Wednesday, August 14, 2013
Wednesday, August 7, 2013
The Kidz
Here is the only movie I took of Tai-chan's brother and sister. It's odd to think that they are not my kids, yet they are Tai-chan's siblings. I'm wondering what their attitudes towards me are going to be as they grow older, completely fatherless. Or maybe the dude will just show up one day, unannounced.
If I were they and of sufficient age and that happened, I'd probably tell him to go take a hike.
I don't know. Even though they aren't mine, I can't treat them callously in any way, because after all, they didn't choose to have a jerk for a father.
Incidentally, they both have very unorthodox names for Japanese kids -- I must say I've never heard of a single person with their first names. It would be as if in English their names were Xerxix and Kebmek.
Hmm. Those names kind of have ring to them. Maybe I'll name my next set of cats that.
The little girl's name is Kaho and the boy's name is Koh. They are 5 and 7, respectively. They don't speak a word of English.
Oh, and today at 2:28 p.m. exactly 12 years ago, Tai-chan was born at the Jewish General hospital, on the fifth floor. The nurse presiding was a Vietnamese woman named Thanh. I forget the name of the delivery doctor, but I do know our regular obstetrician never showed up.
If I were they and of sufficient age and that happened, I'd probably tell him to go take a hike.
I don't know. Even though they aren't mine, I can't treat them callously in any way, because after all, they didn't choose to have a jerk for a father.
Incidentally, they both have very unorthodox names for Japanese kids -- I must say I've never heard of a single person with their first names. It would be as if in English their names were Xerxix and Kebmek.
Hmm. Those names kind of have ring to them. Maybe I'll name my next set of cats that.
The little girl's name is Kaho and the boy's name is Koh. They are 5 and 7, respectively. They don't speak a word of English.
Oh, and today at 2:28 p.m. exactly 12 years ago, Tai-chan was born at the Jewish General hospital, on the fifth floor. The nurse presiding was a Vietnamese woman named Thanh. I forget the name of the delivery doctor, but I do know our regular obstetrician never showed up.
Tuesday, August 6, 2013
The Last Supper
These pictures were taken at Tai-chan and my favorite Italian place on Thursday, July 29. These are my ex-wife's kids. They're pretty cute. Their father has disappeared, completely abandoning them with no contact whatsoever.
I guess you can't choose your parents.
I guess you can't choose your parents.
 |
| Kaho-chan, age 6 |
 |
| Kaho-chan |
 |
| Kaho-chan |
 |
| Kō-chan, age 8 |
 |
| Kō-chan |
 |
| Tai-chan |
 |
| Tai-chan. He turns 12 August 7th. |
 |
| Big brother takes charge |
Sunday, August 4, 2013
A Horrific End to this Journey? Not Quite. Read on . . .
I said the trip back down the mountain was going to be DIFFICULT. I did NOT say it was not going to be INTERESTING.
Even in a remarkably perverse way, when bad things happen, they can still be INTERESTING bad things.
But I like to stack the odds; I like to think that anything that is bad that CAN happen, WILL happen. I find that when I apply this logic to things such as a miserable trip back from Japan, I get a PERVERSE JOY when things that are bad and that I think are going to happen DON'T HAPPEN.
That makes me happy: "Hey I just dodged another bullet!" Or, "I managed to make it across that crevasse pretty well, in retrospect!"
And so it went yesterday.
The parting from my son was indeed a horrific feeling, a very bad event. But the moment it was over and my choices were taken away, I felt relieved. Then all I had to do was proceed to the next hurdle, which was getting to the airport, having a Strong Zero and writing an email to Brigitte explaining how horrible it had been to leave Tai-chan. Then I immediately felt better, again.
At check-in, I brushed off my tie, flashed my winningest smile and went into my "Check-in patter," as I like to call it. This little trick is to immediately try to differentiate myself from all the other passengers this agent has just seen or is going to see by surprising them. Now how many passengers do you think are going to lean over the curve of the agent's computer, pretending to do a spot check of availability, and then say "Any chance of an upgrade this morning?"
When there is no reply, I move in for the kill. "Look at this tie," I say. "Is this not a COOL tie?" She immediately looks at the tie and smiles. I then say, "How do you like my pink jacket? I'm always afraid people are going to think I'm weird for wearing a pink jacket, but usually they seem to like it! I always wear it when I fly because I don't want to look like a slob."
And she comments how it's a great jacket. "Don't I look like a pop star?," I say. "A J-Pop star!" (this is what the Japanese call their pop stars.) This immediately elicits a giggle.
And I am sent on my way to security and the boarding gate.
But, three minutes before boarding, an announcement is made over the PA. Will Mr. Nicholas Robinson please come to the desk? Hmm, I think, yes, Mr. Nicholas Robinson definitely WILL come to the desk.
Out comes a hand with a smile, and there it is: a minty-fresh boarding pass to replace the stinky one I am holding.
"Upgrade!" she smiles.
And so it is!! An upgrade to first class for the desperate 14-hour cattlethon!
Champagne as I sink back into my high-tech chair! Filet mignon with dinner! White wine! Dessert! With real cutlery!
Just because I wore a pink jacket.
Even the horror that was JFK could not undo THAT gift from the gods.
So here I am . . . in my chair, home again. Unfortunately my cheap ball-point black pen leaked into the pocket of my pink jacket, rendering it unwearable.
Fate wasn't going to let me off the hook THAT easy.
Pictures of China Airlines: First Class to follow.
Even in a remarkably perverse way, when bad things happen, they can still be INTERESTING bad things.
But I like to stack the odds; I like to think that anything that is bad that CAN happen, WILL happen. I find that when I apply this logic to things such as a miserable trip back from Japan, I get a PERVERSE JOY when things that are bad and that I think are going to happen DON'T HAPPEN.
That makes me happy: "Hey I just dodged another bullet!" Or, "I managed to make it across that crevasse pretty well, in retrospect!"
And so it went yesterday.
The parting from my son was indeed a horrific feeling, a very bad event. But the moment it was over and my choices were taken away, I felt relieved. Then all I had to do was proceed to the next hurdle, which was getting to the airport, having a Strong Zero and writing an email to Brigitte explaining how horrible it had been to leave Tai-chan. Then I immediately felt better, again.
At check-in, I brushed off my tie, flashed my winningest smile and went into my "Check-in patter," as I like to call it. This little trick is to immediately try to differentiate myself from all the other passengers this agent has just seen or is going to see by surprising them. Now how many passengers do you think are going to lean over the curve of the agent's computer, pretending to do a spot check of availability, and then say "Any chance of an upgrade this morning?"
When there is no reply, I move in for the kill. "Look at this tie," I say. "Is this not a COOL tie?" She immediately looks at the tie and smiles. I then say, "How do you like my pink jacket? I'm always afraid people are going to think I'm weird for wearing a pink jacket, but usually they seem to like it! I always wear it when I fly because I don't want to look like a slob."
And she comments how it's a great jacket. "Don't I look like a pop star?," I say. "A J-Pop star!" (this is what the Japanese call their pop stars.) This immediately elicits a giggle.
And I am sent on my way to security and the boarding gate.
But, three minutes before boarding, an announcement is made over the PA. Will Mr. Nicholas Robinson please come to the desk? Hmm, I think, yes, Mr. Nicholas Robinson definitely WILL come to the desk.
Out comes a hand with a smile, and there it is: a minty-fresh boarding pass to replace the stinky one I am holding.
"Upgrade!" she smiles.
And so it is!! An upgrade to first class for the desperate 14-hour cattlethon!
Champagne as I sink back into my high-tech chair! Filet mignon with dinner! White wine! Dessert! With real cutlery!
Just because I wore a pink jacket.
Even the horror that was JFK could not undo THAT gift from the gods.
So here I am . . . in my chair, home again. Unfortunately my cheap ball-point black pen leaked into the pocket of my pink jacket, rendering it unwearable.
Fate wasn't going to let me off the hook THAT easy.
Pictures of China Airlines: First Class to follow.
Friday, August 2, 2013
. . . and The Grey
Thursday, August 1, 2013
Wednesday, July 31, 2013
Portraits of Tai-chan
Time is running short; only today and tomorrow to spend with my beloved son. Then on that accursed plane taking me away from him. But I'm torn; I also want to go back to Brigitte and home.
I guess you can't always get what you want. But I've had the best of many world, and have spent almost 100% of my time with my dear son.
So here he is, and as I repeatedly say: he is one of the most incredibly handsome little boys I have ever seen, and I have no idea why, because neither I nor his mother possess anything remotely resembling good looks. And if you think he looks good in pictures, just wait till you actually get to meet him. I will do a lengthy video with him before I leave.
He is doing Japanese calligraphy in this series of photos.
I guess you can't always get what you want. But I've had the best of many world, and have spent almost 100% of my time with my dear son.
So here he is, and as I repeatedly say: he is one of the most incredibly handsome little boys I have ever seen, and I have no idea why, because neither I nor his mother possess anything remotely resembling good looks. And if you think he looks good in pictures, just wait till you actually get to meet him. I will do a lengthy video with him before I leave.
He is doing Japanese calligraphy in this series of photos.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)