Haiku

For whatever reason, the haiku form has been passed around lately....

11/28/2011 @ the morning meeting

Concentricity
Too big a word for Monday
Delivery sucks

11/16/2011 @ an evening skate

Goddamn private eyes
Why would they be watching me?
Fucking Hall and Oates

11/17/2011 @ another evening skate

Hockey night haiku
Composed in twenty minutes
I love this game so

Yeti is haiku
Artistic five seven five
Beauty words and bikes

601(e.2)

I am struggling with this one. I am sitting in front of a computer screen, far too late at night, trying to transcribe thoughts to words.

I was called many names growing up in Central Maine. It was, unfortunately, inevitable as I was one of a handful of Asians who lived in the area. And really, the other two I knew were my brothers. So racial slurs are nothing new to me. And I've been called every name under the sun as the kids I grew up with in grade school tried to find a label that would get my attention. They ran through a litany of Asian epithets as they tried to determine if I was Chinese, Japanese, Vietnamese.... Then they started in on the color of my skin: black, yellow, brown, red.... They tried to determine if my eyes were slanted up or down.

However, once I put the skates on at 5, things changed. Names on the playground persisted but in the rink, we were all equal. In 30 years of playing, coaching and officiating hockey, I have never once heard one player turn to an opponent and reference their cultural background. I never had a player come after me with a racial epithet. I have been told it happened and addressed as an official with players and coaches but I have never dealt with it first hand.

Until tonight.

Thursday nights are usually cake walks. We have this one league pretty well trained and all we do is drop the puck, call icings, offside and goals, and joke around with the players. Occasionally we may have to put our hand in the air for a hook or hold. And, of course, there have been less than a handful of fights over the years. But generally, we do not have to deal with aggressive penalties.

Tonight, that all changed. Tonight, I wanted to take the referee sweater off and go after a player. Tonight, we had a Bertuzzi-esque fight that ended with a third player entering into the fray and calling the instigator of the fight the "n" word.

It angers me that racism still exists. I know in my heart that racism will never die. But I continue to have hope that someday we will be able to quell it.

We learn so many lessons on the ice. I hate to think the lesson this guy will eventually learn because the hockey gods frown on this behavior and karma will, ultimately, come back to haunt him. For all I know, he may never play in this league again and I would never, ever feel badly about that.

I am lucky since, as the official, I have a rulebook that I can throw at a player in an instance like this. I can and did bounce a player from the game in this situation. But as a player at heart, I wanted to put the whistle away and go after him. Logic and common sense tempered my anger tonight. Yet still I am crestfallen that my children will still have to confront racism and intolerance at some point in their lives.

There is still a long road in front of us. Tolerance, on so many different levels, has still not fully taken hold. But as long as we continue down this path to creating a better home and a better world, perhaps be will some day reach that distant vanishing point.

Oh Gibson

I've always wanted, oh how I've wanted, a guitar from the namesake company of our dog, Gibson. It has always been one of those things I have kept on my internal bucket list. Until this morning.

I followed a link to this article about how Gibson, the guitar company, has been pulling strings on the right wing side to allow it to continue to import outlawed wood. If you read deep enough into the article body, and you really should...there are four separate pages, you will see that Martin and Taylor have not only followed the letter of the law, they also support the ideal of the law as well.

I'm disappointed. I don't love my boy any less. But the fact that his namesake continues to flagrantly disregard a law that is trying not only to protect our world's environment but also support American jobs in the logging industry. I know my money will not be going to the Gibson guitar company.

Old memories

A friend and co-worker managed to sell his VW Rabbit and buy an older, 80's Toyota pickup. While I won't get started on all the old Rabbit memories I have (I don't know if this blog is large enough to contain them), I will say that the moment I say his "new" Toyota, I had a blast of memories from high school and college.

My best friend drove a Toyota pickup of the same vintage. He did his best to destroy it...ultimately rolling it on three separate occasions. Luckily, I was never around for those inverted negative g dives in his truck. I was too busy saying hello to...never mind, poor joke.

Nonetheless...memories. All the early morning, snowstorm trips to Sugarloaf. Driving to Giffords, across town to McDonald's repeatedly on Saturday nights. Leaving the vehicle's body parts behind in some farmer's field out near the firing range. All the high school stupidity we managed to live through.

And now...I'm a dad. And I will have to let my children live through those experiences.

I know my old and trusted friend will likely not appreciate these following clips considering some of the poor humor these chaps have displayed in the past...but it's well worth sharing this. And it's well worth your time to watch all three clips, even if it takes a full half hour, it's worth watching this through to the end.

The DMV

Oh...the DMV.

You never know quite what to expect when at the DMV. All sorts of different people there. Renewing their license. Reinstating. Testing.

You can, however, always expect them to be slower than slow. But this is an aside.

I would never have been surprised to hear that a fight broke out in line while people waited in line. You know how it is, people get impatient, you find that guy who was tailgating you three months ago, two rival motorcycle gangs are getting their licenses reinstated after that last trip to Sturgis (you know how the Dentists and the real Doctors don't get along).

So, you may now be wondering if a fight broke out whilst I stood in line at the DMV.

It did.

But not how you expect.

Two people began screaming at each other. Another guy had to break it up. I think it almost nearly came to blows. Or at least, I think she almost threw a stapler at him.

So yeah. A fight. Behind the counter. Two employees.

Freaking hilarious.

Lesson Plan 8 - Listen to the World, Listen to Your Heart

Emiko and Winslow, this morning, I was getting ready to put on my gear, climb on Uncle Sam's motorcycle and drive to work. As I pulled my boots on, Emi looked at me and said, "Daddy, take those off and put your flipflops on. Don't take your motorcycle, drive your car."

I paused and was about to ignore her advice. But Emi had awakened a small voice inside.

"Listen to your heart. It knows all things, because it came from the Soul of the World, and it will one day return there."

I ride the motorcycle to save a little money on gas. I ride it also because it is fun. But it scares me. A lot. I am so exposed, such a novice and all too aware of the potential dangers should I get clipped or lay it down.

Back when I used to ski every weekend, I used to listen to the signs in my heart. If I forgot a vital piece of equipment, I'd assume I wasn't meant to ski that day. When my heart told me I was done, I got off the mountain. I tried to make sure I didn't tempt fate.

Emiko, I took your comment this morning as a warning for the day. I make a solemn promise to you and Winlsow that I will continue to listen to my heart. I will heed the warnings and I will revel in the joy that you two bring to our lives.

All my love.

Dad

If I Should Fall Behind

Whenever I hear this song, I think of just how much I love my wife.

XKCD

from here: http://xkcd.com/931/

Sleep deprivation

First chance I have had to go to the bathroom all day long came at 4:00 PM.

I found my daughter does a better job dressing herself in the morning....

My skivvies are on backwards.

To my discredit, I dressed myself in the darkness this morning so as to not wake Hope and Winslow.

Yup.

Lucas 3 position switch....

ELECTRICAL THEORY BY JOSEPH LUCAS

Positive ground depends on proper circuit functioning, which is the transmission of negative ions by retention of the visible spectral manifestation known as “smoke”. Smoke is the thing that makes electrical circuits work. We know this to be true because every time one lets the smoke out of an electrical circuit, it stops working. This can be verified repeatedly through empirical testing.

For example, if one places a copper bar across the terminals of a battery, prodigious quantities of smoke are liberated and the battery shortly ceases to function. In addition, if one observes smoke escaping from an electrical component such as a Lucas voltage regulator, it will also be observed that the component no longer functions. The logic is elementary and inescapable!

The function of the wiring harness is to conduct the smoke from one device to another. When the wiring springs a leak and lets all the smoke out of the system, nothing works afterward. Starter motors were considered unsuitable for British motorcycles for some time largely because they consumed large quantities of smoke, requiring very unsightly large wires.

It has been reported that Lucas electrical components are possibly more prone to electrical leakage than their Bosch, Japanese or American counterparts. Experts point out that this is because Lucas is British, and all things British leak. British engines leak oil, British shock absorbers, hydraulic forks and disk brake systems leak fluid, British tires leak air and British Intelligence leaks national defense secrets. Therefore, it follows that British electrical systems must leak smoke. Once again, the logic is clear and inescapable.

In conclusion, the basic concept of transmission of electrical energy in the form of smoke provides a logical explanation of the mysteries of electrical components especially British units manufactured by Joseph Lucas, Ltd.

And remember: “A gentleman does not motor about after dark.”


Joseph Lucas “The Prince of Darkness”
1842-1903

A few Lucas quips:

The Lucas motto: “Get home before dark.”
Lucas is the patent holder for the short circuit.
Lucas - Inventor of the first intermittent wiper.
Lucas - Inventor of the self-dimming headlamp.
The three-position Lucas switch--DIM, FLICKER and OFF. The Original Anti-Theft Device - Lucas Electrics. Back in the ‘70s, Lucas decided to diversify its product line and began manufacturing vacuum cleaners. It was the only product they offered which did not suck.
Q: Why do the British drink warm beer? A: Because Lucas makes their refrigerators.
This has been referred to as the smoke theory - when the smoke comes out its finished, cooked or done for.

(Stolen from here)

Gravel

These past two days have had their own running soundtrack. Just one song stuck on repeat in my head every time I start up the moto.

I hear the sound of your bike

As the wheels hit the gravel

Then the engine in the driveway cutting off

And I pushed through the screen door

And stood out on the porch

Thinking fight fight fight at all costs.

But instead I let you in 

Just like I've always done

And sat you down and offered you a beer.

And across the kitchen table

I fired several rounds

But you were still sitting there when the smoke cleared.

And you came crawling back to say

That you want to make good in the end.

And oh oh let me count the ways

I abhor you.

Not the best of ideas, I suppose. My Mom and Dad hate it. My father mentioned that we got in a big screaming match when I told him I was going to get a motorcycle. When I was four. It only took 31 years. My wife disapproves but hasn't said much other than not to get dead. At the same time, using the moto to commute a bit here and there will save a ton on gas costs.

All I need is my leather

One t-shirt and two socks.

I'll keep my hands warm in your pockets

And we can use the engine block.

We'll ride out to California

With my arms around your chest

And I'll pretend this is real

'Cause this is what I like best.

And you've been juggling two women

Like a stupid circus clown,

Telling us both we are the one.

And maybe you can keep me

From ever being happy

But you're not going to stop me from having fun.

So let's go before I change my mind

I'll leave the luggage of all your lies behind

'Cause I am bigger than everything thing that came before.

And you were never very kind

And you let me way down every time

But oh oh what can I say

I adore you.

Mind you, this is not my moto. My brother in law bought it from a buddy of mine and then Sam promptly took off, leaving the moto in our garage. Honda 1975 400 Super Sport. And boy-oh-boy is it lots of fun.

I promise to be careful, I really do. The moment I am no longer scared out of my mind, the moment I start thinking that car sees me, I'm putting it away.

Thanks to Ani Difranco for the running soundtrack as of late!

Conversations

This is the way conversations typically go in my car.

Welcome Winslow Asano Mukai

We are so excited to introduce this new child into our lives.

Winslow Asano Mukai was born June 12, 2011 at 9:18 AM. What a wonderful way to meet this little guy and Hope lucked out with a very short labor before Winn was born.

Little Winslow, you need to know your name carries great meaning. You get to carry on my wife's family name. And just as you carry her name forward into the next generation, you are resurrecting another family name as well. Your great-great-great grandfather was an Asano in Japan. He was adopted by the Mukai family to carry their name on since your adoptive family had no male heirs. 

Thank you for joining us here, we already love you so much!

Flogging Daddy

Yesterday, I successfully avoided starting my car (no, I didn't drive the Rover and didn't drive wifey's car instead). Well, ok, this isn't entirely true, I did start my car to pull it back into the garage when the day was through.

Anyway, this isn't about not using dead dinosaurs. Because I did run my gas grill for about 2 hours making a beer can chicken.

Not about gasoline...not about gasoline.

Yesterday, Hope began making plans for lunch and supper in the morning. I took one look at her pregger belly and said, "why don't I handle getting/prepping/cooking food."

Emiko immediately took to this as it was a chance for her to head to the store with me. The two of us agreed that we would take our bicycle and trailer to our local grocery store.

The ride down was easy. Shopping left me very nervous as I had left a very rare titanium Yeti ARC locked in the parking lot for all to see. Not to mention the trailer....

But this story is about the ride home. Emi was quite content in her trailer as we left the store with a chunk of Babybel cheese in her hand. She was a talking up a storm as we climbed the first hill on the way home.

As we crossed Easley, she asked me to sing her the same song we sing when we turn onto 60th in our car.

"We're almost to Emi's house
We're almost to Emi's house
We're almost to Emi's house
We're almost there.

We're almost to Emi's house
We're almost to Emi's house
We're almost to Emi's house
We're almost there."

And then she will tell me which names to substitute in. Daddy. Mommy. Gibson. Jeffy. Baby Bear. Etc etc etc.

So I sang to her. In between each line, I'd take a breath and try to willfully slow my heart beat.

And then.

Emi began to yell, "faster faster faster" from her trailer. Right as I got passed by some schmo on a full suspension Trek. Who proceeded to blow up about 50 yards out in front of me. He must have heard me singing to Emi and decided, "I'll put the hammer down and pass this goofy Dad/daughter." But he couldn't hold the speed and I upped my output while still singing to Emi. I was still closing the gap when I turned into my neighbourhood.

When we got home, Hope looked at me and asked why I was so worked.

I replied, "no reason..." and collapsed on the couch.

My Brother-in-Law Kicks Ass

No really. He does!

Special Forces NCO of the Year. Thank kind of kicks ass.

Read this.
And know that he mowed our lawn this weekend. SpecOps Lawn Service. He mows with tactical precision.

Did I mention he kicks ass?

Connections

Business and pleasure.

Coworkers and friends.

Life.

It all becomes intertwined. The line of business associate and friend gets blurred over time. People I talk to on the phone are not strangers or disembodied voices, we talk bikes, we share stories about our families and we discuss life in general.

These connections, no matter how tenuous, become so important and so routine. On Tuesdays, I call Bob every morning. I generally expect to see Fred a couple times a week in our front office.

There are two stories today...

...

My morning to call to my best shop in New Hampshire and possibly our best shop on the east coast resulted in me listening to a broadcast message about a family emergency. When I got through to the owner, I found out he had lost his brother.

I was at a loss for words. So I tried to get him to talk about his brother, what he did, where he grew up. Simple math puts his brother in his mid-40's. The death was unexpected. But we shared a few chuckles and did our best to forget about work for those few moments.

My heart is with you, my friend. And I reflect a bit on the fact that as I continue to grow older, it will ultimately be my friends and family I will have to say goodbye to.

"Don't stop this train..."

...

I was reminded that there was a brief moment in time when I thought about joining the military. I had just read this article about the son of the buyer at our best US dealer. His father did not sleep for days after reading the story.

As graduation from college grew close, I didn't know what I was going to do with my life and I was looking for career opportunities. I was interested in EMT and Paramedic fields but was worried they would get boring over time. As I continued to look for potential jobs, I considered the military and found a group in the Air Force whose motto was, "That others may live." That drew me in and as I began to see the training they went through, I thought if there was one part of the military branch I could go into, that would be it.

Seems like a long time ago....

One way to reduce my blood pressure

I've been told I need to bring my blood pressure down, that it is at the high end of the healthy level. Diet, exercise, hydration and stress were all potential contributors.

I may just do this:

In Memoriam of Carla Madison

We meet friends in the most random of places, don't we?

We have known Paul for years, he has worked at the Pepsi Center for as long as I have been attending hockey games. Through the seasons, we developed a friendship that meant we first looked for Paul when we arrived at games, rather than looking at the team. We always enjoyed catching up, sharing stories and learning a little more about each other every game. When I found out he would take month long bicycle tours, I offered him a deal on gear from Pearl Izumi.

A few years ago, Paul's wife Carla began to campaign for a position on the city council. Paul acted as her campaign manager and showed me the flyers he was putting together for her. And that's when I learned Carla was a hot air balloonist, had fought forest fires in Yellowstone and Colorado, and was a physical therapist. And she was voted into the city council and was running unopposed this year for her first re-election bid. What a wonderful woman.

I regret now not having had the opportunity to have met Carla. She fought valiantly against her cancer for quite some time. And never once did Paul ever seem down or upset, he just seemed to take it all in stride. She was still serving on the council, he just kept on plugging away.

Upon their return from Europe, they ran into this. And last night I heard the news that Carla had passed away.

Paul, you were blessed to have shared so much of your life with Carla. And we are grateful that she let you out of the house to come see us at the hockey games. Our thoughts are with you now in your time of mourning and in your celebration of Carla's life.

Carla, I'm sorry we didn't meet. I heard so many wonderful stories.

Godspeed.

Welcome

Welcome to the world, Jasper Mark Vincent. We cannot wait to meet you, hold you and hear all of your stories!

Nuclear Energy

My current favorite cartoonist published this on his blog recently. His subsequent chart is useful for understanding our current situation and the news that is continually generated.

Sobering Moments

Life has its sobering moments. I was having what I thought was an awful day, I was spiraling, I was trying to keep my spirits up and failing and then I received an email from a friend. After a long battle with cancer, my friend just found out that his wife's liver is failing her. Suddenly, the little things I was struggling with became so meaningless.

They have just recently returned from a cruise in the Mediterranean where they visited Venice and got to experience Carnival. I spent time shirking work and paging through their photos online.

And so I sit here thinking of the two of them, the time he is taking to spend with her and I try to hope for the best outcome.

My thoughts and love are with them right now, I just wish there was more I could do.

Rubbernecking

Dad always told me to ignore what was going on at the side of the road...don't stare at the accident lest you cause another.

Typically, I avoid viewing disasters. I maintain focus, watch the other cars around me and move on.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

I used to drive up Lookout Mountain every now and then. Usually when I needed to go seek clarity, I'd find a spot overlooking Golden and Denver and spend some time simply clearing my mind.

Around 10:30 tonight, I decided to climb into the old truck and go for a quiet drive. I saw all the traffic going up and down Lookout Mountain and somehow was drawn in. I made the turn up the hill and followed it all the way to the top...I'd never completed the drive to the top and I certainly don't think I have ever driven up in the Rover.

I found a safe spot to pull off and watch the fire burning across the canyon. From where I stood, I could clearly see multiple patches of fire and a distinct fire line. It was pretty awe inspiring. I contemplated how much fear and uncertainty must be going through the minds of many families whose homes are so close to the fire.

And then it struck me. This fire, it is nothing. Sure, tragedy may occur if some lives are lost, when some houses are lost and belongings consumed by the flames. But it is nothing...nothing compared to what is happening in Japan right now. Families here in Golden will have the opportunity to evacuate, to know why this has happened and they will find a way to cope.

In Japan, an enormous earthquake and tsunami have killed 8,000 people. 12,000 people are still unaccounted for. And this is saying nothing in regards to fallout from the nuclear disaster that is still playing out at Fukushima.

Perspective: there are 18,000 people living in Golden.

We should count ourselves blessed that we have the opportunity for a warning here at home.

In Memoriam of Talisker

I write today with a heavy heart. I wanted to write yesterday but could not find the words. I received a message from one of my best friends that their boy Talisker had passed on.

Talisker was a Greater Swiss Mountain Dog...all 140 pounds of him. And loud and proud.

There is something special about our first dog. They are, for some of us, our training wheels; a test to see if we are ready for the greatest responsibility...bringing children into our world. They also teach the ultimate lesson for our children, a lesson of death.

Talisker was their first. He was wonderful, he was loud and he was family. Hope and I even looked after him when he was just a young pup. He played and romped with Gibson after he finished letting Gibs know who ruled the house.

His registered AKC name was Rock the Casbah. Every time I hear that Clash song, I have always thought of Talisker. The last time I heard the song was my most recent trip to Rapid City while I was sitting in the ref room for a Rush game. For that brief moment, I was thinking of Talisker.

Here's to you T, we all love you, we all already miss you. Make sure you let everyone know who is in charge of the wonderful puppy play land you now reside in.

Isaac and Ishmael

I sat and watched one of my favorite episodes of West Wing this evening: "Two Cathedrals." That is the conclusion of the second season and closes out with one of my favorite Dire Straits songs, "Brothers in Arms." It never fails to bring tears.

I went to pop in the first disc of season 3 and was solemnly reminded that the premier of the third season was delayed. I had forgotten that "Isaac and Ishmael" even existed. An ode to tolerance, racial, religious and otherwise; a request for support for those who responded in our time of need. And it had come at a time when it was desperately needed, airing on October 3, 2001.

This is an episode that should be played in every classroom across America. It should be rerun on TV to serve as a reminder. It should be used to educate. It should be used to stimulate conversations and encourage thoughts.

Let us never forget. Let us learn. Let us teach.

Confusion

One cryptic email is followed up with an email from another source regarding a friend and co-worker in my hockey world.

My friend, a member of the USPS, was pinned against his mail jeep by a car that swerved into him. Multiple broken bones, severed arteries in his legs and currently in intensive care.

And that is all I know.

I feel helpless when I think about how quickly our life can change.

A long way from our friend

There are times when a voice over the phone line does not comfort well enough. The promise of a hug does not carry with it the consolation of the actual. And the thought that you would drop anything to be with your friend in a time of need, while it works perfectly in theory, is not easily accomplished.

All I can do is say that we love you dearly. We miss you. And we wish we were right there to help in whatever way help is needed.

Fred Korematsu

This was a message from Brandon this morning. I had never heard of Fred Korematsu before yesterday...which I hate to admit considering my heritage. But I learned of him when this link came across my desk. It started an email conversation with Brandon.

For those of you who do not know Brandon, he and I grew up in Central Maine together, best of friends from middle school on and even attended Middlebury together. He decided to return to Maine after graduation and was a teacher for many years. He is now the Schools and Curriculum Coordinator for the Maine Civil Rights Team Project. He is tasked by the Office of Maine's Attorney General to increase the safety for all Maine students by addressing prejudice and bias-based harassment at the school level...K-12.

Our world needs more Brandons....

Brandon and I got into a discussion about Fred Korematsu, Japanese internment (US and Canada), WWII and the implications that our American history has on the current environment we live in. Primarily, the general misconceptions we now have of the Muslim faith.

His message:


Thought I'd share...

I do a monthly newsletter. I needed a topic for my introductory column. I had a few ideas, but after exchanging e-mails on Fred Korematsu, I thought that he's be a good inspiration. Not enough people know about him.



He was one of millions. He was an American. He attended public schools. He played sports. He had a part-time job. He graduated. He got a full-time job. He was living the American Dream. He believed in his country.

Then he became one of thousands. He was Japanese. He was the enemy. He was not to be trusted. He was to be watched carefully. He was not allowed outside of Military Area No. 1. He was to be detained, interned, feared.

Then he became one. He would not submit. He would resist. He would cry injustice. He would fight. And he still believed in his country.

He was Fred Korematsu, a Japanese-American in California who resisted Franklin D. Roosevelt’s Executive Order #9066 that allowed for Japanese internment during World War II. Korematsu fought his case all the way to the Supreme Court in 1944, who decided that the government’s actions, while extreme, were justified in times of emergency.

It took this country many, many years to admit that it was wrong. In 1983, a U.S. District Court judge formally vacated Korematsu’s sentence. He stood in front of that judge and said “I would like to see the government admit that they were wrong and do something about it so that this will never happen again to any American citizen of any race, creed, or color.” He devoted the rest of his life to that cause.

After the attacks of 9/11, Korematsu warned the U.S. government not to repeat the same mistakes of World War II. He was a vocal and visible advocate for civil rights and civil liberties until his death in 2005.

On January 30, California celebrated and observed the first-ever official Fred Korematsu Day of Civil Liberties and the Constitution. It’s a shining example of the greatness of America. In recognizing our past and presence failures, we offer hope for the future. This country and its constitution failed Fred Korematsu. His civil rights and civil liberties were violated. His faith in America, his identity as an American, and his life were shaken.

But Fred Korematsu believed in something. He believed in it even when he had no obvious reason to continue believing. Eventually there were apologies, pardons, compensation, honors, and ultimately recognition, but in the moment, there was only Fred Korematsu and his belief that he was right. Amidst his struggles, that must have offered some solace, knowing that eventually, what is right will inevitably gain acceptance. It takes hard work and struggle, but ultimately, for someone, it’s worth it.

“[D]on’t be afraid to speak up. One person can make a difference,
even if it takes forty years.”

-Fred Korematsu, 2005

For more information on Fred Korematsu and his amazing life, go to:

http://korematsuinstitute.org/