Home Again
33 reasons to love the NBA from my favorite columnist. A great read.
Miraculously I finished fixing T's comp in 2 nights. Remember, a good spyware program is a must have. Windows XP sucks much dick. Switch to Apple.
While waiting for the antivirus and spyware programs I installed to clean out her comp T entertained me by showing me old home movies of her Dad. While this would bore the krap out of most people I watched spellbound. Her Father has always been something of a sore subject between the two of us as I would wonder how she could love a man who just disappeared and left her when she was a kid.
There he is dancing to Elvis. Walking around in Japan. Taking the family for a spin in their wood paneled station wagon. Shots of T as a baby and Pop's proudly holding her, sporting his 70's Bruce Lee shades. Old B-day partys and holidays. My favorite is a shot of her old man and Bachan in front of their restaurant (which would later become Asahi) and a walking tour of the old Sawtelle. I see my store the way it looked when I was a kid, faded green pain with dark red trim. Ketchies, Tensho, the gas station that was on the corner. Both of us watch wordlessly, mesmerized by our shared past. Rewind. I admit to ditching Sunday School and taking my offering money to Sawtelle for candy from Yamaguchi's and comics from Tensho. The video ends with a 10 year old T dancing at Obon, playing games, having her Dad offer her more money. She tells me he left a few months after that Obon. She has tears in her eyes when it's over.
I know better then to trash her old man like I always did in the past. Seeing how happy he was with her back in the day I wonder how a man can leave just take off and leave his family? I hope I never know or have to find out the hard way. For the first time ever, seeing him as a living, breathing person in our neighborhood instead of the blind man with no legs that I saw laying in a bed in Hawaii I feel pity for the man. I make a silent vow to myself not to talk shit anymore to her about the shrine to her Dad in the living room or how weird it is for her to keep his ashes there instead of a cemetery. At least she's at peace with him, home again.
Miraculously I finished fixing T's comp in 2 nights. Remember, a good spyware program is a must have. Windows XP sucks much dick. Switch to Apple.
While waiting for the antivirus and spyware programs I installed to clean out her comp T entertained me by showing me old home movies of her Dad. While this would bore the krap out of most people I watched spellbound. Her Father has always been something of a sore subject between the two of us as I would wonder how she could love a man who just disappeared and left her when she was a kid.
There he is dancing to Elvis. Walking around in Japan. Taking the family for a spin in their wood paneled station wagon. Shots of T as a baby and Pop's proudly holding her, sporting his 70's Bruce Lee shades. Old B-day partys and holidays. My favorite is a shot of her old man and Bachan in front of their restaurant (which would later become Asahi) and a walking tour of the old Sawtelle. I see my store the way it looked when I was a kid, faded green pain with dark red trim. Ketchies, Tensho, the gas station that was on the corner. Both of us watch wordlessly, mesmerized by our shared past. Rewind. I admit to ditching Sunday School and taking my offering money to Sawtelle for candy from Yamaguchi's and comics from Tensho. The video ends with a 10 year old T dancing at Obon, playing games, having her Dad offer her more money. She tells me he left a few months after that Obon. She has tears in her eyes when it's over.
I know better then to trash her old man like I always did in the past. Seeing how happy he was with her back in the day I wonder how a man can leave just take off and leave his family? I hope I never know or have to find out the hard way. For the first time ever, seeing him as a living, breathing person in our neighborhood instead of the blind man with no legs that I saw laying in a bed in Hawaii I feel pity for the man. I make a silent vow to myself not to talk shit anymore to her about the shrine to her Dad in the living room or how weird it is for her to keep his ashes there instead of a cemetery. At least she's at peace with him, home again.
posted by G Money at
12:23 AM
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