in the security line who did know English very well and wasn’t sure whether or not to zip or unzip her luggage while putting it through the scanning machine, so she decided to unzip it. Apparently, you’re only suppose to unzip things that have liquids. By the time she got up to the scanning machine a TSA agent was upset and angrily zipped up her luggage and shoved it through the scanning machine. She was flustered as a result, feeling as if she did something wrong. This could’ve been her first time at LAX, or at any airport for that matter. She clearly didn’t understand English very well, but instead of being patient and gracious in situations like that, I find that often people get angry that they don’t know English and assume that it’s stupidity. I felt like saying to the TSA agent, “Hey jackass, why do you think the rest of the world hates us? Because of jackasses like you! That’s exactly why we need this kind of security.” Then I thought about being thrown into a small room and having my anal cavity checked out and decided to refrain.
I pushed my bag through and something in my bag was unsettling to them so they pulled me aside to open it and check it out. It turned out to be my lotion. A TSA agent grabbed it and started looking at it like it was potentially C4. I calmly told him, “It’s lotion. You know, the stuff that prevents dry skin.” He replied, “It’s too big, you’ll have to check your luggage to keep it or you could leave it here.” With complete apathy I replied, “I’m not checking my bag, so Merry Christmas.”
It blows my mind. TSA agents are already viewed as the “bad guys” at the airports but they’re really looking out for our safety. They know this, so why be jackasses about it? Why have the attitude that says, “I know my job is your safety but I hate you anyway.” Don’t they realize that the terrorists have already won? Maybe they just embraced the villain role like the Miami Heat (we all know how that worked out). But terrorists don’t honestly think they’re going to take over the world. They’re not even trying. All they want is to have us live in fear and change our way of life. Or in this case, make TSA agents into the biggest A-holes in the world and have airport travel sucked into the tenth level of hell. So when we treat each other like jerks, it’s a victory for the terrorists. I say, “Screw that!” and let’s actually treat people with patience and dignity and in so doing we’re saying, “Screw you!” to the terrorists.
About 12 hours later we landed in Tokyo. If you don’t know already, even though you get off an airplane to get to a connecting flight you still have to go through security check again. Once we got to the scanning machine I began to basically undress myself when the Tokyo TSA agent kindly stopped me half way and simply asked me to walk through the metal detector. I said, “You mean you don’t want me to undress in front of everyone so you could humiliate me all in the name of ‘safety’?” With a kind smile he said, “no.” Sweet! Score one for Tokyo airport. But then when my wife and I were trying to find something to eat, and all they had was Japanese food and McDonald’s. Really? In such an international airport that’s all you have? I’m taking that point back.
About 8.5 hours later we finally arrived in Bangkok. I’ve never been to the new airport so this was a new experience for me. And you know what? It’s absolutely beautiful. Especially when you compare it to the old dump they used to have. They had every store you could think of including about twenty-five coffee shops. The layout was nice and the vegetation was even nicer. Score one for the Thai people!
You’re probably thinking, “Are you seriously talking about the airports when you went to Thailand?” I can assure you that this is only a warm-up for the things to come. When you read the blogs on the actually trip you’ll see why. There are about a zillion things I need to process- my mom, my dad, my own nationality, the rest of my family, other family history, the influence of Christianity in Thailand, where can I get some of my favorite Thai desserts, Etc. I promise it’ll be worth the wait. Until then, remember to tell the terrorist “Screw you!” by loving someone today, especially if you are at an airport.
It’s official. I’m taking my wife to The Motherland – Thailand, in order to see my people. I honestly thought about when this would happen ever since we got married. There’s this sense of obligation to take her there in order for her to see a special side of me. Yes, looking at the price of airline tickets made me want to vomit but when else were we going to go? We plan on “starting a family” this time next year (I hate that phrase. Why does it only become “a family” when you have kids? Why can’t it just be my wife and I and the dogs? I mean besides the fact that I hate the dogs.). So we needed to do this now before the kids come and ruin our lives.
Furthermore, I know if my mom were still alive she would’ve FORCED me to take her to The Motherland and tell me how much of a tightwad I am and to quit complaining about the price. My mom would’ve come along and “shown her the town” and displayed her passion to see her people hear the Gospel of Jesus Christ. It was truly a beautiful thing to watch. She would share the gospel with whomever she came into contact with. You simply wondered, with deep conviction, why you didn’t have the same passion. She also would’ve made some phone calls and made me preach at about twenty different Christian churches. I would then be thinking, “I didn’t know there were twenty different Christian churches in Thailand.” She would’ve also taken us to restaurants that no GPS could even find and she would probably know the owner as well. I’m missing my mom as I’m writing this.
Truthfully, this trip makes me a little nervous because my mom isn’t here. She was the one who planned the trips and set the itinerary. Even during my mission trip with Tim Dinkins in the summer of 2005 (the last time I was there), he was the one who set the itinerary. Like my wedding, my wife does the planning and I just show up. It can’t work that way this time because she’s never been to The Motherland. The responsibility falls on me to make sure this trip is productive and fun for my wife. This goes against my philosophy to avoid responsibility at all cost but I realize that this trip should be an experience that my wife will forever remember as 1) a trip to meet part of her new family on her husband’s side 2) experiencing fun and exciting new things 3) and seeing a side of her husband that she would never get to see otherwise. Daunting, but I think I’m up for it (maybe).
Having family in Thailand is great. I talk about my uncles quite a bit. One happens to have several business ventures. One day, I’m just going to spend an entire summer there and ask him to teach me how to make money. I call him, “Uncle Fat Cat.” He speaks Chinese, French, and Thai (of course) but his English is down right awful. Every time he tries to speak to me in English I just tell him to speak to me in Thai because it’s painful to listen. It’s like he’s having a seizure every time he tries to annunciate something. I have another uncle who’s a big time manager over at Toyota. I call him “Uncle Big Time Toyota” or “UNK-BTT” for short. He’s in charge of all the accounts in most of Asia. Yet, he won’t hook me up with a car. Yes, my uncles have deep pockets but they don’t give handouts. Maybe that’s why they have deep pockets. I have a third uncle in Thailand. He’s a wild card, that’s why I call him “Uncle Wild Card.” The reason that he’s a wild card is because I have no idea what in the world he does and he refuses to tell me. So I make-believe that he’s a manager of an underground fight club. I haven’t even mentioned my aunts and crazy cousins yet. This should be interesting.
My wife has never been to Thailand and has always wanted to go. As I’ve already mentioned, if we don’t go now we’ll probably never end up going. It’s an opportunity for me to show my wife (white-blonde-from-California) the inner workings of the Thai culture. She loves experiencing new and exciting things and I think a trip like this qualifies. I want to give her memories that she’ll cherish forever, memories she could look back on before the kids come and ruin our lives. She gets excited with the thought of visiting The Floating Market, riding Elephants in the wilderness, seeing exotic beaches and rafting down wild rivers, all of which is yawn-city for me because I’ve done those things a thousand times (Well, I don’t get tired of exotic beaches but still.). Most people at this point say, “How could you EVER get tired of doing things like that?” My response is, “It’s the equivalent of people in Orange County who get tired of Disneyland.” People who don’t live in or around the OC get excited about the thought of going to Disneyland. Although I don’t live in Bangkok, it’s the same thing with riding Elephants and visiting The Floating Market. Furthermore, I remember watching a Thai-horror movie as a kid with a giant alligator attacking and eating people at The Floating Market. It scared me from ever wanting to go to The Floating Market the same way Jaws scared me from ever wanting to swim in the ocean. It was so bad I didn’t want to even swim in swimming pools. I know I have issues but lets move on.
I never really look at myself and notice that I’m Thai. I just think I’m “me” plain and simple. However, there is something about our heritage that informs us about a little of who we are. I don’t agree with the idea that we need to find our complete identity in our ethos, but I also don’t agree we should completely forget about it. God created us with diversity for a reason and I’ve learned to embrace that very unique part of me- although if I had my choice, I would be 6’8 with a Lebron-type of build and talent. Instead, God choose me to be a 5’10 Thai-guy with little to no talent. Whatever. I’m over it (sort of). Maybe my wife leaves this trip knowing the Thai culture a little better and as a result knows me a little better. For an amazing woman such as her who loves me the way she does, that might be worth the whole trip. You know, before the kids come and ruin our lives.
As a teacher, I've been often asked, "What do you do during the summer?" My reply, "Whatever I want." It's a great schedule but it's also forced unemployment. But you take the good and the bad in any career, right? So today, the wife and I decided to run some errands together.
On a Friday, we dropped off my car to have it serviced, went to the mall for some shoe shopping (basketball shoes for me, running shoes for her), ate lunch, picked up my car afterwards, then finally took both cars to the car wash. While we were at the car wash, I introduce the wife to Maria, a lovely lady who works at the car wash who knew my mom. She was happy to meet the wife and proceed to give us a discount. The wife goes on to say, "Wow, you're mom was sure a special woman." She later posted this on my sister's facebook page:
Jr and I were in Montebello today getting his car serviced and then getting both of our cars washed. When we got to the car wash, the lady inside greeted Jr enthusiastically, and gave us a little discount... all because she knew your mom. :) Jr and I both enjoyed laughing at the fact that even years later- at the car wash of all places- we get benefits because people are so grateful for your mom and who she was! I'm so sad that I never got to meet her here on earth, but I'm so grateful that I'll get to some day in heaven. She sure was a special woman. :)
My sister replied:
Oh sis, u just made me cry a lil. That must've been Maria at the MTB car wash. They were friends. If my bro hasn't already told u, my mom was one amazing, classy, loveable lady. Where ever she went, she made friends. She is so loved even after these past couple of years that she's gone to heaven. I still get special treatment at some venues that my mom would go to just cuz I'm "Penny's lil girl". She would've treated u like a queen, not just sayn that, she really would have! I'm sorry u didn't get a chance to meet her here, but u will someday. I look forward to that day that I will be with her again too. I'm not just saying this cuz she was my mom, but she was a very special woman. Oh how I miss her everyday. Thanks for sharing honey, it makes me so happy that people hasn't forgotten her : )
(There's another story of when my sister was pulled over by a local Deputy [many years ago]. He had finished writing the ticket but my sister's then-boyfriend said, "Hey, don't you know this is Penny's daughter!" The sister was embarrassed and tried to crawl into a ball. But the Deputy said, "THIS is Penny's daughter?!" then took the ticket back and proceeded to rip it up despite the fact that he had already finished writing it [I'm not making this up]. My mom had some serious pull.)
This was just a reminder of the countless lives my mother touched. There are literally hundreds of stories to mention and this was one of them. There are not too many people who lived in that community that didn't know my mother. I remember when I broke the news to Maria that my mom passed away, she was completely distraught. Maria grew up Catholic but that didn't stop my mom from sharing the Gospel with her. Mom had this uncanny ability to touch people's lives simply by her presence. The first thing people notice is her joy. It wasn't pretentious but radiant. It was her joy that made people trust her and listen intently to her as she shared the Gospel, the source of her joy. I would watch people listen to my mom with the "I don't know what this woman is selling but I'm buying it" look on their faces.
I wish I could share the Gospel the way my momma did. That was truly one of mom's gifts. I really don't like rollin' by the old neighborhood. It doesn't exactly bring up good memories. However, when I run into people who knew my mom, I remember when I moved away to attend Biola University she continued God's work in that community. It's been nearly three years since her passing and her legacy continues. Amazing.
A day in Santa Barbara with Dom and Jessica during the summer seems fun enough. Walking up and down State St. checking out the stores and watching the fancy cars pass by was pretty cool. Katie and I even got a chance to check out one of the famous California missions located there.
But nothing could prepare me for what I was about to experience at Stella Marie’s restaurant. It’s an upscale French restaurant that I usually wouldn’t find myself in because it requires class. Once we were seated the waiter brought out free samples of escargot (I feel sophisticated just typing it). I know what escargot is but I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to try it and pretend that I actually belonged there. It tasted like mushrooms, although I still won’t be ordering escargot on my pizza anytime soon.
Well, doesn’t that sound delightful? I went with the chicken and Dom went with the Filet Mignon. I don’t remember what the girls got because I didn’t care. Now the chicken doesn’t sound all that exciting. I mean, doesn’t everyone have chicken and know what chicken tastes like? It’s uneventful and predictable in most places, but not here. The atmosphere just told you that it was going to be better than the Orange Chicken at Panda Express.
The food arrived and the presentation was exquisite. I almost didn’t want to touch it. Of course that feeling lasted for about twenty seconds. After a quick prayer all of us started eating and simultaneously moaned as though our taste buds had an orgasm. It was the first time I ever experienced that eating with other people.
Each of us was savoring every bite and trying each other’s dishes until we were absolutely drunk on food. I’ve always thought that being “drunk on food” was a metaphor. No, I experienced it as reality and it was wonderful! The food was sooooooooo amazing that I wanted to rub it all over my body. You may think that this is disgusting but my senses were overloaded, and I couldn’t think of any other way to express myself.
By the end of the meal I was already full but I’d be d*** if I didn’t have dessert at this place. All of us decided to get something different so we could share (on top of the free dessert that the waiter had already brought us!). Dom and I had some doubts about the Lemon Cake but the waiter said he would bring it, and if we didn’t like it we didn’t have to pay for it. That sounded like a great deal. I certainly enjoy a man who believes in his product. I took one bite of that Lemon Cake and decided to pay double.
In short, guys, if you want to impress a girl or if you want to treat your wife to something special, you have to take a day trip to San Barbara, catch the sights, walk the beach, walk the strip, and end the day with dinner at Stella Mare’s (Warning: be prepared to drop well over $200 for the entire day. But let me tell you that it was well worth it. And remember that I’m cheap). I guarantee that your girlfriend or wife will decide not to break-up or divorce you for at least another year or so.
Katie and I decided to take a trip to Monterey to visit her brother PJ and help him out with the kids while his wife, Allison, was attending a wedding out of state for the weekend.Dom and Jess have family in Monterey as well so we met up with them and had a jolly-old-time.
The drive up there was interesting.I got a chance to try out my father-in-law’s GPS (Global Positioning System).I was thinking about getting one myself.Katie typed in the address and it gave the directions, the mileage of the trip, and the ETA (Estimated Time of Arrival).In addition, it even talked to us and told us when to turn or what off-ramp to take.It did, however, speak in a geeky white dude’s voice.Isn’t there a model or feature where the GPS could talk to you in Angelina Jolie’s voice?How about Angelina speaking in French?I wouldn’t know what she’s saying but I also wouldn’t care.Is there a way I could copyright this idea?
Regarding the ETA, every time we got stuck in traffic the time would increase.Going through L.A. I thought I was stuck in freeway purgatory because the ETA remained four hours ahead of the current time for about two hours straight.Why do people have to use the freeway the same time I do?To compound the matter, there were three accidents on the way to extend the drive an additional three hours.Great.You might be saying, “What a jerk!” “What about the people involved in the accident?”Fair question- the first two accidences were fender-benders.Only the third accident might have been a serious one so I decided to make a compromise and only get mad at the first two.Fair?Fair.Moving on then.
Being in Monterey, CA for the weekend with friends and family certainly was quite the highlight of the summer.Any time I can get out of L.A. and appreciate God’s creation and simply sit back and take in all the beauty, I take the opportunity.I knew that in going to Monterey, that would be a given because I was well aware that it was a beautiful place. In fact, the first night we were there PJ and I drove to Kinko’s, and there was a deer there.How often could you say that happens in L.A.?
Our trip included a variety of activities- having breakfast in Carmel, sampling clam chowder on the wharf, and driving through Pebble Beach with Dom, Jess, and Laura and hiking Point Lobos and watching fireworks with PJ and the kids (Maddie and Grant).
To give you an idea of how the kids are here's Allison posted on my facebook page:
Ally: This morning.... (a few days before our trip)
Me: Hey, are you excited for Aunt Kate and Uncle Junior to come and spend time with you while Mom is gone this weekend?
Maddie: Wait Mom, wait.....Uncle Junior is going to take care of ME?
Me: Well, yeah-he and Aunt Kate and Dad.
Maddie: OH, so Aunt Kate will take care of us and Uncle Junior will play with us.
Me: I think you are right.
Meanwhile in the background... Grant : (running around and yelling at the top of his lungs) Uncle Dunior! Uncle Dunior! Uncle Dunior!
I'm glad that they know my role in the family. Lets continue . . .
In hanging out with my brother-in-law PJ, I was surprised by something I wasn’t expecting to see, and no, it wasn’t the fact that he actually won a game of Settlers of Catan.It was his parenting skills.PJ’s kids, Maddie (4) and Grant (2), are wonderful children.But they’re still kids.What I mean by this is that no matter how wonderful kids may be you’re still going to have kids type of issues.For example, Grant blew up in the middle of the night both nights Katie and I were there.At those moments I said to myself, “I don’t want kids.”But of course I’m a jerk.
Both times, PJ patiently got out of bed and handled the “crisis” with care and grace.I’m not so sure I would’ve done the same thing.PJ would be firm and constant with both his kids making a clear line that they are not allowed to cross.Being a public school teacher I see the results of parenting everyday and lemma tell ya, it doesn’t always look great to say the least.Firmness and consistency coupled with gentleness and grace are things that parents struggle with whether they know it or not.PJ has a good grip on things.
At the end of each night, PJ would read a passage in the Bible and help his kids memorize a verse.He would also frequently ask questions pertaining to the passage to make sure the kids comprehended what was going on.I’ll have to try and top this with my own kid and have Junior Jr. memorize Greek paradigms and quote the Ten Commandments in the original Hebrew.Top THAT PJ!!!!
The nice example of parenting set by PJ was a nice surprise.I can only infer that he has learned these things from his father and is now passing down his godly heritage to his own children.Of course if you ask PJ himself he would admit that parenting isn’t always easy and that at times he struggles with the lack of time and freedom.What parent doesn’t struggle with that every so often?I struggle with the mere thought of that and I don’t have any kids yet.
