Saturday, July 30, 2011

Another Pleasant Valley Sunday (Almost)


Today marks a full week that we’ve been in California.  And, at the risk of sounding immodest, we’ve accomplished a lot.  We’ve found and secured a home, arranged for water, gas, and electricity (rather important to quality of life, I think), learned to navigate our commutes and neighborhoods without maps, and have adjusted to west coast time (even Mimi).

Of course, as with any major move, it hasn’t been without its challenges.  Thankfully, many of these are temporary.  Living out of a suitcase, loss of Netflix, no access to records, favorite couch withdrawal (yes, the couch really is that amazing): all of these inconveniences will be rectified within 24 to 48 hours of the moving truck’s arrival.  But until it comes and we finally set up our home, we’ll continue to feel like guests in California.  Very welcome and grateful guests, but guests nonetheless. 

For the past week we’ve been living my mother and step father in a suburb in the East Bay.  We’re also only 5 minutes from Sumie’s sister and her family.  It’s been wonderful experience, but one tinged with a bit of culture shock.  We’re just not quite sure what to do!  Because we’re not members of the community we’re really not aware of what’s available and, with everything so spread-out, it’s difficult to discover.  We have been trying to make the most of it, though, before we move back to the city next week. 

There’s a wonderful neighborhood pool nearby and we’ve been making the most of it.  Mimi has really taken to the water.  We also have access to a Jacuzzi in the back yard.  Mimi took her first dip last night.  Here she is with me enjoying the warm water and a little folk music on the stereo.  Overweight white guy sitting in a Jacuzzi tub, listening to 1960s folk music, and enjoying a glass of Napa Valley wine.  To me, that sounds quintessentially Northern California Suburban.  Maybe I’m acclimating better than I thought. 
We also took Mimi to Whole Foods.  Yes, NYC also had Whole Foods, but it’s different out here.  The food’s the same, but look at the size of the carts!  They’re  huge!  This shopping trip was the first time we had ever put Mimi in a shopping cart child seat.  She loved it!  She was perfectly content to sit back and be steered around the store.  Well, at least until we got that bag of popcorn.  She must have known what was inside because she refused to let that sucker go! 
One difference I’ve noticed between the city and the suburbs, and even between NYC and San Francisco, is the use of strollers as both baby conveyance and status symbols.  In Manhattan, we bordered on socially acceptable with our City Mini and Maclaren strollers.  It was amazing how much people dropped on strollers in the town.  However, I understand a bit better as to why now.  With a child, a stroller is an absolute necessity in Manhattan; it is one of the most important tools you will purchase as a father or mother.  They’re used for transportation, shopping, establishing social status, bumping the elderly off the sidewalk, and, particularly on the Upper West and East Sides, clogging the entryway of every single diner at brunch.  They become full-fledged cars in a sense.  I’d much rather haul a giant stroller down three flights of steps, only to bring it back up an hour later, than attempt to find parking all over again. 

In comparison, we’ve noticed that the Bjorn, the Ergo, and bicycle carriers seem to rule San Francisco.  For me, I think this is going to be a welcome change.  Now, with a garage for storage and easy access to Golden Gate Park, a bicycle and baby carrier may be in store.  Lord knows my gut could use it! 

Thursday, July 28, 2011

Gimme Shelter: House-hunting in San Francisco


Today our tenant moved into our New York City apartment.  Though we signed away the apartment a week ago and have been living with my mother in California for the past several days, we didn’t feel that we’d be truly “homeless” until our old place was occupied.  We didn’t want to be homeless.  Yes, there’s an inordinate number of souls “out of doors” in San Francisco, but we weren’t ready to join them just yet.  And besides, Mimi gets filthy enough as it is even with access to bathing facilities. 

Up to this point the apartment search had been a bit discouraging.  As I wrote in an earlier post, I had applied for an apartment when I was out in San Francisco at the beginning of the month and, for reasons still unknown and probably unfathomable if ever discovered, had been rejected.  It stung, but I’m used to it.  Just ask me about my high school dating record. 

With Sumie and I both in SF, the prospects looked better.   We started our search on Monday with an apartment that seemed ideal: three bedroom, two bath, renovated, decent neighborhood, parking for one car, and in our price range.  We thought about taking it, but it was the first apartment of our search.  We had to see more.  We asked the owner who wanted a decision by the end of the day if he could hold off until 6:30pm the following day.  We were his preferred candidates so he said, “OK.” 

We saw three additional places, one on Monday and two on Tuesday, and while they all had their strong points, nothing seemed as good as that first one.  So, at 6:10, we called to say we’d take it.  But the call was in vain.  We learned that the apartment had been rented to three graduate students just 10 minutes ago.  “Really,” we thought, “at the open house you told us you just kicked out three graduate students because they were bad tenants.  Why couldn’t you wait?”  We never got an answer, but, as it turned out, it was good we called late. 

I was beyond despondent, though, Tuesday evening and Wednesday morning.  As usual, Sumie kicked my butt and got me into gear again, searching Craigslist like a speed freak and shooting e-mails out to every realtor known to man.  By Wednesday night we had another 4-5 showings lined up for Thursday, Friday, and Saturday. 

Today at noon we visited a charming little row house in the inner Richmond district.  It was a two bedroom, with a sun-room, that had just undergone a full renovation.  The back yard was also undergoing a similar renovation, a new cement slab having just been poured and further landscaping to be completed later that week.   The home also had a two-car garage.  Thinking we may want this one, I had sent in our application via the web the night before.  When we arrived at the home the agent notified that if we wanted it, it was ours.  We said yes, and then some.  It’s such a relief to know that not only will we have a place to live, we’ll have a genuine home for Mimi: a place she can explore with her walker, ride a tricycle outside, and call her very own.  Oh, and having maintained two cars in Manhattan with street parking for 9 years, I think I’ve earned that two-car garage. 

Closing the deal on this rental has gotten both Sumie and I thinking about the places we’ve lived in since college.  When I left California for Japan, I was placed in a little city just outside Tokyo.  My apartment, though cheap, was a not ideal.  Built in the early 60s from fiberboard, straw, three or four two-by-fours, gum, and mud, it was hot in the summer, freezing in the winter, drafty always.  The shower had a crank start.  I’m not kidding.  My hot water was heated by natural gas, but to get the hot water going I had to spark the burner on the shower unit.  There’s nothing like squatting naked in a tile bathroom, the temperature hovering at a balmy “just-below-freezing,” trying to start the shower equivalent of a rusty Ford Model T.  There were, however, two saving graces to this apartment: it was close to my host family and next door to a fellow who has become one of my best friends. 

I’ve had my fair share of trials in NYC as well.  My first apartment was a mixture of dank, shouting, bedbugs, and awkward encounters on the street below (“Get the hell out of Harlem, you damn hypocrite!” a rather drunken fellow once remarked as I was walking home).  My second was the size of a postage stamp but still cost $1,000 per month.  The third apartment, this one finally shared with Sumie, was quite good, but with only 500 square feet for two people, at the cost of well above the average American mortgage, it wasn’t exactly the best value. 

Still, having moved to San Francisco, I’m quite thankful for these challenges.  By taking these chances, by having lived far less comfortably and in far more expensive locales than when I grew up, I’ve developed an appreciation for simple pleasures.  In most of America, a small two bedroom with a fireplace, a garage, and a miniscule backyard would be scraping the bottom of the barrel.  But for me, it’s absolute luxury.  In my mind, still trapped in a Manhattan mentality, this equates to $5000.00 for rent, $1,000 for parking, and my first born for the yard.  I won’t tell you how much we’re paying in San Francisco for all this, but it is far less expensive and I’ve been able to keep my daughter. 

Stretching yourself when you’re young, really going beyond your comfort zone, can pay significant benefits in the future.  I think Sumie and I, as a I result of our lives in Tokyo and Manhattan, will always be on the frugal / modest side when it comes to our future homes.  Well, at least until we win the lottery. 

Mimi update: she’s been enjoying California immensely.  Today she finally woke from a full night’s sleep, having adjusted to West Coast time, and enjoyed her second day at the local pool.  I think she’s going to be a swimmer just like her father.  She also discovered a new park with her favorite type of swing.  Things are definitely coming together for Mimi as well!

 -Steve

Tuesday, July 26, 2011

Mimi Loses Her First Friend: R.I.P. Harry-chan


On the morning of Sunday May 24th, Mimi kissed Harry-chan, the Iwasaki’s beloved sheltie, goodbye as she prepared to board the car for the airport.  Sumie and I watched her and thought, “She’s really going to miss him.”  I’m sure Mimi, though I have no way of proving it, was thinking the same thing.  Harry was not only Mimi’s first word, he was the only one who could always make her smile just by walking into the room. 

I think Harry-chan loved Mimi, too, for early on Monday morning, after having wished Mimi well in her new life in California, Harry passed away peacefully in his sleep.  Sumie and I are so thankful to him for seeing off our little girl.  Despite his short time with her, we think he’s had an impact that will color Mimi’s life for decades to come.  He was just that kind of dog. 
Harry entered Sumie’s life shortly before I did (maybe that was the reason behind my initial jealousy).  The runt of the litter, he left his birthplace in Gilroy to join the Iwasaki’s around the same time that Sumie and Kae began their first quarter at U.C. Davis. 
I’ve had several dogs in my life.  They were all good pets, but never really more than that: pets.  Harry, though, was truly part of the family.  I had a little trouble understanding this at first.  The “finals episode,” for instance, really perplexed me.

It was finals week at UC Davis.  Sumie, Kae, and I had been studying like mad one evening as we all had several important exams the following day.  It looked like we weren’t going to get much sleep between the studying and the stress.  And that’s why Kae and Sumie’s response to the following situation was so odd to me. 

Their parents were out of town and had left Harry in Shusaku’s care for a few days.  Despite the impending finals, calls were made to ensure that Shu was going to be home early enough that night to feed and walk Harry at his usual time.  When it was determined that he’d be a little late, Sumie and Kae went into action.  Within 10 minutes they had packed their books and jumped into the car to rescue their beloved Harry-chan.  Personally, I thought this was insane, but there was no arguing with them.  Harry was facing potential inconvenience and he would be brought back to the apartment.  Roughly 5 hours later I received a call from Sumie saying that she and Kae had gotten back to their apartment with Harry and were ready to begin studying again.  It was after 1:00am.  I didn’t understand it then, but I think I get it now.  It’s not the most logical decision, but when it comes to your family, sometimes you just can’t help yourself.  And, in the end, that less logical choice is usually right.    

Harry-chan was a part of virtually every family gathering.  Here a few from over the years:
But he was, first and foremost, Mr. and Mrs. Iwasaki's youngest child:
He had watched the kids of the family grow:
And had been a part of my life with Sumie since the very beginning:

Harry had even taken care of Sumie on the rare instances that she drank too much!
Harry was always gentle with the Grandchildren.  He had a natural instinct to watch over them, as all good shelties should. 
And, perhaps most importantly for me and Sumie, he was a loving friend and companion to our little Mimi.  Even when she tried to take away his food!
Despite their short time together, and neither of them being able to use language, Harry was a great teacher for Mimi.  He inspired in her a love of animals, a desire to use language (her first word being wan-wan), and a more gentle nature.  We saw one of Harry's lessons come to fruition just last night when we were visiting with Mimi's cousins Nana and Sayuri.  They have a cat, named J.J., who, despite the odds, is a virtual feline copy of Harry when it comes to temperment.  Mimi was, at first, a little afraid of J.J., but, thanks to her experiences with Harry, she eventually warmed up to him, too.  By the end of the evening she had her third official new word:  "J.J." 
Harry, we will never forget you.  And though she may not remember all you did for her, you will always be a part of Mimi's life as a result.  We will all miss you dearly. 

-Steve, Sumie, and Mimi





Monday, July 25, 2011

What’s Most Important May Surprise You


Exactly two months ago Sumie and I shared a small strawberry shortcake with Mimi in honor of her first birthday.  That May 24th was also my last day of my old job.  It was a turning point in our lives.; a celebration of the accomplishments of the last nine years – the New York years – and the first step in the new adventure to come.

Today, July 24th, we arrived in San Francisco.  For the first time in 10 years, we arrived without a return ticket.  It’s now official.  We’re here and we’re here to stay. 

Exhausted from the apartment cleaning extravaganza of the 23rd, Sumie and I still managed to wake at 5am on Sunday the 24th to make our 8:30am flight.  We had stayed the night with Sumie’s parents who, we found out, had a wonderful little surprise for us.  They had booked us a limo to the airport.   We were able New York than in one of its ubiquitous symbols: the black Lincoln Town Car (which,  like us, may soon be gone from the New York landscape).  In the morning the entire family gathered to see us off.  Mimi gave Harry-chan, her favorite playmate, and Oba-chan one last kiss before we all headed to the airport. 

 The trip out was relatively uneventful.  Mimi decided that she only needed about 45 minutes of total sleep, despite having woken up 2 hours early.   I think she was excited.

Even with walks up and down the plane every 30 minutes, Mimi still found time to try a little something new.  We had downloaded a Thomas the Tank Engine story to our computer, which would provide great video, but we only had earbuds for audio.  Mimi had never experienced these and was entirely mesmerized when she discovered that some little white button on a string contained the voice of her favorite storyteller.  She cracked a huge smile!  Though she was able to hold the earbud against her ear with some accuracy by the end of the video, I’m still not convinced that she really understands the purpose behind headphones.  Despite the occasional smile when they were used correctly, they spent most of the time in Mimi’s mouth. 

6 hours came and went and we found ourselves at the baggage claim by around noon pacific time.  The vast majority of our belongings are now in storage, so we only brought the essentials.  This came down to 3 duffels, 2 messenger bags, a diaper bag, “old red” (our massive travel suitcase), a stroller, baby car seat, and my trusty business carry-on.  Packing for a flight when you’re moving is entirely different from preparing for any business trip or vacation.  One needs to pack not only the essentials for getting through the day, but also for getting your life back on line.  It’s a scary proposition.  

I had decided to put everything we absolutely couldn’t live without into my reliable carry-on.  Over the past 10+ years it has accompanied me across the United States and Canda, to Japan, and England without complaint.   What better way to ensure that all our vital documents and possessions were protected than by travelling with them immediately above us, snug in an overhead bin?  And with everything essential to our future life contained in this one bag, there’s no way we’d ever let it out of our sight, right?  The little green roller thus contained the following:
·      Passports for me, Sumie, and Mimi
·      Social Security Cards
·      Sumie’s Green Card
·      All our Birth and Marriage Certificates
·      All materials Sumie needed for her new position in SF
·      The ownership certificate for our co-op in NYC
·      Our most treasured personal jewelry, including the Bulova Accutron Spaceview watch my father gave me the day before he died

Now, back to the baggage claim.  Naturally it was there that I realized, and only after a 20 minute delay because of “mechanical baggage delivery failure,” that we were a bag short.  It’s not all that hard to guess which one it was, is it? 

“How can this be?”  I thought.  “I’m normally so anal about these kinds of things.  I’ve never lost a bag.  I’ve never even left anything on a plane.  What the hell!?”  I immediately checked with Sumie and my Mom (some may say that I was preparing to blame them) to see if they had moved my carry-on while I was over at the carousel picking up the remainder of our bags.  No, they hadn’t.  That’s when the penny finally dropped.  I had left my bag – the one bag that we actually needed – behind.

Paper white and on the verge of a mental breakdown with a hint of cardiac arrest, I asked the baggage claim information if they had happened to find my bag.  I thought back.  How could I let go of that case?  And then it dawned on me: the stroller.  We had gate checked the stroller and then picked it up in the jetway.  I must have left my carry-on there.  And, many, many thanks to God or whatever power you want to thank (I’m thanking them all right now), I was right. 

Despite never being able to live this mistake down (Sumie would have to forget one of our children for met to be in the clear), I did realize something rather cool.  The reason I forgot my bag on the jetway was because, in picking up the stroller, that bag was not the most important object in my life: Mimi was.  She’d had a tough flight and I needed to get her in the stroller and out of the airport.  It was as simple as that.  To be clear, I’m not blaming my little girl.  I’m just rather amazed at how a child can so drastically, even violently, shift one’s priorities, even if it’s only for a few minutes. 

Happy to say that we recovered the case and are now enjoying a beautiful evening with Grandma and Grandpa Reber.  All told, it was an eventful, but successful, first day in California.  We will miss everyone in New York, though, more than they know! 

Friday, July 22, 2011

Goodbye NYC

Tonight I am alone in Manhattan.  The apartment is empty, save for a few boxes, donations, and dust bunnies, and I am camped out on an airbed on the living room floor.  The last several hours have been spent lugging the "disposables" of life down the stairs in heat that, despite the late hour, defies any logical explanation.  The largest metropolitan region of the US simply cannot be this hot and humid and still maintain life.  And yet, here we are.

Tonight's post is a little "thank-you" to Manhattan,  a city that has, despite my humble origins, become my home town.  It is the location of our first home (here in the Cherokee), the city of my marriage (the bureaucratic city hall ceremony of 4 minutes after 30 minutes waiting in line, as well as the service at the UN and the reception at Beacon in midtown), and the birthplace of my daughter.  My Manhattan is no longer that image we get in movies or TV: midtown, Times Square, and massive apartments somehow acquired by scroungers who work but one day a week at Starbucks.  It is the city of my family.  And, despite this move to SF, I have a feeling it always will be.

Sometime around 5th grade I started watching Saturday Night Live (I still maintain that the cast from about 1987 or so to 1990 is the best ever assembled) and started to fall in love with New York.  It was around this time that my father told me that he could see me living in Manhattan.  He may have simply been attempting to feed his only son's dream of someday becoming a comedy writer, but, at the risk of sounding hokey, I think he may have been on to something.  He didn't say I'd work for SNL, he said he could "see me living in Manhattan."  That thought stuck.  My dad didn't necessarily plant the seed for someday living in New York, but he did confirm for me, all those years ago, that it was possible.

The opportunity to actually move to New York wouldn't occur for another ten years or so, but when it did, I didn't hesitate.  Sumie had been accepted to Columbia for medical school.  Me, I had just finished a year teaching English outside Tokyo and was still keeping Japan time by sleeping through the day on my mom's couch.  After a month of lethargy I was ready to move to New York.  I set out with a $79.00 Amtrak ticket (yes, that's over 3 days without a bed or shower and I stank upon my arrival at Penn Station), about $2,000 in cash, and a large blue suitcase.  Though my family thought I was nuts, I was oddly at ease.  Countless individuals had made their way in NYC with far less.  Why couldn't I do it, too?  Within a month of my arrival I had an apartment, a job, and even a new car!

To live in Manhattan one has to take a little bit of joy, or at least pride, in the sacrifices and hardships the city so readily provides.  I was not without my share.  I left my first apartment - a shared, railroad one-bedroom shoddily converted into two (I got the room with the sole window facing the air-shaft and a lively community of families who spent their off-hours arguing) - after 18 months as a result of bed bugs.  Yes, bed bugs.  It was hell.  I had PTSD for a year.  Every piece of lint, every speck of dust, was a potential blood sucker and sleep sapper.  But, though NYC is now the US home to bed bugs, it's also one of the few places you can instantly escape them.

After attempting to kill the blood suckers, to no avail, I finally decided to bail.  Thanks to Craigslist, I had an apartment viewing arranged within a day, and then secured the studio apartment a day after that.  It was tiny, but my own.  I moved in my sparse belongings and, to ensure none of the creepy-crawlies followed me, I took advantage of the near-zero fahrenheit February temperatures to freeze my new home.  I turned off the steam, opened the windows, and let the cold do its magic.  The only hitch was that I needed to come in twice a day to chip away the ice in the toilet.  Yes, chipping away ice in a toilet.  This is why so many dream of coming to Manhattan.

Despite the hardships, it is true.  Many people still dream of living in Manhattan.  For the first few years after leaving California I'd often be asked, upon my many trips home, where I was now living.  I'd answer "New York," which was always met with, "Oh.  Where in New York?"  Whenever I answered "Manhattan" the response was often tinged with a bit of awe.  So many people I met shared that they had always wanted to live there, if only for a few years.  I hate to admit it, but whenever someone shared that he had wanted to live in Manhattan I always felt a bit proud that I had actually made it happen. 

There are so many stories to share.  There's the night when I came home late from work, with some leftovers from a dinner out, and was greeted by a homeless woman who, after telling me she lived in Riverside Park with 28 cats, asked me if I liked Tina Turner.  I, of course, answered in the affirmative.  My reward: a late-night rendition of "What's Love Got To Do With It."  Quite good, actually.  Needless to say, she got my leftovers as well as a few dollars.

Another story helped to reaffirm that, despite my late arrival, New York really is my home.  A few days before my wedding, I was driving around the city and outlying areas with my groomsmen picking up items for the ceremony.  Now, on the eve of leaving New York, I think it is fair to say that despite my upbringing I am quintessentially a New York driver.  This, however, does not go down well in California.  A friend of mine, while riding through the city with me, commented that, "I always thought you were insane behind the wheel, but now I realize you're just a New Yorker."  This was the ultimate confirmation.  For me, at least, to drive like a New Yorker is to be a New Yorker.

Despite being born in California, I will be coming to San Francisco as a New Yorker.  My wife, who was born in Tokyo, will also be coming as a New Yorker.  And my daughter, of better stock than her father or mother, will be coming to the west coast as a Manhattan native.  We are all excited for the adventure San Francisco holds for us, but, at the same time, I think that no matter how long we live in California our hearts will always be in New York.  It's like the opposite of that song "I left my heart in San Francisco."  Funny, there are so many songs about being in or going to New York, but none about leaving it.  Perhaps one who loves it never really does.

And to close, here are a couple pictures of Mimi enjoying one of her last evenings in the city.  She'll continue to eat wires in San Francisco, but I wonder if it will ever be quite the same!



-Steve

Wednesday, July 20, 2011

Beagles Before Bounty Hunters

The process of moving, I'm afraid, makes for some disjointed blog posts.  It's hard to develop a cohesive thread when your life is entirely upended.  As we pack we're also scouting places in SF, closing out accounts here in NY, preparing the apartment for our renter, and trying to scratch as many items off our NYC bucket list as possible.  Mimi's adding to the frenetic atmosphere with her own special approach to packing: 1. Find box; 2. Remove contents; 3. Drool on contents; 4. Relocate contents to locations unreachable or unknown (there are such places in a 650 sq. ft. apartment and Mimi has, somehow, found them); Repeat.

In terms of the bucket list, we've scratched off two in the past two days.  Despite yesterday's downright offensive humidity - something I will not miss in SF - we trudged over to Patsy's Pizzeria for a last slice of genuine NYC thin crust pizza.  Patsy's has been around since 1933, and while it doesn't get the same play as Grimaldi's or some of the other upstarts, it's consistently good, family friendly, and there's never a wait.  I think Mimi enjoyed her first pizza out with Mama and Papa.  Well, at least she really liked the food.  Here's her reaction when I tried to take another piece.

Born and raised in California, I still prefer - and it hurts to admit this - California pizza to pizza from NYC.  To be specific, a pie from Mountain Mikes with double cheese and triple pepperoni.  But this isn't to say that one pie is better than the other.  I have a theory about pizza preferences and it's held up fairly well over the years.  The pizza you love is the pizza you grew up with: the favorite pizza of your childhood.  It's the ultimate take-out comfort food.

We also had a chance to catch up with a few friends at the Boat Basin.  This is a relatively unknown NYC attraction, graced with mediocre food and only passable drinks, that offers one of the best outdoor dining experiences in the city.  Actually within Riverside park, the Boat Basin Cafe is nestled directly under the 79th street exit roundabout and features some of the best Hudson River views going, particularly around sunset.  There are no signs for it and no parking.  As a result the crowd is local, laid-back, and generally ready to drink.  If you get a chance, and it's between May and October, definitely go!
Two days ago we packed up the vast majority of Mimi's toys.  So far she hasn't missed them.  I'm taking this as a clear sign that Mimi needs fewer playthings and would benefit from a greater influx of parent-oriented toys, such as a pinball (Sumie will probably disagree with me on this one).  Of the few toys remaining her favorite is a little pull-along puppy we picked up a few days ago.
She calls for him by name, "Wan-wan!," and loves to give him kisses.  I'm rather amazed at how she has taken to him, almost as if he were a real puppy.  She can't pull him around that well yet, despite numerous efforts, so Sumie has tied his leash to Mimi's walker.  Now Mimi takes him for a walk up the hall to the bedroom and back, perhaps with a quick stop in the kitchen or bathroom, at least 12 times a day.  I kind of doubt that any dog, let alone a plastic one, needs to be walked so incessantly, but Mimi's pretty insistent about it.  Perhaps she knows something I don't.
But Mimi's puppy care isn't just a matter of walking and kissing.  She knows that dogs need to eat, too.  Earlier tonight Sumie encircled Mimi with a few of her remaining toys.  Before too long, Mimi took out a plastic spoon and cup and began to feed them.  Amazingly, and I still don't know how she knew to do this, she focused on feeding the two dogs. 
Now, she's seen Sumie's parents' sheltie, Harry, eat at home, but he always ate from a bowl.  Mimi was feeding these doggies with a spoon, just as she would feed herself.  And when that got tiresome, she'd bring the cup up to their mouths, tilting it so that they could get a sip.  She was feeding them like we would a child, not a puppy.  At the same time she was refusing to feed any of the more "human" toys, the Star Wars characters.  To me this was fascinating.  In some ways, I think, Mimi saw the dog toys as more like her - more needing of care.  As I mentioned last time when discussing taking Mimi's house apart, I think she's beginning to extend feelings to objects now, to relate to objects in her world as people may relate to her.  I'm very excited to see where this takes her, particularly after she starts talking.

It's not all kindness, though.  Apparently, Mimi, like Lando Calrissian, has no love for the Empire or the specialists they hire.  "Bounty Hunters," I can hear her say, "We don't need their scum."  I think the video below proves it.  No matter how much I tell her, in Japanese, that Boba Fett is hungry and needs to eat, she just isn't having it.
-Steve

Monday, July 18, 2011

Boxing Up Memories

The last few days have been spent in a sea of boxes, bubble-wrap, clothes to keep, clothes to donate, clothes I wish fit but assuredly don't, and lots and lots of memories.  As such, the apartment has become a bit more difficult to navigate, both physically and mentally.  Mimi's adapting well, though.  She's turned the house into her own personal obstacle course.
Sumie and I have been married a little over 5 years now, but we've known each other for nearly 14.  With moving from California to Japan, then to NYC, and now back to the west coast, each item still with us is a reminder of a step in the journey we've taken together.  Boxing up my stereo today was a complete mini-trek through my life, so far, with Sumie.  Here's a component-by-component recap:
  1. ADS 710 Speakers:  I purchased these late '70s beauties from a family friend shortly before I met Sumie.  They are not the most accurate, but they sound faithful, human, and warm.  I'd finally found what I was looking for in a speaker.  Now if only I could find a girl... 
  2. NAD AV713 Amplifier:  Purchased from "Sounds by Dave" in Chico also shortly before I met Sumie.  I now had the amp and the speakers, but no one to share them with.  
  3. Mirage 12in Subwoofer / Invisible Speaker Cable:  I bought these about a year after meeting Sumie, along with a pair of rear-channel speakers, and they were her first experience with my audio "habit."  I was attempting to take my system to the next level by turning it into a home theater.  Was I also trying to take my relationship to the next level?  Perhaps.  But, as I have learned, purchasing audio equipment is generally not the best way to impress your honey.  In fact, it's rather one of the dumbest. 
  4. Elekit TU-878 CD Player:  This was a Christmas/Birthday present from Sumie, given to me almost 10 years ago.  It remains the only piece of audio equipment Sumie has ever bought for me (yes, I had wanted it that much.).  As the name implies, this CD player came as a kit.  A serious kit.  You start off with a blank circuit board and a bag of transistors, capacitors, and diodes and apply liberal doses of solder and patience.  The instructions were all in Japanese so, before she gave it to me, Sumie had translated the entire 20+ page manual (I have no idea how long it took her).  That she had thought of this meant even more to me than the gift itself (as proof to this, I still have the manual!).  I locked myself in my shabby apartment and spent a full night, the following day, and then, after getting a few hours rest, the majority of the following night putting it together.  By 3am I was done.  I plugged it in and, naturally, nothing happened.  I immediately called Sumie, despite the time, and was in tears.  I felt like I had failed her.  She reassured me that we'd find a way to fix it and, after hanging up, I prepared for sleep.  It was only then that I noticed that my soldering iron was still hot.  Eventually my brain won out over the late night and long hours to determine that I had plugged in the soldering iron instead of the CD player.  I switched the plugs and the little bugger fired right up.  I immediately called Sumie (who was probably getting a bit annoyed at this point) and shared the good news with her.  This little CD player is the only piece of my system that I will never, under any circumstances, part with.  
  5. Luxman LV105 Amplifier:  I love this amp for two reasons:  First, it is a "hybrid" amp - half tube amp and half solid-state - which gives it a very warm, but also very accurate sound.  Second, I bought it nearly 10 years ago from this odd man in a grungy recycle shop in Japan for about $50.00.  Perhaps the best deal I've ever made and it was all done in Japanese!
  6. B&W 303 Speakers:  These are currently in storage, where I think Sumie prefers them.  I purchased these from a little audio second-hand shop in Japan shortly before I met Sumie for a date - our first in over a week.  In doing so I learned a valuable lesson: never greet your date with a giant pair of speakers, particularly if your plan is to carry them around with you the entire evening.  I don't care how good the speakers are, or what kind of deal you got, trust me, it will make the wrong impression.  
  7. Music Hall MMF-5 Turntable: Finding this table required months of research, as well as a high-speed lunch-time journey to Brooklyn, but it has been well worth the investment.  Sumie and I have been listening to vinyl for about three years now and, I'm happy to say, that she prefers it to CDs!  I love my turntable because it's been the only item that has sparked even the tiniest glimmer of audio snobbery in my otherwise "Whatever.  I can't hear any difference." wife.  
  8. KEF Reference Speakers:  These are the ones I wrote about in my post "One Man's Garbage."  They sound fantastic, are relatively rare, feature a cool design, and represent the pinnacle of my dumpster-diving success in NYC.  They'll always remind me of our time in NYC and the many, many walks Sumie and I would take together through the city streets.  
Now, my components are beginning to come full-circle.  Here's Mimi helping me pack my NAD Amp, purchased 12 years before she was born.  I think she has pretty good taste in audio equipment for a 13-month old.  Who knows, maybe someday it will power a pair of speakers in her own room?
But it wasn't just stereo equipment that brought out the nostalgia.  As we emptied closets and disassembled toys, memories flooded back while new ones were made.  Here's Mimi buzzing around the house with an old cap of my Grandfather's that my Grandmother gave me.  It's not Russian.  The emblem is, I believe, for the society of engineers.
Taking apart Mimi's play house was also an event.  We purchased it for her last Christmas and it has consistently been one of her favorite toys over the past 6 months.  She plays with it at least once a day.  As Mimi helped me disassemble it, she kept trying to open the windows, ring the doorbell, or turn on the porch light.  She quickly found that it was dead (just for the time being, Mimi).  But she didn't just turn away once she realized something was wrong.  She kept with it, almost like she was attempting to resuscitate the little house.  Mimi's still young, but I think today I saw a little empathy in her.  I think she actually may have felt sad for her little house.
Mimi was, however, pleasantly surprised by the rediscovery of her Halloween costume (it still fits) as well as the fun new play space created when we pulled out the sub woofer from the entertainment center.  Hmm, maybe we'll have to keep that one open for her once we get to SF.

The day had been a long, but productive one.  To finish, we met up with the renal fellows from Sumie's nephrology program for a great little farewell dinner.  Fajitas and margaritas were served.  And consumed.  We then trekked over to the park near our house, the time already pushing 8:30, and gave Mimi a few pushes on the swings.  It turned out Mama wanted a go as well.
I can't say that I'm looking forward to finishing up our packing - let alone the unpacking once we finally find a place in SF - but I have enjoyed taking a few trips back in time with Sumie these past several days.  I can't wait until Mimi's a bit older and we can share them with her.

Steve

Saturday, July 16, 2011

How Many for Dinner? 2.5, Please.

Faced with a mountain of boxes - some packed, some empty, many yet to be assembled - Sumie and I decided it was time to make a small escape and brave a dinner out with Mimi.  After about an hour at the park, we headed over the "Hi-Life," a great little 1930s themed restaurant-bar with burgers, beer, thai curry and sushi.  Yes, I thought it was a bit of an odd combination at first tool, but it works. 

Mimi, as we've discussed before, is not always the best dinner companion, so when we eat out we enter each restaurant with a mixture of hope and trepidation.  She can literally make or break a meal. 

About 6 weeks or so after Mimi was born, my mother came out to visit and we decided to risk a dinner out with Mimi.  It would be our first.  We settled on a little place called Ciao Bella on the Upper East Side, which is where we had held Sumie's baby shower a few months earlier.  We took an outside table and, figuring that Mimi would soon sleep as it was her normal nap time, we placed our order.  By the time the first course had arrived Mimi had decided to check out.  She may have only been six weeks old, but she already had the lung capacity and projection of an Olympic swimmer who moonlit by performing opera at the Met.  For the next forty minutes my mom, Sumie, and I rotated getting up from the table and walking Mimi up and down the block.  We were all beyond frazzled by the end of the evening - even the wait staff.   Incidentally, a few weeks after our dinner we discovered that the restaurant had gone out of business.  Some say it was a result of the second avenue subway construction, but I wonder...

It was several months until we tried again.  Mimi got a little better with each outing: she learned how to distract herself and we learned how to manage a little one a bit better during a night out.  Here are a few tips we've learned:
  1. Go right after a nap!:  This is the big one.  We gave up on the idea of Mimi sleeping through a meal very quickly.  The "after nap" strategy generally means that you'll be eating out much earlier than you might like, but at least the baby will be in a better mood and you might even get to enjoy some early bird specials.  
  2. Bring a range of foods and drinks:  Before Mimi could start eating off our plates we'd bring milk, juice, crackers, and cookies.  There was always something that would get her attention, if only for a minute or two.  
  3. Bring a toy:  Just make sure that it's something the baby often plays with, that it's soft (or it will make a great deal of noise when banged against the table, which it invariably will be), and that it's portable.  
  4. Sit outside:  There's generally far more to see when you sit outside, which helps to keep baby content.  Baby's voice won't carry nearly as bad when you're outside as well.  
  5. Clear the table in front of baby:  Some may think this is a bad idea, as the kids like to play with the silverware, etc. in front of them, but restaurant tables are always set with items that are loud, breakable, or both.  
We still have a lot to learn as Mimi gets older.  I'm worried for when she starts walking around and feeling that need to pester other diners and trip waiters.  Still, it has been getting easier with each development step Mimi takes.  Being able to eat from our plates was perhaps the biggest step forward.  Now we can actually eat as a family.  And it's amazing what this little girl will like.  Here's a look at how tonight went. 

We were able to get a table right next to the open windows.  Not outside, but close enough.  We eventually set her up right next to the window to take full advantage of the pedestrians, dogs, cars, and buses that would provide welcome distraction for Mimi.  
As you can see from the photo above, we're kind of following our rules.  No silverware, napkins, shakers, or candles within reach.  Just a kids' menu and Thomas.  But even this can cause troubles.  Within a minute or two, the menu was lying on the floor covered in saliva, half the crayon had entered Mimi's digestive tract, and Thomas had been flung under our neighbors' table.  We needed a new strategy. 
Here's a much cleaner table, with only Thomas in reach (he had been retrieved).  Mimi looks calm, but she's really just plotting her next move.  And here it is.  Attack Papa!
Once the food came things got much better.  As I mentioned before, eating out with a little one really does become much more enjoyable once you can share.  It turned out that Mimi absolutely loved our appetizer: fried calamari.  Being a good restaurant the rings were actually tender.  We cut a few up into tiny pieces and Mimi devoured them.  I love it when she takes to something unexpectedly - especially if it's something I like! 
Mimi filled up quickly on calamari, fries, sushi rice, avocado (from the California rolls), and crab (also from the California rolls).  She eventually turned her attention back to the pedestrians.  Each person who passed got a wave.  A few lucky passersby were even offered crab (though they would've had to eat it off her fingers). 
Eating out is definitely getting easier.  And this is a wonderful thing because eating in, without doubt, is getting exponentially more difficult.  When it comes time to cook at home not only is there a baby underfoot, that baby is either demanding to help with the cooking or aggressively rearranging our entire Tupperware collection on the kitchen floor.  At what age do kids start cooking for their parents?  Is two too early? 

Steve