Life of Wry

The graduation parties began today.

I tried to have regular old party conversations with folks, but all I could think of was wow, these guys used to be kindergarteners. 

Like for example, Jacob, whose party this was, used to run around with Peter like this:

And Peter and Eli were best buddies for most of the elementary school years:

And now Jacob, Eli and Peter are practically men.

Reed and Peter looked like this when they graduated from sixth grade:

And now they look like this:

I know it happens. It’s just…

Here are a few more shots of the boys from Jacob’s graduation party… Jacob, Eli, Peter and Reed:

Jordon, Jacob, Eli, Peter, Reed, Frank and Daniel.

More of this to come. Please bear with.

This being June 3… it’s the 7th anniversary of David’s presence at Compassion Corner, and, overall, the anniversary of his journey with compassion. To mark the anniversary each year, he engages in a compassion marathon. He starts at midnight and remains at 3rd and C for the next 24 hours, meditating, talking with and/or listening to others, thinking.

It’s nice.

This morning at about 7, I went down to say hi:

School is very, very much winding down. Today was Peter’s last Friday of school! If that’s a thing. Only three more days of Davis High School, three more days of grade school. Then fini.

Here’s a casual shot that I took surreptitiously (I hope), of Ray, Solly and Peter, hanging out after school today :

That’s the HUB sprawled out on the counter, the annual final issue that lists where everyone’s going to school (or if they’re working or taking a gap year). Can’t imagine what they are laughing about here.

This particular HUB issue is another one of those end of year things I’ve been anticipating for years. Starting in kindergarten, you know that graduation is coming and that all the kiddos will be embarking on their post high school lives twelve years later. I’ve been so dying to see how some of these kids that we met in nursery school, or at Chavez, or who we played with on some baseball team, or whatever, turn out… where or how they will be taking their next steps.  It is a fascinating journey (speaking of journeys), and this is a huge part of it.

One of my teeny little problems in life is that I have selective dyslexia. I experience no dyslexia whatsoever, except when it comes to my sister-in-law, Teri, and her husband, Chad. For some reason, my brain just can’t get their names right, but only when I’m using both of their names at the same time, for example, “What time are Cherry and Tad arriving?” I have to run through all the iterations, perhaps a couple of times, before I finally arrive at the correct pair: Cherry and Tad; no, Tad and Cherry; no, Teri and Chad; wait, yeah, Teri and Chad.

That’s all there is to that story.

I just needed a lead-in for my blog, as I wanted to share a photo or two of them, taken during their visit this past week, because I really love when we see them, wish it was more often, and hope in our new future–Peter in college, Chad and Teri both retired (imminently)–we’ll be able to do that.

Plus, I think my occasional bout with dyslexia is kind of interesting, and certainly amusing… to me, anyway.

So a couple of photos. I posted this one already, but I like it a lot–taken at Aunt Annita’s service a week ago.

Chad looks a little like Dick Cheyney. Which is fascinating because his last name IS Cheyney and he actually IS related to Dick, in a distant way. It’s kind of remarkable that there is that much resemblance.

Another, this one with Jim:

Here’s one a few days later, when Teri and Chad visited us in Davis. Having lunch at Jim’s favorite haunt:

Great pic of the Frame sibs.

Bern’s people invited me to a rally. He was scheduled to step up on stage at 8:00. Anticipating a crowd, I took off for the IM field on my bike at about 3:15. I passed an old guy on A Street, hunched over, walking slowly, wearing a t-shirt with something about revolution printed on the back. I yelled, “Bernie Rally?” and he flashed me a smile and a thumbs up.

Locked my bike in a rack on La Rue, across the street from the Rec Hall and headed over.. I could see I was not the first to get there. TV trucks, tents bulging with volunteers, cases of water in tall stacks surrounding those tents, temporary railing arranged so that the lines of people could snake back and forth before passing through security check points, uniformed police and security personnel here and there, rows of porta potties, an arrangement of stages… and lots and lots of people.

When I took my place in line, I was probably back about 300-400 people. At that point, it was hard to tell it was a line because it wasn’t yet moving and people were clustered in spots under trees. It was friendly. Kids around me were talking about finals and summer plans. This guy worked the line selling T-shirts:

Then we were ushered onto the field to take our place among the makeshift maze of rails. Ran into Frances who’d volunteered to work the event. She’d just finished her training and was circulating among the crowd recruiting Bernie campaign get-out-the-vote workers for next week:

About an hour after first arriving, I was passing through the metal detectors:

The few hundred people in front of me fanned themselves around the main stage in an arc so large, I was still surprisingly close when I finally staked out my patch of grass.

And then… we sat. It was still three hours til showtime. I’m also surprised how fast that went. Two musical groups performed, both perfectly great, both striking just the right chord.

Here are the fifty or so folks assembled to serve as the diverse, multi-cultural-looking backdrop behind Bernie who will show up in all the media footage for this event. You can also see our own County Supervisor and candidate for State Assembly, Don Saylor, in the crowd:

You can see I’m close. I’d say about twenty people back, if that, and right on the rail between the crowd at-large and an area reserved for people with a variety of disabilities.  I felt like I had an escape route if I needed one (just hop over the rail into the spaciousness and protection of the ADA area). But I didn’t need that. Still, it gave me something to lean up against, which was very nice.

Here’s my requisite selfie:

For most of my three hour wait, I had ample space around me (way ampler than the above shot). But at a seemingly random moment, the entire crowd began to close in on the stage… here’s me starting to get totally squeezed:

And pretty soon my space was just me and a 1/2 to a foot or so of personal space.

Here are some crowd shots… to my right:

Behind me to the left:

A woman who was in the ADA area, standing on a chair, swaying to the music with her sign in hand:

There were only two warm up speakers… a rep from a nurses union and a congresswoman from Hawaii. Then there was the singing of the national anthem, which was unexpectedly emotional.

At exactly 8:00, Bernie entered the scene to deafening cheers. I have to admit, after the hours of waiting, and over a year of some pretty serious hero worship, it was very exciting. Exhilarating, even.

He got right to business–first thanking the previous speakers, the bands, the organizers, and then launched right in on 90 solid minutes of serious policy positions and proposals.

Everything he says I agree with. What he says, how he says it… I’m there. He’s intelligent, thoughtful, principled, consistent, full of integrity and passion. Sanders is a truly compassionate man and cares about the people he serves–all of them.

I heard crowd estimates that ranged from 8-18 thousand! It was his second of the day (Palo Alto earlier).

I predict California goes for Bernie.

Because of Tuesday’s election, the candidates are all in the state. While Bernie was at UCD talking to students, Trump was at the Sac Airport. I don’t really want to get into a compare and contrast, but you can probably guess which candidate showed up to his rally in his private jet and then put on a staged, glitzy WWF-like show with a vacuous, rambling speech long on poorly-constructed sentences, even longer on juvenile pot shots, and undoubtedly short on substantive policy positions.

Not going there.

So, here’s a neat thing: I heard that Bernie was in town earlier in the day. He had lunch at Black Bear Diner, then walked around downtown and the core area, just looking around. Here’s a shot somebody in our neighborhood got of him just outside their house at about 6th and B (and shared with a friend who shared it with me)… one block from our house, just hanging around with a few secret service agents in tow. (It was in the high 90s.)

Further, at 7:43, just seventeen minutes before going on stage, he was loading up the motorcade, which was parked ON A STREET, RIGHT ACROSS THE STREET FROM OUR HOUSE.  Margaret saw him and texted me at that moment.Peter was also at the rally. Jim was in the house and heard nothing.

Man… I tell you… if I’d have known… I’d have loved to shake his hand, or invite him in to chill. Can you imagine?

I’ll tell you who WASN’T walking around a sleepy neighborhood… talking to, connecting with, and absolutely relating to regular folks.

Go Bernie.

Every year, DHS gives out a whole bunch of awards–academic, athletic, leadership, service, effort, etc–to [some of] its most fabulous graduating seniors.

I’ve read about these awards in the newspaper for years and always projected ahead to our graduating class, wondering who would earn what.

We didn’t expect to be attending to watch Peter receive a prestigious scholarship or service award. I thought it was within the realm of possibility that he’d get a physics award… if numerous were given out (nope, only one). But, when I got home from work at about 6:15, I learned that Peter was, in fact, on the list of kids receiving awards tonight (ceremony started at 6:00).  The list has been posted outside the career center on campus for about a week, but I figured Peter would have mentioned if he was getting anything. (I’d temporarily forgotten who my son is..)

He knew he was getting something because his name was on the list with probably another 100-200 kids, but had no inkling of what award he’d received. He figured it wasn’t anything of note, decided to prioritize his Spanish homework (you heard that right) and chose to stay home. Ray, who’d been hanging out with Peter when I got home, was dashing out to attend (late though he was… he was getting one for band excellence). He’s the one who told me Peter was on the list.

Well, being that parent, I decided I’d go… one, out of curiosity, two, to support/enjoy all the other kids, many of whom I’d surely know (yes and no, as it turns out).

Cutting to the chase, Peter got something called the Seal of Biliteracy, awarded to students achieving a certain level of proficiency in a second language:

There were a smattering of honorees in Chinese, Japanese, German, and French and a LOT of Spanish students who earned this distinction. the huge number of bi-literate Spanish students is largely because hundreds (a new crop of ~100 annually) of Davis kids attend Cesar Chavez and start on the path of language proficiency very early.

Which is not to diminish Peter’s (and his comrades’) achievement at all. I am extremely pleased that Peter can speak Spanish, even as he flounders in his Spanish literature class this year. Let’s remember, it’s Spanish SIX. It wasn’t always pretty, but he stuck it out.. something HE wanted to do. I’m really proud of him for that. And, with a little bit of luck, he’ll pass that bugger of a class (thus his opting to stay home and do his final round of homework) and have under his belt a reasonable proficiency and.. an award for same.

The list of ~143 reads like a Cesar Chavez Elementary Who’s Who… here’s most of it… (my picture misses most of the “S”s and on):

I have to say, there were many kids receiving awards that I didn’t know. Peter didn’t run in organized academic circles (clubs, federations, societies and competing academic teams of this and that), and didn’t knock himself out in service and social clubs. But, I did know a good number of the kids, and enjoyed cheering them on.

Here’s a shot I managed to get… you know… iPhone from a distance in the dark:

Kiddos I know: Ryan K., Jonathan W., Madison T., Chenoa D.

Principal Brown was on stage and got a better shot. He posted this one to Facebook… same kids, much clearer. I think, in addition, that may be Julia K. next to Ryan, and Conner A. in the back. Had Peter gone, he’d have been seated up on stage, as well, with all the student honorees (of which there were about 200). Parents and families were seated in the audience.

Largely, it looks like the future’s in good hands.

Michael Ann posted the lyrics to a song she wrote about her dad, Peter. I think it’s a beautiful statement of love and honor. (Her dad is alive and well, and enjoying his daughter’s songwriting.)

I appreciate the glimpse into the hearts and experiences of those who serve in the military.

One Soldier’s Love
A few years ago I wrote this song in honor of all soldiers, but especially my dad, a career soldier who fought in Vietnam. This is also to honor the families of soldiers, who sacrifice much. Still yet to be recorded but I wanted to share the words. Thank you soldiers… I love you Dad.

I pretty much ate my way through this day. Started with brunch at Bernardo’s with Jim, a regular thing. Within an hour of getting home, took off again to join Janet for lunch (and may I say the salad bar at Whole Foods is amazing). Within an hour of returning, took off again for late afternoon wine and apps with Frances… took a bunch of food and wine over to the park across the street and sat under a tree, which was cool and pleasant on this 90 degree day. Then headed over to the I-House for sort of an open mic concert, at which they served desserts and I apparently hadn’t had enough to eat today, so I got a large brownie.

What in the world is wrong with me?

I’m a good eater.

This was the concert…

Five-Three-Oh. They sing 60s oldies and also perform a bunch of their own stuff.  I’ve heard them numerous times and always enjoy their energy. They have great chemistry and always come across as people who enjoy one another and enjoy singing and performing together. My favorite tonight was a song called, I think, Once in a Very Blue Moon. Nancy Griffith performs it, though I’m not sure she wrote it. In any case, Michael Ann sounded great singing it.

~~

Peter submitted his Statement of Intent to Register at UCSD tonight. I’m impressed and pleased.

This is what Peter’s doing instead of college paperwork.

(College paperwork…right…old term. It’s all online now. Whatever. The point is, he’s not doing it.)

If you’ve been following this transition-to-college saga, and I wouldn’t blame you at all if you’re not,  you might remember that we were all but done with the lion’s share of the bigger decision-making aspects of this process. He’d decided, if begrudgingly, on UC Santa Cruz–which was the granddaddy of all decisions. Huge decision; I’ve written a lot about it. He had made his college-within-the-college selection and been accepted into Stevenson, which seemed a good fit. He’d filled out the dorm application and decided on a meal plan. We’d selected a date for our orientation (yes, our, because parents simultaneously attend their own orientation), and built our summer plans around that and move-in day and the first day of classes. He’d even, with the help of our friend Wes, set up a face-to-face meeting with a real live Santa Cruz physics professor, one who wrote the book on string theory, literally, which was going to help him feel connected and confident and enthusiastic.

We’d made great progress! We were finally settling in for the summer. The college application-acceptance–enrollment process was almost just a fading nightmare.

But then something extraordinary happened. But before I mention that, a little more backstory:

Recall that way back when, all the way back to last Fall and extending into February, he’d had to decide which colleges to even apply to. This was one laborious, teeth pulling process. (Ha, ha, did I say “process?” A process might suggest some method to the madness. There was some, but of course it wasn’t the kind of process one imagines and hopes for, the exhaustive and thoughtful process outlined in the numerous books that offer guidance on such huge, life-altering, momentous decisions.) He’d not only had to narrow down the universe of schools and select a reasonable number of reach schools, good bets, and fall backs, but he also had to pull together the applications for said schools. That was months of sheer hell, a smidge exciting, but largely difficult. Wrote plenty about that, too.

Still, he managed twelve applications. I’m not sure how, but he did, with help (thanks to Brooke), but wow. Twelve applications in by deadline. He ended up getting accepted at four, waitlisted at four and rejected at four (which somewhat, but not completely, corresponded to the reach, good and sure bet distinctions). High among his hopefuls was UC San Diego. UCSD emerged as a top choice when Berkeley and UCLA seemed ridiculously unattainable, and NYU and other out of state schools too expensive. Alas, UCSD turned out to be one of schools at which is was waitlisted. Which was a little heartbreaking and left him with choices that did not excite him. Blah blah blah… Santa Cruz it was.

Well, cutting to the chase here..

Lo and behold, at 1:30am a couple of days ago, he learned he’d been accepted at UCSD. Practically his dream school (discounting Cal Tech and MIT, which he didn’t even bother applying to, and the aforementioned Berkeley and UCLA).  He’d made a practice of checking his admission status at UCSD daily–often several times daily–since the date he’d been notified of his waitlist status. Some UCs were admitting students from their waitlists, but not all. It’s a big UC shuffle thing, based first on one’s qualifications, and secondly on who’s accepted where, and where they ultimately decide to go. I presume the whole thing is just very complicated and it’s also different every single year, completely dependent on the applicant pool, which is ever evolving. Well, with a June 1 close to the UC acceptance process looming, his chances were dwindling. He hadn’t heard from either UC Irvine or UC San Diego. But he still checked regularly.

So, as you might imagine, when he casually checked his status, not expecting anything different than the hundreds of previous checks, and found his status changed, he was ecstatic. His acceptance was huge news–thus the announcement at 1:30am, excitedly, loudly delivered next to our bed.  He was over the moon.

I lay there, awake, for the next three hours processing this. UCSD is more his concept of the college experience: a bigger school, taller buildings, more students, greater energy, lots of sports programs. UCSD is highly ranked among other UCs academically and has a very good physics program. It has a great study abroad program, a baseball club team, a beautiful library and proximity to a big city (sorta). Peter’s very good friend and fellow pitcher Ray is also an entering freshman and Ray’s older brother Bobby is a senior this year, on the baseball club team and can serve as a bit of a mentor. Torrey Pines golf course is across the street. Our friend Rick’s son is a professor there. Did I mention tall buildings?

UCSD is my alma mater.

He’s thrilled. UCSD speaks to him. He’s proud of himself. Instead of feeling resigned about his choice, he feels excited, and very, very pleased. He is ready to be identified as a Triton. (But really, who wouldn’t want to be a Banana Slug??) As his mom, I’m so grateful he is starting off his college experience feeling good about where he’s going instead of the alternative. We were making a lot of lemonade about Santa Cruz. Truth be told, it would have been a fine experience, but he was lacking the kind of enthusiasm you want them to have when embarking on such a big chapter in their lives.

So it is all fantastic. And it’s a bunch of forms, processes, refunds, to do lists, calls, emails. We have to undo all the Santa Cruz stuff, including that nice meet up with the physics professor, and start anew with San Diego. With everything: his UCSD account, mail, ID, his orientation, dorm, meal plan. All the dates to know, all the deadlines. And it’s all bearing down on us in the next two days. All of it has to be done. On this holiday weekend.

One would have thought that with all this new-found enthusiasm and gratefulness, he’d plow through the forms like nobody’s business, that he’d be so quick on the draw it’d make our heads spin. Like he’d want to confirm and secure his spot and quickly get to where he was just a couple days ago with Santa Cruz: done and ready. He’d done it before, he’d just do it again.

But no.

He says he hasn’t fully decided. (What?! Jim says that is about controlling the process, being in charge, being independent. Not to worry.) Peter is going to let this go right up until the final moment. If it’s not due until May 31, he’s not going to move on it until then. I’m going to have to back off, let it go, chill.

Not my strong suit.

All I can do (or should do) is watch from the sidelines and gently support when/if asked. Let him fail if that’s where this is going. Santa Cruz is a fine choice!

And I can document with incriminating photos.

Jim’s Aunt Annita died on April 18 at the age of 92. I wrote about her here, when she went into Piedmont Gardens a year and a half ago. Her passing was very peaceful and she was comfortable, though I’m not sure she was very aware of much. We all felt like we’d said our good-byes long ago.

The service was today and it felt so wonderful to gather with everyone and celebrate her. She was a devout catholic so there were elements in the service–called a committal service–that were important to include.  The chapel was filled with many non and former catholics and I thought the priest did a great job of honoring her faith, and still making it meaningful for those remembering her.

Here’s the chapel:

Here is our whole group:

She was cremated and her box was buried way up the hill, right next to her mom and older sister (Jim’s mom Sonia):

Here’s her husband, Uncle Dean, at the gravesite:

Teresa and Chad:

The John Frames:

My guys:

We went back to Monica and Dror’s following the service. Here are a few family shots:

Her grandkids: Matthew, Dean, Peter and Ben (unable to come: Maia and Brian):

Her two daughters, Marie and Monica, with Peter and Ben in foreground:

Teresa, Marsue, Alan, Marty:

Dror and John:

Jim and his siblings:

And one I particularly like of Ben and Peter.. cousins and friends:

RIP, Annita. We love you.

Moving right along….

Popped this in the mail today:

That is Peter’s dorm and meal plan application/contract thingie. Had I not had a chance encounter with the mom of another UCSC-bound freshman at the food coop the other night, I’d have never known we were up against a May 25th deadline for getting this application in, the failure of which would have meant no on-campus housing for the first year.

Thank you Ruth. Thank you universe.

Let’s just say the flood of end-of-year paperwork is substantial and keeping up with the logistics of graduating from one institution, while applying to, registering for, and enrolling in another, is a lot of balls to keep in the air. On top of grad party(ies) planning, 18th birthday planning, baseball season wrap up, grad night committee work, graduation trip planning, summer vacation planning…

have I whined about this already? Probably.

No place I’d rather be.

~~

And then there was a little of this, a little later in the day:

Waited here this afternoon, while Peter tried on his fancy new, freshly tailored blue suit. The sales associate at Nordstrom told me the style was modern and fashionable, perfect for a college-bound man–narrower cut than traditional, some prominent stitching on the lapels, discreetly placed band of color (purple, actually) beneath the collar… all designed with hip young adults in mind.

Good job, Jim and Peter.

This made for a fun and interesting Sac excursion with the boy.

~~

And a final pair of photos:

Peter’s dinner dog…

…which I thought he did a nice job of decorating… er… condimenting.

And mine:

I was in an unadulterated mood.

It was my second hot dog of the week, though, so I’m pretty satisfied.