See the Resemblance

So remember that 1956 yearbook picture of me?




Here's my Dad with his sisters and niece. This picture was taken after he and his family relocated to Seabrook, NJ after the war. There was a photographer who was cataloging the events of World War II and the treatment of the Japanese Americans after being placed in internment camps. He took pictures of my Dad's family and their "together" time.



So notice the resemblance? Oh, and an interesting fact about this photo. My Dad could not play the piano. This picture was totally staged. Nice to catalog accurate, historical events, right? =)

What Would You Tell Your Kid?

Today was beautiful. Perfect in fact. There are few days that compare to blue sky, sunshine, clear air, and high pressure. And the back is all better. I still don't go full at the ball, but that is also a good thing. But this post is not about my golfing, not about my back, not about the perfect day. It's about something that happened at the driving range when I was enjoying this day.

The place where I hit balls has a go kart track and miniature golf course. Where I practice sits in front of the path leading to the go kart track. Lots of times, families walk by and I overhear them as they go to the karts. Today, I overheard a family walking to the track and one of their sons thought it was great fun to make ethnic remarks at the Asian guy hitting golf balls. Yeah, me. So I heard things I've become somewhat, mind you only somewhat, accustomed to growing up: "Aaaa-soooo, ching-chong, chink, chung, wok-socky, chop-chop, hitty ball..." I think the thing that bothered me more than what the kid said was his parents reaction. Absolutely nothing. They did not bat an eye or say a word. The kid said this stuff all the way to the go kart track and after they were done, he said the same crap going past me. So this behavior was acceptable and normal for them I guess.

Now growing up, my parents helped us deal with all of that stuff as well. They learned from their parents all about the way people judge you on your looks more than what's in your heart. They probably had it worse because they lived through World War II and the Japanese internment camps. They taught my brothers and me to ignore ignorance and to transcend others by our actions and accomplishments. I have to admit what they instilled in us works well most of the time, but still after all this time, there are times I do not feel like being the silent American.

In time if Sharkey and I are blessed with a child, I will pass on the same things my parents taught me. The content of one's character matters more than their physical appearance. There will always be ignorance, but you will need to be better and take the higher road. And while you may encounter such individuals, there are more good people in this world who do what is right and have honor in their hearts.

So my question to you is what would you tell your kid?

Dad, That You?

Sharkey told me to try this site tonight. So I went there and uploaded a photo. I scrolled through the pictures and 1956 really caught my eye. Here's what I "look" like in 1956:



The crazy thing is, I totally look like my DAD!!!

Now if I could just (sigh...) be that thin again. =)

Lost, But Intact

Thursday the back was about 80% good from when I injured it on Tuesday, but I didn't want to forfeit to the jerkstore, so I downed 4 Advil and went out to go at it. In short I lost, but the loss wasn't until the last hole. The final score was 5-4. So even at 80% we were tied going into the last hole, and I was able to make some decent shots to tie the match on the 8th and go into the 9th feeling pretty good. Most importantly, I didn't make my back injury any worse by playing. So it wasn't the outcome I wanted, but at least I gave it my all and did not get crippled in the process. In my book, it's a win!

Karma Is A Bitch

I am invincible. I can do anything. I am stronger than I've ever been. I am smarter now and can think my way out of any problem.

These are the statements of youth. I have said recently to people that you're as young as you think you are. I have always thought that. Until today. See I have a playoff match on Thursday. It is against one of the most obnoxious men ever. When we last met, I stuffed him. It was one of my finest moments. 9th hole, 6 foot putt to win the match and I hole it out. All he could do was watch. I loved it. But that was 3 weeks ago. That was then. This is now.

I had a bad day. I had a series of things go wrong. I walked out of work 1 1/2 hours late. I was wound tight. I went to the driving range to practice and let off some steam. On my 5 ball out of 75, hitting my approach wedge, my back did something funny. After this "funny" thing happened, I couldn't move too well without pain. Right now I'm sitting, chewing Advil like Tic Tac's and thinking about how I got to this state.

I have a match Thursday. I'm definitely questionable. I am vulnerable. I may not be able to play. I feel quite weak. I'm thinking how stupid it was to get myself into this spot. What did I do to invoke such bad karma?

These are the statements of a middle aged man (sigh...).

This Grinds My Gears...

I have seen a phenomenon lately that is quite disturbing. I am not sure if this unexplained action is widespread across the United States, or if it is just limited to the north east. The frequency I see this weirdness has been increasing to more than a few times a week. What have I witnessed do you ask? Well simply, I have seen people driving these:


Wearing these.....



Call me old fashioned, but my Dad taught me that driving is a full time job and it just seems so wrong to see people with earbuds in while they are driving. I realize that people listen to the radio or stereo loud in the car, but total sound block out just seems like an accident waiting to happen. Is it just me or does anyone else see a problem with this?