Category Archives: Celebrating

It's a Dodger Weekend

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Many of you know, and others have suspected, but Nancy and I are a mixed marriage. Baseball didn’t mean much to me growing up as the Washington Senators moved out of town in 1971, but I’ve rediscovered the game since moving to San Diego and I’m a Padres fan. Alas, even though Nancy grew up in San Diego she has always been a Los Angeles Dodgers fan. I have a hard time rooting for a team I can’t see play often and Nancy can’t buck all the years of bleeding Dodger blue.

Most of the time she has to resign herself to watching the Padres play but this weekend we are in Los Angeles and have just come home from seeing the Dodgers resoundingly beat the Washington Nationals. It was a terrific game on many levels. Our seats were wonderful, the people around us were fun, and best of all, the Dodgers won. Their starting pitcher Derek Lowe can run hot or cold depending on the day but tonight he was hot. He pitched 8 innings and allowed only one hit and one walk. His sinker was sinking like crazy and he was almost unhittable. This was combined with strong hitting by the Dodgers and it made for a game that was not ever really in contention.

It’s also fun being in LA for the weekend. Work has been crazy for the both of us but I can’t take any time off right now; this quick trip was the best we can do. But it’s a nice break from the routine.

Happy Loving Day!

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Today is an important anniversary in the world of love, as well as the history of Virginia, where I grew up. On June 12, 1967 the Supreme Court ruled that states cannot prohibit couples from different races from obtaining marriage licenses. Sounds obvious now? It wasn’t once upon a time.

In 1958 Richard Loving married Mildred Jeter. Richard was white and Mildred was black; they lived in Virginia and could not obtain a marriage license so they traveled to Washington D.C. and married there. Upon their return to Virginia they were arrested; it seems it was against the law for them to even be married in Virginia. They violated the “Racial Integrity Act” (it wasn’t called the “Defense of Marriage Act” back then). In 1959 they were found in violation of the law and sentenced to prison but were granted a suspended sentence if they left Virginia for 25 years. They moved to Washington D.C. and filed suit. Finally it was heard by the Supreme Court and on this day the Court ruled unanimously that laws prohibiting interracial marriage are unconstitutional. You can read the opinion here.

Tragically Richard was killed in a car accident in 1975. Mildred passed away last month and they are buried together in Saint Stephen’s Baptist Church Cemetery in Central Point, Virginia.

God Bless them.

Old Men Dream

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No, the subject of this post does not acknowledge the fact that my gray hair and beard allow me to order from the senior’s menu at Coco’s Restaurant and Denny’s without being asked if I qualify.

Old Men Dream is the title of the book I’m currently reading. It was written by and old and dear friend, Pete Fullerton. If you’re of a certain age you may remember him as the bass guitarist of the 1960s folk group We Five. I first met Pete and his family in 1983 when I was a student at St. Patrick’s Seminary. After some hesitation I got involved in the Youth Ministry Program at St. William’s and St. Nicholas’ Catholic Churches in Los Altos, California. The two parishes combined and hired Greg Kremer as the Youth Minister. Pete and his wife Sue were an integral part of the ministry and I soon became friends with them and their 5 children. It’s hard to believe that it’s been 25 years.

When I first met Pete and Sue he was working for Lockheed and doing some charity work as he had time. A few years later they made the decision that Pete would devote his full time to the charity, Truck of Love. They do incredible work and I’ve been blessed to be able to support it; please check out their website. In 1997 after much prayer and discussion, Pete decided he wanted to live as a homeless person for a few months; Old Men Dream is his chronicle of this experience. Pete has always been a deeply spiritual man and he took the name “Old Man” from the Biblical Book of Joel: “Old men shall dream dreams and young men shall see visions.” As I read this book I’m finding that it’s surfacing all sorts of memories, and thoughts about his journey. Here they are in no particular order, save the order that they come out of my brain:

  • I’ve always been amazed at the simple courage Pete shows. We all claim to believe that God will take care of us and has our back, but Pete lives like he believes it. I’m ashamed to admit how much time and energy I spend making sure my stuff is safe. There is a point in his book where he is robbed of a few dollars and some food; it’s not much in the grand scheme of things, but when you’re living on the lowest rung it doesn’t take much to be devastating. Rather than act with anger or seeking revenge Pete reflects on what he can learn from this and how he can use this experience. There is a unique cruelty in the homeless from stealing from each other but other homeless people provide the easiest, and perhaps the only reasonable targets.
  • I can’t even begin to list all the thing Pete has taught me but the lesson I use the most is this: everyone has eyes and I try to look everyone in the eye, no matter the encounter. Think it’s obvious? OK, next time you’re at a restaurant and the server reaches around you to remove your empty plate (so he can wash it), see how deliberate you have to be to see what he looks like. I try to pick up the plate and hand it to him; sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn’t. If Pete were a priest he would excellent at hearing confessions because he has the ability to extend his trust and love within the first few words.
  • This is related to the previous point, but he has the gift to make anyone feel important. I’ve done some work with the homeless and I know that for many of them the most crushing part of life isn’t hunger but loneliness. I find much the same in hospice. Just today one of my patients joked that several people don’t call her anymore because they assume she must be dead by now. Many patients feel the crush of loneliness because they are too sick to go out, but are also not visited as often because they are seen as “not quite as alive as the rest of us.” This is particularly true with people who suffer from Alzheimer’s or other dementia. They can’t carry on a conversation anymore and may not be the person we once knew, but they still have not lost their need for connection.

More later, I’m sure. If you want to buy the book, it’s available only through the Truck of Love website.

Hey, Somebody Needed to Carry Her Luggage!

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Every year in early May Nancy and I head out on vacation; she has an annual convention of the Pediatric Academic Society. Last year it was in Toronto and next year we travel to Baltimore but this year it was in beautiful, downtown Honolulu. I’m not ordinarily crazy about the island of Oahu because it’s so built up but it was nice. We stayed at the Westin Moana Surfrider, one of the oldest hotels in Hawai’i, and it was just flat out relaxing. While Nancy was running off to meetings, I got to enjoy the beach and explore a little of the city. This isn’t for everybody, but I was moved by walking around the National Memorial Cemetery of the Pacific, also called the “Punchbowl” because it’s in an old volcano crater. Many of those buried there died in World War II including many who died at Pearl Harbor.

After the convention was over we moved to the island of Kauai where we once again stayed at the Poipu Kapili. The resort is really good and we recommend it to everyone. Unfortunately there is a great deal of development going on around it and we fear in the next few years it will become too congested. We’ll see.

As everyone who has been to Hawai’i knows, you can’t do anything without a rental car. When we travel we normally use Enterprise but they don’t have cars on Kauai. They sent us to Alamo and trust us, we won’t use them again. It’s commonly known that rental car places try to tack on extra charges (e.g. collision damage, liability, etc.). We have coverage for all these and most places understand that. It appears that Alamo has figured out a new charge: the Vehicle License Recoupment or Recovery Fee (VLRF). If the car is damaged while I’m using it, even if it’s not my fault, they will charge me the daily rate until the car is fixed. It was also explained to me that since we were in Hawai’i, any parts would come by cargo ship that takes a long time to get there. The agent also explained that nobody covers this and it is in my best interest to get this coverage. I took it because I was stuck but I’m convinced this is just another way they’ve found to get more money out of me. When I googled the VLRF, the first 5 pages were for Alamo so I’m guessing they are the only ones who have thought this up. My bet for what’s next: charging me for the time it takes the agent to explain this coverage.

In fairness, other than the construction and the rental car, the rest of the vacation was wonderful. We both enjoy snorkeling and my favorite spot is on the north shore, called Tunnels. Nancy also tried something called snuba. I was too freaked out to do this but she enjoyed it and they have promised us a DVD of her experience.

On our last day we toured the National Tropical Botanical Gardens. I’m really not a flower guy but it was a good tour and it gave me enough history of the island to keep me interested. This is a “don’t miss” even if you’re not a botanist.

It was a fun week. So next year we are headed to Baltimore. I’ll be boning up on my duckpin bowling.

Celebrating Books

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Yesterday I made my annual pilgrimage to the Los Angeles Times Festival of Books. This is the third time I’ve gone and I look forward to it every year. Warwick’s Books charters two buses and I did that again. It’s nice not having to drive up and back to LA but it can also be a little limiting: we arrived 5 minutes before the first panel I went to and the woman next to me on the bus had to leave her last session early to catch the bus. On the other hand, the price of the trip includes a swag bag and they bring local authors who lecture on the ride.

It’s held on the campus of UCLA; far and away the best part of the festival is just being on campus with so many people interested in books and publishing. The rest is gravy. Tommy Lasorda, longtime manager of the Los Angels Dodgers was there promoting his book I Live For This! Baseball’s Last True Believer. He’s a great storyteller and I was grateful to be there.

Part of the fun also is seeing the booths of all the different publishing houses and bookstores. They say it’s difficult to get a book published these days but given all the publishing houses that seems strange. So if you’re looking for Theosophical University Press or want to talk with someone from the Ayn Rand Institute this is your place.

One blemish this year is that I’ve noticed a number of people handing out leaflets for activities not related to books. The Jews for Jesus people were there handing out leaflets along with other Christian Churches. Obviously they have a right to be there and I’m not opposed to churches giving out information, but they were on public walkways and sometimes obstructed traffic. There was also a guy screaming about how people need to embrace atheism, especially in the African American Community, since religion is meant to keep people oppressed. Did I mention that he is as white as I am? Then again, UCLA is a public place and I’m not sure there’s anything anyone can do.

Bottom line: sign me up for next year.

Yosemite in the Rear View Mirror

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We’ve just returned from our annual pilgrimage to Yosemite. We go every year at this time for the Chef’s Holidays.

Knowing that this is a down time of year for the park they invite gourmet chefs to conduct cooking demonstrations. They also plan a magnificent dinner for the last night. We don’t normally attend the demonstrations as we go hiking around the valley floor. This year was, as usual, excellent. We sat at a table with 3 other couples and one of them (Mike and Tracey) got engaged earlier in the day and it was fun celebrating with them. It had snowed a few weeks before we got there; the good news was that the roads were clear. The bad news is that the snow was no longer fresh: it was hard and crusty and not adequate for snow angels.

Then again, it’s hard to lose with a week of vacation in Yosemite. Can’t wait until next year.

Happy Thanksgiving

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I am writing this on Thanksgiving Day, before we head to Nancy’s sister’s home and eat way too much. I’ve always loved Thanksgiving for many reasons. Mostly I like the fact that it’s a civil holiday but most of us think of it in religious terms. I can’t imagine not going to church on Thanksgiving. Last year I included President Lincoln’s 1863 Proclamation. I read this yesterday at my team meeting at work and realized that few of us know that the holiday is only 144 years old. Here’s what he wrote:

The year that is drawing toward its close has been filled with the blessings of fruitful fields and healthful skies. To these bounties, which are so constantly enjoyed that we are prone to forget the source from which they come, others have been added which are of so extraordinary a nature that they can not fail to penetrate and soften even the heart which is habitually insensible to the ever-watchful providence of Almighty God. In the midst of a civil war of unequaled magnitude and severity, which has sometimes seemed to foreign states to invite and to provoke their aggression, peace has been preserved with all nations, order has been maintained, the laws have been respected and obeyed, and harmony has prevailed everywhere, except in the theater of military conflict, while that theater has been greatly contracted by the advancing armies and navies of the Union. Needful diversions of wealth and of strength from the fields of peaceful industry to the national defense have not arrested the plow, the shuttle, or the ship; the ax has enlarged the borders of our settlements, and the mines, as well as the iron and coal as of our precious metals, have yielded even more abundantly than heretofore. Population has steadily increased notwithstanding the waste that has been made in the camp, the siege, and the battlefield, and the country, rejoicing in the consciousness of augmented strength and vigor, is permitted to expect continuance of years with large increase of freedom. No human counsel hath devised nor hath any mortal hand worked out these great things. They are the gracious gifts of the Most High God, who, while dealing with us in anger for our sins, hath nevertheless remembered mercy. It has seemed to me fit and proper that they should be solemnly, reverently, and gratefully acknowledged, as with one heart and one voice, by the whole American people. I do therefore invite my fellow-citizens in every part of the United States, and also those who are in foreign lands, to set apart and observe the last Thursday of November next as a day of thanksgiving and praise to our beneficent Father who dwelleth in the heavens. And I recommend to them that while offering up the ascriptions justly due to Him for such singular deliverances and blessings they do also, with humble penitence for our national perverseness and disobedience, commend to His tender care all those who have become widows, orphans, mourners, or sufferers in the lamentable civil strife in which we are unavoidably engaged, and fervently implore the imposition of the Almighty hand to heal the wounds of the nation and to restore it, as soon as may be consistent with the divine purpose, to the full enjoyment of peace, harmony, tranquillity, and union.
In testimony whereof I have hereunto set my hand and caused the seal of the United States to be affixed.
Done at the city of Washington, this 3d day of October, A.D. 1863, and of the Independence of the United States the eighty-eighth.

Thank you, President Lincoln.

Tony and Alicia Gwynn: They're a Class Act

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OK, so this is hardly a surprising headline, especially for us who live here in San Diego, but it’s worth saying again. Nancy and I were able to go to Cooperstown in July to see Tony Gwynn and Cal Ripkin inducted in the Baseball Hall of Fame. This past Saturday we went to a dinner for the San Diego Foundation where Tony and Alicia were the keynote speakers.

The Foundation is a pool of resources; people who have money they wish to donate can combine with other people. The Foundation provides resources and information so individuals and groups can find good places to donate. It also provides a place where funds can be invested prior to being donated. Nancy’s father has a fund called the Graff Family Foundation (that we will administer when he’s done with it); he was invited to the dinner but given the keynote speakers he gave the tickets to us. It was wonderful.

Tony and Alicia also administer a fund called the Tony and Alicia Gwynn Foundation. After dinner, instead of giving a speech, they answered questions and talked about how they continue to give back to the community. They are both articulate in their belief that they have worked hard, but have also been blessed. Alicia is an ordained minister and talked about how “to whom much is given much is expected” (Luke 12:48). Tony talked about how he is a public figure and he needs to act like one. He spoke about helping children make good decisions by being good role models. He is certainly that.

The funniest part of the evening was before the dinner when I introduced myself to him. I shook his hand and said: “Hello, I’m Tom Allain.” He smiled and said: “Hello, I’m Tony Gwynn.” As if I didn’t know who he is. But somehow the fact that he didn’t assume his fame was refreshing. I’m sure he won’t remember me but I’ll never forget meeting him.

Remembering, Celebrating, Honoring (in no particular order)

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These past few weeks since the fires here in San Diego have been emotionally eventful and I’ve lost track of how many times I’ve said: “I need to blog about that.” Today’s entry is kind of a catch all, known in the vernacular as the whole megillah.

  1. A few days ago we commemorated Veteran’s Day, originally called “Armistice Day.” It’s always November 11th and it began as a celebration of the end of World War I (called “The Great War” back then). It’s easy to remember: the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month. According to legend the peace treaty was signed early in the morning but they held off making it effective until 11AM. Hard to imagine they agreed to continue the war for a few more hours.
  2. The day before, November 10th is the is birthday of the Marines. They were created in 1775 by an act of Congress. They continue to be a strong presence in San Diego and around the world.
  3. In the weeks since the fire I’ve had occasion to drive around to see the damage. I’m amazed at the extent of the burned areas, but more amazed by the homes saved. There are several places where the fire damage has gone right up the edge of someone’s home and stopped. I’m sure some of it is because the owner had the forethought to clear the area around their homes. But I’m also convinced that these homes were save by the heroism of the firefighters. It’s nice to see signs in those neighborhoods thanking the first responders. I couldn’t agree more.
  4. Finally I had occasion to go downtown today and see 1,500 people take the oath to become citizens. They have had to fill out untold forms, wait untold months and years, and learn our history and government, and still want to join us. It was an inspiration. One of our newest citizens is my coworker Paola. Don’t tell her but at our next team meeting we’re going to celebrate her work and decision.

I Always Knew My Father Was Hip

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This past Monday my father went under the knife and had his right hip replaced. It’s been an eventful week for him, and for me as I kept in touch from 3000 miles away. Not to keep you in suspense, the operation was a success and he’s home and happy.

It’s been interesting for me on several levels. I remember a generation ago my grandfather had both hips replaced. I don’t remember the exact year but I think it was 1974; it was much different then. The artificial hips weren’t nearly as good as they are today and at the time they weren’t supposed to last very long. People like my grandfather were told they should wait until the pain was unbearable because they (the doctors) didn’t want to replace the hip more than once in a lifetime. It was a serious enough event that we drove 500 miles to be with him when he had the operation. I remember at the time thinking he was so old. I have to laugh because he was 72: four years younger than my father is now. My mother at the time was 9 years younger than I am now and my younger nephew Chris is 2 years older than I was at the time. I guess this is all the proof I need that the torch has been passed.

Back to my father: he was certainly ready to have the operation because it was really making it difficult to keep up the walking he likes to do. That said I’m not sure he was completely ready to be a patient. He’s not a guy who get sick. I remember only once when I was in high school that he missed work because he was sick. When I got home from school he was in the backyard chopping wood. In one of our conversations this week we agreed that this was probably the longest he’s been in bed since he learned to walk as a child. It certainly wasn’t easy for him to need help with getting out of bed etc. but he did really well. The hospital had horrible food but that’s not a surprise. But the fact that they didn’t have ESPN is, to our minds, a human rights violation. In any case he’s home and on the mend and I’m eager to see him being able to walk again without pain. Love ya Dad.