Life of Wry

Saturday was a three parter. Nothing a flexible mind and a full tank of gas can’t pull off.

The day started with an early morning drive through the central valley to attend the first baseball game of the season — a scrimmage against St. Mary’s in Stockton — on a day perfect for such things. Sun, green grass, seventies.

This shot of the protective netting was supposed to be a shot of Peter’s first at-bat as a JV ball player.

It’s okay.. he popped up to second, not a lot to see there.

Any day that I get to watch Peter play baseball is a great day, and I’d have loved to luxuriate in it, especially the first one since early last fall. Fun to be with the other parents, fun to see how the kids had all grown (a phenomenon so startling!) and just plain fun to be in full spring time baseball mode.

He played the whole game at short stop, minus an inning pitching, and would later make a spectacular catch at short stop, but I missed it, because right after his at-bat, I took off for San Francisco….

A month or two ago, before baseball schedules were out, I’d managed to get a single ticket to see the Dalai Lama.  So.. I grudgingly left the game and headed to the Bay Area for part two of the day.

Very nice drive across the valley and hills. Lot of windmills along 205, very pretty. Hit a bit of traffic on the Bay Bridge (though I do love Fasttrack):

But made it in time to find parking, clear the security checks and settle in. Here’s a pre-talk shot of the stage in Davies Symphony Hall:

His appearance was sponsored by the American Himalayan Foundation–an organization founded by Richard Blum and one I know pretty well, having attended two of their dinners now–and another of Blum’s passions, the Blum Center for Developing Economies at UC Berkeley. Blum, an investment banker and Dianne Feinstein’s husband, puts a lot of his wealth into the remote communities of the Himalayas and toward other efforts to alleviate poverty globally.  Everything I’ve seen of him has been genuinely gracious and compassionate.  Seems a good man.

Seeing the Dalai Lama seemed a no brainer–of course I’d want to be in his presence and hear what he had to say.  And.. I was glad to have had the experience of being there, to see what is done to welcome and introduce him, even to see the protests outside the hall (he’s not universally respected).  And while it was indeed exciting and worth being there, I didn’t understand any of what he said. Even with my hearing aids cranked full volume, I couldn’t do better than a word here or there, and never strung together enough words to understand a single sentence. Not one. Between his accent, his pronunciation and cadence, and his gravelly voice, I missed it all.  More often than not, he’d present his comments in slightly awkward english, but from time to time, he’d slip into his own dialect of Chinese, in which case, his interpreter would take over. I often did not even detect the language change until his interpreter spoke up.  Basically, I was clueless.  (Later last night, I watched a video of, more or less, the same talk recorded in Santa Barbara a few years ago. I got a better sense of what he said and how he spoke, but yesterday, on the fly, I was utterly and disappointingly lost.) After the first minute, I knew I was doomed. I considered leaving, but then decided to just sit back, close my eyes and listen to the rhythm. Mostly I heard every single cough and throat clearing in the hall; it seemed like every last person had a cold.

Walked around the Civic Center a bit. There were Ukraine protests and just lots of bright spring day hanging around going on.

Here’s a shot of the back side of City Hall from the second floor of Davies:

Here’s the front side of City Hall with a rainbow flag. Yay SF:

Left the city, got home about 6:00 and immediately took off for part three — dinner at friends’.  Ate burritos and watched Fargo, for something completely different than the day’s earlier Buddhist and americana themes.

Fargo’s a great movie.