Mom is happy

My mom is deliriously happy to be here in Lisbon.

On our way

All good. Waiting for our flight to Philly.

visiting Modern Family

Thanks to my friend Eric Stonestreet, I visited a Modern Family location shoot yesterday.  Here are just a few pictures.   I thought it was very nice of Eric and co-stars to pose for photos with me.  These people are geniunely nice, and yes, I was paid to write that, but it's still true. 

Here's Eric, looking dapper. 

Modern Family's kitchen includes a seemingly endless supply of Ricola cough drops.

Here's Reid Ewing, who plays Dylan. We were heading in two different directions, but still, he stopped and posed for this picture, which enraged me. 

Here's Eric's other half on the show, Jesse Tyler Ferguson, who is simply hilarious as Mitchell, and often insists on photos that feature antenna.  For the record, Eric is also hilarious as Cam.  Seriously, Stonestreet. 

This is not the chair I sat in, but I did sit in one like this.  This one is reserved for heads of state, such as Vladimir Putin.

Since the shoot was inside a tiny restaurant, I was able to watch a live rehearsal, but then retreated to a shaded video coccoon where I was able to see this multi-camera view and listen remotely to the scene using at headset at any volume I desired.   It was very cool to just be a fly on the wall next to Executive Producer Steve Levitan and writer Jeff Richmond  (until someone swatted me.*)  But even that was done very nicely.  
(*It was the assistant in charge of the Ricola - apparently it is a finite supply).

And of course it was a thrill to meet Nathan Lane, and to watch him work.  These guys make wearing lavender look easy. 

I also met star of the show Ed O'Neill and he was very kind to pose for a photo too, but for some reason the shot didn't come out (but I'm not blaming anyone, okay).  I just look forward to a future opportunity to visit the set of Modern Family.   

Her shoes

It was her shoes that caught my attention.

I was sitting in my car at a red light, and as she worked her way across the street, I noticed her shoes didn't match.  Her left shoe was a pale tennis-sneaker.  The back was folded under her heel.  She walked unevenly. Her other shoe was a black boot, low, but still significantly taller than her tennis shoe.  She was an older woman, and her clothing was a mish-mash of black and cranberry colored garments draped upon her.  Her gray hair was matted beneath a construction hardhat, and her belongings slung over her shoulder in a black trash bag.

That's when I started to weep.

She is a person.  One without a pair of shoes to her name. Wearing a helmet.  Going somewhere.   How can we let this happen?  I don't know if she is someone's mother, but she herself was someone's daughter.

I wondered for a moment if there was something I could do for her, but honestly, I didn't know.  I knew we were close to the Union Station homeless shelter, and that gave me a little hope.  But I also couldn't help thinking about how we are systematically destroying the safety net in our country while simultaneously rewarding the ultra-rich with additional tax breaks.   I have no idea what led to this woman's situation, but it saddens me that anyone could become a wandering homeless person - especially in the midst of the wealth that surrounds us.

You may say that I'm bleeding heart liberal, (and I am), but I also know that this poor helmet-wearing woman is not alone.  Approximately 1200 people are homeless on any given night where I live in  Pasadena California.  Some are children.  She is literally the tip of the iceberg.  And we know for a fact that the gap between the ultra rich and the rest of us is growing.  And somehow we think that rewarding these ultra rich people at the expense of everyone else makes sense.

Well it doesn't make sense.  It doesn't make sense from an economic sense and it doesn't make sense from a human sense.  Real people are getting crushed by these policies, and honestly, it's only going to get worse for the next two years with Republicans controlling the House of Representives.  They want to chip away the meager level of protections that still remain, still bitter about the passage of the New Deal legislation despite the pronounced period of prosperity those policies created.

It makes me nostalgic about one of the great symbols of America, the Statue of Liberty and Emma Lazarus' wonderful poem "The New Colossus", engraved on the statue.  We should not lose sight of this vision nor the huddled masses that are near and need our help.

"THE NEW COLOSSUS"

Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame, With conquering limbs astride from land to land; Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame. "Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!" cries she With silent lips. "Give me your tired, your poor, Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, The wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me, I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"

Source: Emma Lazarus, The Poems of Emma Lazarus, vol.1 (1889), 2

California Ballot propositions

A few years ago, I got involved with a group of aging dinosaurs in the local area that are very interested in local politics.  (I kid - several of the group members are under 75, and very few require supplemental oxygen!)  The group, known as ACT, has been actively involved in Pasadena area politics for over thirty-five years, and is a non-partisan (but most members are democrats) liberal-leaning group.  We have detractors on the other side of the aisle (and some on this side of the aisle) but I think the group is engaged and informed on the issues.  Additionally, ACT members are very involved in local and regional boards, commissions, foundations and issues.  I have been very fortunate to be a member of this vibrant group, and I have personally learned a great deal about local and statewide politics.  This is what civics class should really be - learning about the issues that effect your community, and actively participating in that community. 

I'm currently co-chair of the ACT Research committee.  We have two main roles on the committee: research and make recommendations on ballot propositions, and interview and make recommendations on candidates for local office.  In September, we met to discuss the upcoming California Ballot propositions.  Members of the committee research the propositions.  Then our committee meets and debates and votes on these propositions.  Then the larger ACT Steering committee considers our recommendations.  

If you want to read the details of the research committee report, you can download (free!) at the ACT website, link below.   For your convenience, here is our summary of ACT's Proposition endorsements for the November election: 

• Prop 19:  YES  (11 - 0 - 7)  LEGALIZES MARIJUANA UNDER CALIFORNIA BUT NOT FEDERAL LAW
• Prop 20:  YES  (18 - 0 - 0)  REDISTRICTING OF CONGRESSIONAL DISTRICTS
• Prop 21:  YES  (16 - 2 - 0)  ESTABLISHES $18 ANNUAL VEHICLE LICENSE SURCHARGE TO HELP FUND STATE PARKS
• Prop 22:  NO  (13 - 1 - 3)   PROHIBITS THE STATE FROM BORROWING OR TAKING FUNDS FROM LOCAL GOV'T
• Prop 23:  NO  (17 - 0 - 0)   SUSPENDS IMPLEMENTATION OF AIR POLLUTION CONTROL LAW 
• Prop 24:  YES  (17 - 0 - 0)  REPEALS RECENT LEGISLATION THAT WOULD ALLOW BUSINESSES TO LOWER THEIR TAX LIABILITY
• Prop 25:  YES  (17 - 0 - 0)  CHANGES LEGISLATIVE VOTE REQUIREMENT TO PASS BUDGET TO A SIMPLE MAJORITY
• Prop 26:  NO  (17 - 0 - 0)   REQUIRES THAT CERTAIN STATE AND LOCAL FEES BE APPROVED BY TWO-THIRDS VOTE
• Prop 27:  NO  (16 - 1 - 0)   ELIMINATES STATE COMMISSION ON REDISTRICTING

http://actpasadena.org/

Playing catch

Over the past weekend, we brought our sons to a sporting goods shop and picked out their first baseball gloves. I remember playing little-league baseball as a boy, and playing catch with my dad was something special.  When my sons were born, one of my very first dad feelings was knowing that someday, I would play catch with my boys.  I can only describe it as something in my DNA, like how those little baby turtles know to scurry into the ocean as soon as they hatch.  When I became a dad, that future moment was hard-wired into me.

Seven years later, that moment was here.

Sure, we had played catch before, with whiffle balls, footballs, and frisbees.  But this was the whole package:  my sons and I in the back yard, playing catch with a baseball, wearing our baseball gloves.

Kazuo, being two years older, was a bit better than Eiji, but they both enjoyed it.  I tried my best to give them good throws, and showed them how to squeeze the glove closed.  It was nice.  Kazuo was smiling so much.  It felt nostalgic, as if watching though sepia colored lenses.  It brought back some nice memories too.

One memory was my very first time signing up for Little League.  I was so eager to play!  But my birthday was 10 days past the September 1st cut-off date.  My dad knew that, but it didn't stop him from bringing me to the American Legion Hall on registration day and trying his best to get me on a team.  He wasn't able to convince them to break the rules for me, and I was very sad.  But to this day I remember fondly that he tried.

I recalled another memory as I tucked my sons into bed that night.  I know that I was a fairly average baseball player - I played a lot of second-base and right-field, if you catch my drift.  But I enjoyed the game, and played until I was in the 8th grade.  That year, my team was actually quite decent, and we made it to the championship game.   I told my sons about that game.  Going into our last at-bat, we were trailing 4-1.  We didn't give up - and in fact, we managed to load the bases.   And in one of those moments that seemed to ooze destiny, it was my turn to bat, with two outs in the last inning, the bases loaded, trailing by 3 runs.  I did the math.  A homerun would win the game.  I remember I was holding a red aluminum bat.  It was the smallest and lightest bat available.   I remember having butterflies in my stomach, and sort of wishing one of the better players was up at bat instead of me.  I remember our coach, Mr. Goudreau, having all the confidence in the world as he sent me to the plate.  "Just try your best", he said.

And I remember hitting the ball farther than I had ever hit the ball in my life.

It soared to the right centerfield fence.

The right fielder ran back, all the way to the fence.  He reached up with his glove.  And he caught the ball.

I explained to my sons that daddy's team lost the game.  But the important thing, I tried to make clear, so many years later, is how I played the game.

A few weeks after that game, at the Little League awards night, Mr. Goudreau gave a nice speech about that game, and my hit, and how time stood still as we all watched that ball fly toward the fence.  And then he gave me that red aluminum bat.  And everybody clapped.  Sometimes I still wonder what would have happened if that ball did go over that fence.  It seems weird, but looking back as a dad, I'm sort of glad it didn't.

Paul Winslow Sawyer 1934-2010

Over this past weekend I attended a moving memorial tribute to my friend and neighbor, Reverend Paul Sawyer.  I had only known him for a half-dozen years, but his life was literally larger-than-life.  At his memorial service, someone referred to him as "our brother from another planet", an attempt to describe his super-powers of compassion and tireless devotion to the causes he championed. I have never met anyone with such a singular focus on helping other people - especially people without a voice, people without hope. 

I wasn't a member of his congregation, but I was lucky enough to have many conversations with him. He'd rap on my door, sometimes at surprising hours, to let me know about an event or a protest of some sort.  Our conversations touched upon community organizing, community-based police with a real citizens oversight board, ending war, the media, freedom, justice, ending the death penalty, education and history.  It seemed as if whenever and wherever I attended a meeting, or a rally, or a fundraiser relating to peace and social justice, Reverend Sawyer was there.  Sometimes he'd come up to me and say "Great to see you - any chance you can give me a ride home?"   It was as if earthly matters, like getting from place to place, was not a worry of his.  He was absorbed in life. 

I remember the first time I tried to enlist him in a cause of mine. His wife Susan escorted me to their back yard, where Paul was engaged in Tai-Chi. I noticed he was wearing an arrest bracelet.  Getting arrested for standing up for justice was a badge of honor for Paul.  I heard that he was arrested over 60 times during his lifetime.  And if there are "Pearly Gates" in Heaven, I wouldn't be surprised if he has chained himself to them. 

His memorial was held at his church, affectionately called "The Onion". The Los Angeles Times, in their story about Reverend Sawyer wrote: 

In his 1968 book, "The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test," Tom Wolfe described Sawyer's church as a "marvelous modern building shaped like a huge Bermuda onion" and forming a towering dome with "fantastic acoustics."  

http://articles.latimes.com/2010/jul/12/local/la-me-paul-sawyer-20100711

After I parked my car on this hot day, I took a deep breath before I walked inside.  My father passed away in May, just a few weeks before Reverend Sawyer's passing in June, and now every memorial gives me time to also reflect on my dad, who I miss dearly, and remember him in so many ways. 

Inside the Onion for the first time, I was delighted and surprised to see the jazz musician Billy Mitchell and his trio in the program - and I later learned that Billy Mitchell was friends with Reverend Sawyer.  My dad also loved jazz and the Billy Mitchell Trio was among his favorites. And then I broke down in tears when they played Horace Silver's "Song for My Father" to begin the service.  It was good for me to be here, remembering my friend, who was also a father. 

Ministers from many faiths were present and spoke so eloquently, for Paul Sawyer inspired so deeply.  Paul's children added poetry and song and an unbelievably touching video montage, which gave me insight into the earlier years of this wonderful life. And the Billy Mitchell Trio brought us all to our feet as we joined in singing "Compared To What", a protest song written by Eugene McDaniels and made famous by Les McCann and Eddie Harris, and another favorite song of mine. 

The entire memorial was moving, and warm and reflected Reverend Sawyer's booming personality, now beautifully carried on by his children, who each played a part in the remembrance of their father.  Paul's wife Susan and I agreed it was a wonderful tribute.   I feel very fortunate to have known Paul Sawyer.  I have never known someone to be so passionate about helping other people, and with so much energy.  I think his daughter summed it up best, when she said what I think is one of the great memorial quotes of all time:  "My dad really wished he could have been here today."