Revisiting My Heart and San Francisco

San Francisco is my favorite city so when Alibris sponsored a booksellers conference in this city, I was among the first to enroll. I had not been back in ten years so it was time to return plus I wanted to hang out with my niece, Janette and her husband Peter. Janette came to San Francisco after she graduated from Georgetown University a few years ago and we could not persuade her to return to the Midwest. I can see why.

I booked my hotel via Hotwire. (I'm cheap.) With Hotwire, you don't get the name of the hotel until after you pay. I was pleasantly surprised with Club Quarters (on 424 Clay St at the Embarcadero) which was strategically located, a block away from the conference venue, five blocks to China town and five blocks to the Embarcadero waterfront in the opposite direction.  Club Quarters is a business hotel with few frills. The elevator can only be operated with a card key, lending a sense of safety. Senior travelers and single women would feel safe here. The room was comfortable, clean and equipped with free wi-fi connection. The bed was comfortable.  Hotel price included the use of computers with printers in the club room (convenient for printing boarding passes) and free exercise room (or you could get exercise equipment sent to your room.) Coffee and tea was available all day and a guest closet in the hallway provided extra linen, bottled water and irons and ironing boards.

My late husband, Felix and I always visited China town in any city that had one. Friday was a free day so I woke up early to explore.  Up and down the hills I went in search for breakfast other than bacon and eggs. Felix chose Chinese restaurants by watching which one Chinese denizens patronized because he believed he would get the real thing.  Unfortunately, the first one I found filled with Asian customers did not have English speaking servers nor a menu in English.  I settled for a dim sum bakery where I instinctively ordered won ton and noodle soup (for breakfast?) and steamed pork bun.  It wasn't until midway through the meal that I realized why.  In my starving medical student days in 1960's Manila, this was all I could afford and I remembered days upon days when this was my lunch fare. In a way, it was like being home again.

For a small city, parks are every place in San Francisco.  Within the same street four block from each other was Trans America Redwood Park where redwood trees are beginning to tower and a China town park populated by young and older Asians chatting, playing, exercising and playing chess. I hoped to find a tai chi group in full swing and found none. After taking pictures of colorful Chinese lanterns and pagodas and losing haggling battles with jewelry and clothing vendors, I cut my losses and walked the opposite way to the Embarcadero waterfront.  By now, it was lunch time and the park was full of people on their lunch hour listening to street musicians while they ate and tourists shopping the various craft stands around.  Some, as I did, just sat on  benches watching the water, boats and people.

San Francisco holds tender memories for me.  It is the first US city Felix and I lived in when we arrived from the Philippines in 1967, $200.00 in his wallet, a suitcase a piece, and no employment. We got our social security cards with consecutive numbers here.  We spent hours upon hours in the library looking at job ads and walking the streets looking for work. Coming from a conservative upbringing, we were in culture shock with the hippie generation, flower children, people protesting the Vietnam war and making love in the parks.  Revisiting these places forty three years later, San Francisco is still quite enchanting.  Haight Ashbury which had been a rundown drug haven in the 60's is now home to the affluent.  The flower children are now senior citizens, perhaps more conservative but still fun loving.  They are still in the parks watching their grandchildren play, sitting on the dock by the bay, or rocking to music in the night life of the city.

It is hard not to live a bohemian life style here. The city is only 46.7 sq miles so people live, work and play close to each other. In 2008, it ousted Seattle from the top rank of the most fit city in the US, rated by the American College of Sports Medicine based on personal health indicators, environmental health indicators and health care providers.  There is walking, biking, jogging, surfing, tennis, golf and any number of sports activities.  In the beaches, attired parents play ball with their children in close proximity to naked men and women without embarrassment or judgment, no big deal. It has the bay, wonderful weather, great sports teams, restaurants, and diverse culture.  

I remember loving San Francisco for its great tolerance and even embracing of differences and uniqueness.  Many cultures meet here, people from different countries, (Filipinos comprise a good chunk of the population.) people of different religions, sexual persuasions, professions, and beliefs.  Artists perform in street corners. There are restaurants to fulfill craving for different ethnic cuisine.  My niece and I pigged out on adobo and kari-kari at Goldilocks one of the ethnic restaurants where Filipinos go for the taste of home. ( We had been craving for daing-and tuyo- fried dried fish. They ran out just as we got there, big disapointment.)

I met my brother-in-law Mario for the first time in San Francisco.  Barely out of his teens and the Philippine Merchant Marine Academy, Mario spent months on end at sea as first mate on a merchant marine vessel.  Our paths did not cross until one day in China town, by happenstance, Felix turned around and saw him. Neither one knew that they were in the same city.  Mario had a one day furlough while his ship unloaded cargo and we had a very moving reunion.  Mario is now a mild mannered, accountant, devoted husband and father, land-locked in the Midwest.  Few know of his youthful escapades and wild adventurous past.

It was a great weekend of reminiscing.  The weather was great, the flowers colorful, the city as I remembered, only better. The conference was good, too.  I learned so much about selling books I am confident I can make a profit this year.  As I revisited familiar places, I felt that Felix was there,too, with his opinionated comments about people, food, shopping and what have you, while at the same time thoroughly enjoying himself.

A Weekend in Sedona

Ten years ago, I trained in Reiki, an energy healing technique but never really got into it so I decided to hone my skills and become more proficient. Where else should one go to study healing techniques but to Sedona, Arizona, the place of red rocks and vortices and healers.  It was also a test to see how well I would enjoy traveling alone. 


The training was on a Saturday and Sunday so I gave myself time to get there a day early and leave a day later. From Kansas City, it is a 2 1/2 hour flight to Phoenix and a two hour drive to Sedona.  I decided to enjoy the convenience of a shuttle van and leave the driving to a courteous knowledgeable shuttle driver doubling as a tour guide. (Reservations have to be made ahead of time, cost $99.00 round trip plus tip.)  Red rock mountains and tall saguaro cacti populate the landscape along the Sonoran desert.

I stayed at Iris Garden Rodeway Inn, a bare bones but comfortable inn with free continental breakfast and helpful staff. I chose it for the reasonable rate, ($100.00/night for senior citizens) and the proximity to the training center. (Be prepared to spend upwards of $1,000/night if you check into one of the resort hotels which offer different cuisine and resort amenities.) 



The towns of Sedona and Oak Creek rest in the foothills of the southwestern rim of the Colorado Plateau.  Being on the high desert, it boasts of mild year round temperature (47F-75F) and clean air.  From anywhere in town you can see red rock formations. Golf, art galleries and resorts abound here. The main drag is filled with tourist trappings of expensive clothing, crystal stores, healing practices and food establishments.  There are psychic readers on every block, aura scanners, yoga, massage practitioners and what have you.  For an alternative medicine practitioner such as myself, this was a candy store though I was not buying. Go further out and Cococino National Park and other nature preserves offer unlimited possibilities for the nature lover and outdoors man. 


The story goes that Theodore Carl Schnebly who settled in from Gorin, Missouri had petitioned the US Postal Service for a post office in the area. Oak Creek Canyon and other names submitted to the post office were rejected for being too long to fit on a cancellation stamp. Schnebly's brother suggested Sedona, the name of Theodore Schnebly's wife, to be the postal town address.  It has been Sedona ever since.


There are many activities in Sedona. Different tours are available almost on the hour every hour.  There are red rocks tours, vortex tours, hiking tours and native American spiritual guided tours.   I embarked on a Pink Jeep tour of the red rock mountains. The pink jeep is a pink all terrain vehicle.  It is a bumpy but enjoyable ride that takes you to the top of the mountain and back down along rocky terrain sometimes with an almost 100 degree angle drop.  My children would certainly have been upset had I met my demise there. "Elderly woman crushed under jeep in bottom of Red Rocks Canyon."      

The mountains are given names befitting their shape.  Submarine mountain which looks like a submarine is a great photo op location. Snoopy is a natural formation which looks like Snoopy laying on his back.  This rim of the Colorado plateau is amazing and awe inspiring.  Millions of years ago, the sea went inland into this place and when it dried out, the formations appeared.  Copper gives the red rock sandstone its color. Mountain bikers, hikers and rock climbers enjoy the challenges here.


Standing in the midst of this grandeur, I learned a couple of things about myself. I learned that that I could enjoy traveling alone, exploring the world alone, going places I might not have gone before and meeting people of different ages, nationalities and cultures.  I found out that I was still in good shape and could hike as well as the 30 something kids I was with. (Hike, not climb. The jeep did all the climbing.) 


Just like my earlier life experiences standing on top of the Colorado Rocky Mountains, the Grand Canyon and Niagara Falls, I felt humbled by the majesty of the universe and how a lifetime is nothing more than a blink of an eye in the face of the eternity that these places signify. The most important lesson came in one brief moment on the canyon when I was one with the universe.  In a precise same moment, I felt as vast and timeless as the red rocks and the blue sky beyond and as tiny and rooted in time as the tiny grain of red rock sand I stood on. 
  

Famous Filipinos: Apl.de.Ap of the Back Eyed Peas

The quartet The Black Eyed Peas is certain to gather Grammy awards and even more following this year. Band member, apl.de.ap, who has long been a hit in the Philippines and a voice for Philippine tourism, is sure to bring more attention to his country of origin.

The Black Eyed Peas quartet has taken the music world by storm since their inception in 1995.  Formed by best friends, will.i.am and apl.de.ap who met at John Marshall High School in Los Angeles, the group recorded hit after hit starting with the album, Behind the Front. "Where Is the Love" from the album Elephunk was on top of the billboards in the US, UK and Australia for weeks on end. Their music video, Yes, We Can, shot in black and white, taken entirely from a Barack Obama speech and performed with different celebrities illustrates the group's keen appreciation for American culture in their music.

The quartet is a crew of unlikely musicians who are also very good friends and each other's best support.  African American will.i.am, (William James Adams, Jr.,)official spokesperson, plays instruments and sings. Filipino American apl.de.ap (Allan Pineda Lindo) also plays clavinet and strings.  Taboo, (Jaime Luis Gonzales) Mexican and Native American vocalist worked in the Disneyland clean up staff before joining the group, and Fergie (Stacy Ferguson,) child actor and singer overcame a battle with addiction to resume her singing career.


Apl.de.ap was born in Sapang Bato, Pampanga, Philippines.  His father, an African American service man, abandoned the family and young Lindo had to work to help his mother support the family.  An American, Joe Ben Hudgens, provided financial sponsorship through the Pearl S. Buck Foundation, a foundation which helps disadvantaged Amerasian children.  Hudgens later sponsored Apl to immigrate to the US. Apl was 14.  This tale of his life and the Filipino plight is featured in The Apl Song video (Elephunk album 2003,) recorded in rap in Tagalog and English, incorporating Filipino instruments. Bebot (Tagalog colloquial for hot chick) video recorded in the 2005 album Monkey Business, is a rap in Tagalog and has generation one and two versions. Filmed in LA with Filipino Americans and Black Eyed Peas, the song video provides a slice of Filipino life which will resonate with Filipino youth. Some criticize the video for oversexualizing the Filipino woman. It has, nonetheless, been a hit in the Philippines.

Apl's pride in his Filipino heritage is obvious in the Filipino rap included in  Black Eyed Peas albums where he has introduced the Filipino sound.  Like the other members of the group who are equally successful in their own right with their individual albums, Apl has projects with Filipino artists in the works. His website features his sound which he calls Jeepney Music, (perhaps taken from his childhood days of taking hour jeepney rides to get to school.)  The Black Eyed Peas have made a video "Take Me to the Philippines" with the Philippine tourism board. Despite his tremendous success, Apl seems grounded in his Filipino roots and works hard to bring the Philippines with him into the spotlight.  Watch Apl perform with the Black Eyed Peas at the Grammys.

(Note: I suggest Filipinos watch the entire video.)
                                                                                                                                                                                                      

The Dancing Inmates of Cebu Provincial Detention and Rehabilitation Center Hit the Big Time

My sisters in the Philippines turned me on to the dancing inmates of the Cebu Provincial Detention and Rehabilitation Center and I have been following them on You Tube for sometime. They have now hit the big time with a Sony DVD of Michael Jackson's This Is It.




Cebu Provincial Detention and Rehabilitation Center (CPDRC) is a maximum security prison in the province of Cebu in the Philippines. The inmates include criminals convicted of violent crimes like murder, rape and drug trafficking. Some are serving multiple life terms.Yes, they, too, dance among the 1500 strong cast. Some are lead dancers.

The inmate dance troupe is the brain child of Byron F. Garcia, security consultant and prison official, who was inspired by Mozart music streaming in the prison yard in the movie Shawshank Redemption. Starting with yard exercises set to pop music, the activity progressed to full dance routines. The dance group came to international attention when their You Tube production of The Thriller by Michael Jackson uploaded in July 2007 immediately moved to the 5th spot in Time Magazines Most Popular Viral Video by December 2007. CPRDC dancers in their orange jumpsuits have performed before many Philippine dignitaries including the Catholic Archbishop and the Cebu provincial Governor. They perform for visitors on certain weekends and have participated in local festivals including the 438th Founding Day of Cebu. Within hours of Michael Jackson's passing, the inmates put together a tribute dance video of his songs, rehearsing for hours, pausing only for meals.

CPDRC dancing inmates have been the subject of the British documentary, Murderers on the Dance Floor aired in 2008 and CNN news. Japanese and Korean singers have performed with the inmates and made videos to air in their countries.

The dance project has been widely received by both inmates and staff. In 2007, the inmates were in included in the provincial employee capital bonus each inmate receiving 1000.00 pesos ($20-22.00) as incentive for their hard work.

The program is not without its detractors. Some criticize the program as cruel and cite torture of prisoners who refuse to participate. Program founder Byron Garcia responded to critics in one of the videos "There are sick people who think that dancing is a form of cruel punishment! Since when was dancing categorized as punishment? My fellow citizens of the world, cruel and violent forms of punishment are a thing of the past. If we make jails a living hell for these inmates , then, we might just be sending out devils once they are released and re-integrated to society. To all "non-believers" of humane treatment of prisoners, and to all haters of our non-violent approach to rehabilitation, all I can say is ...get a life!"

Byron Garcia may be on to something very significant here. The logistics of having 1500 hardened inmates, many with nothing to look forward to, to set aside gang affiliations and personal differences,work towards a common goal and step as one to the beat of a common rhythm; that boggles the mind. Members of the US Legislature, Executive and Judicial branch, pay attention. There may be a lesson for all here. I have great hope for you.

Wherever you stand in the controversy, watch these men and women. They are awesome dancers and in some ironic way, by their example they may also teach us how to work for a common goal.

Watch by clicking on highlighted phrases like this  You Tube external link.


Published on 1/26/2010 at: http://nora8197.qondio.com/

I Wish All a Blessed New year

As I watched the Times Square ball come down to mark the New Year, events of the past year and the past decade came to mind. With it came my hope and prayers for a blessed year for all.

The decade was both a time of tragedy and a time of new beginnings.  We suffered tragedies both nature and man made as we witnessed the devastation of tsunami, earthquakes, typhoons and flooding and the ravages of man in 911 and the economic meltdown.  US soldiers have been fighting on two fronts. The auto industry, once an American symbol of promise and affluence came tumbling down along with industries and businesses that heavily depended on them.  Families lost their homes first in a wave of the subprime mortgage fiasco and a subsequent wave of employment lost. Men, women and children continue to die of hunger somewhere in the world. Michael Jackson's music genius is no more.

In the same decade, man achieved great things.  The US elected its first Black President. It saw acts of unprecedented heroism in 911 and events such as seasoned pilots saving passengers from going into the Hudson River.  Outpouring of gift giving followed the tsunami while billionaires Bill Gates and Warren Buffet pledged to spend their billions in philanthropy to improve the human condition.  Web technology grew by leaps and bounds allowing families to connect with each other continents away on social media like Facebook, Twitter and Skype. Mobile technology, portable readers, and Iphones promise more applications to come. Man is developing awareness of the earth as a living being requiring nurture, respect and respite. Athletes achieved unprecedented personal bests even as some fell from grace. Filipino boxer, Manny Pacquiao, won unprecedented titles in different weight classes while Michael Phelps broke 37 swimming records and won eight Olympic medals. Michael Vick and Tiger Woods fell from grace with their fans. US legislators passed a health care bill.

It was the worst of times.  It was the best of times. The decade saw the worst and the best of man.

Just as each day is a new day, each year is a new beginning.  For my part, I hope to live a gentler, kinder, loving life with gratitude for all that is given.  For everyone, I wish each new day to be a blessed day filled with grace.

Kansas City Jazz Revisited

My niece, Janette, visiting from San Francisco, wanted to listen to Kansas City jazz so I found us tickets to Diverse, an up and coming jazz group playing a one night gig at the Record Bar on Westport Road.

Janette, herself, is an accomplished pianist and music lover while I am, at best, a very reluctant jazz lover. I am tone deaf. I can't carry a tune. I am a piano and guitar lesson flunkie. And I am a lover of Elvis Presley, doowop, The Platters and ABBA. My late husband, Felix, on the other hand, loved jazz and took it upon himself to lure me away from what he considered to be my pedestrian taste and educate me on the finer points of jazz music. "I know all about jazz." I used to say. "I wrote a paper on Tin Pan Alley and the History of Jazz in high school." "That's not learning it." He insisted. "You have to feel the music and let it speak to your soul." He would say. And so it was that I allowed him to drag me to jazz concerts, (the likes of Count Basie even) and to jazz festival pub crawls when we were healthy enough to withstand second hand smoke and to the French Quarter in New Orleans and jazz clubs in Chicago. He had me listen to musicians like Pete Fountain, Charlie Parker, Al Hirt and others. Felix thoroughly loved live jazz while I, on the other hand, struggled to listen to instrument improvisations that go on for several minutes at a time, hoping it would speak to my soul. Jazz lovers don't care that in a two hour concert, the band may have played only eight compositions. Elvis and The Platters can speak to my soul in three minutes. Needless to say, jazz and I were not on the same page, my taste being limited to Dixie and Dave Brubeck. Ask me about jazz and Watermelon Man comes to mind. Because my husband loved it, I tried to be friends with it, sometimes even allowing myself to enjoy musicians like Wynton and Branford Marsalis.

Back to Diverse. Diverse was the last jazz band I took Felix to. We were invited to listen to them in the home of one of the Friends of Jazz Club in January this year. Surprisingly I liked them, so I invited Janette and her parents who were not jazz fans themselves to this one night show.

Diverse has a sound that is young, eclectic and fun. Members of the band have won awards and played with well known bands. Young (early twenties, two of them still in college at the University of Missouri Kansas City Conservatory of Music) but extremely talented, all the band members compose and create most of tunes they play. Ryan Lee plays drums; Ben Leifer is on bass; William Sanders plays tenor sax, John Brewer plays piano and rhodes and Hermon Mehari is on trumpet. Some Bobby Watson sound is noticeable in their compositions, not surprising since they have him for a mentor. I thought I heard some Charlie Parker influence as well but what do I know. Nonetheless, what I liked about them is that they made jazz enjoyable to people like me with their playful syncopations, the different styles that seem to come together just right and the sheer mastery of their instrument. And they seemed to be having fun doing it.

No, I am sorry to say, they still did not speak to my soul like Elvis or ABBA would have.

Find out more about Diverse at Diversejazz, listen to their sound, buy their CD and when they are rich and famous, remember, you heard it first from me. The Record Bar is at 1020 Westport Rd, Kansas City, MO.

A Lesson in Grieving

Last night I had a very Freudian dream. It seems I had enrolled in pilot school. My husband, Felix, who passed away a few months ago and I drove to the airport for the lessons. He waited in the car while I went in. I went into the airplane which also had a store and bought what seemed to be a pilot bag. There was an announcement on the loud speaker that all students should now be on the plane which was leaving in five minutes. Suddenly I panicked and said I couldn't go. I had to get off the plane because Felix was waiting and needed a ride home. Then a voice which was both Felix' and an awake part of me said, "It is all right. I am dead. I do not need a ride. I am already home." Before I could decide, the plane took off with me in it. The plane was crowded. There was a big buffet with lots of food. A server saw my puzzled look and said it was all right. They always did this as thanksgiving and proceeded to serve me. Meanwhile, a fire had started in the back of the plane and the loud speaker once again blurted that it was now the job of the students to land the plane safely. And we did.

It has always amazed me how insights abound if we just pay attention. Felix loved airplanes and dreamed of flying one. He loved watching airplanes take off and land. He enjoyed seeing airplane fuselage frames on rail cars at the train yard. He believed that when planes are being built it meant that people had jobs.

Many a time, I still forget that Felix is no longer here and for a moment I think he is at work or somewhere or that I need to pick him up. Even as I pursue activities that are now truly my own, there is that momentary lapse of thinking that I am still part of a couple.

I have started the daunting task of redecorating the house which needed much repair. Felix resisted repainting our bedroom which was a manly hunter green because he was sure I would paint it a sissy pastel color. That is exactly what I did. The bedroom is now a very pastel sage green, very sissy and very happy.

I have also committed to a two year yoga study, something I have always wanted to do but did not have time for. One rigorous exercise is to study and learn from my dreams. That is how I remembered this dream and in remembering, found comfort in its meaning.

The process of grieving is a slow and sometimes tricky thing. I am still sad that he is not here. I also enjoy being alone and coming into my own, which, of course comes with great ambivalence precisely because I am not sad. I suppose it is why I had this permission dream. Looking back at the forty three years, I am sure we had hard times and fights and resentments but so generous is the heart that it filters the mind to only recall the good times. And so it is that I can remember and smile.

Gift Giving for All Seasons

With the holidays right around the corner, gift giving can be a difficult decision especially for the person who has just about everything. There is also the matter of sending gifts to loved ones far away. Gift baskets are a good way to go. Often you can just go online, shop different stores, purchase with the click of a mouse and you are done. No fighting crowds in the store, no gift wrapping, no lining up at the post office. You could also call your local grocer who can make up a gift basket with your specifications or price range.

Flower delivery is easily purchased online. Flowers and plants are delivered fresh and in a timely manner. There is always a variety of flower arrangements to choose from. Plants that bloom beyond the season and perennials such as orchids are also popular.

There is of course, the gift card. Adults can enjoy gift cards to restaurants, book stores, spa treatments, golf courses, or a show while young people can enjoy shopping for their own clothes. Prepaid credit cards sold by credit card companies offer a wider shopping choice.

Let us not forget gifts of love, crafts painstakingly made, a framed photograph, a phone call, donations to the food bank, or volunteering in the local soup kitchen. Better still, commit random acts of kindness, cheer someone up, smile often, offer a prayer and make gift giving an all year affair.

Manny Pacquiao Proves He Is the Best Yet Again

Photo: NJ.com

Like Filipinos around the world, on Saturday, November 14, 2009, our family gathered at my brother-in-law, Charlie's, house to watch the Pacquiao vs Cotto WBO welterweight fight. Charlie has a movie theater in his basement big enough to accommodate our clan. Like any Filipino gathering, there was a lot of food, talking and merriment.

Everyone looked to the fight with apprehensive anticipation. Can Manny beat a bigger opponent known for landing hard punches? Even the women of the family who all oppose the violence, blood and gore of boxing could not help themselves. Those who watched HBO 24/7 worried that Manny did not spend as much time training as he did running his political campaign to be a congressman, rehearsing with his band, and helping typhoon victims. Someone commented that Manny did not seem focused as the camera panned on him in the dressing room. Cotto, on the other hand seemed determined, focused and ready.

So we watched. The guys made technical comments, the women watched with one eye closed or at an angle so they could not see the hard punches. Everyone was shouting and screaming as Manny landed punches and cringed as he took one.

For many women, boxing is such a painful gladiator sport to watch even though we know that these athletes train hard to withstand grueling punishment. As a physician, I cringed as I imagined the concussion and whiplash that these fighters sustain and the long term outcome such as we see in retired football players and sadly in the great Muhammad Ali. We know too well, the dangers of a well placed punch and hope both fighters come out unharmed at the end of the fight. By the 10th round, the women in our family were begging for someone to stop the fight already especially as we empathized with the anguish on Melissa Cotto's face. We wished we weren't watching but could not stay away. We watched riveted, nonetheless, because Manny Pacquiao has that effect on Filipino men and women alike, because he is our own, because he stands for the Filipino dream to be acknowledged in the world, because he stands for the poor fatherless street urchin who did not give up on the dream and because as great as he has proven himself to be, he remains humble and generous. Our shouts of glee resonated with those of Filipinos the world over as the fight was stopped on the 12th round with a TKO. At the same time, Miguel Cotto's grace in defeat was not lost on everyone as he proved himself to be a classy fighter.

Our family will definitely gather again for the next Pacquiao fight. We are checking the Internet for Team Pacquiao tee shirts (like we're not hyped up yet.) The guys might be interested in Manny Pacquiao underwear to be made by Big Headed Boxers. We will follow Pacquiao's political career and check out his music CD's. Four million Filipinos make up one per cent of the American population. There will be a big market for all things Pacquiao in the US alone.

As the Filipino people revel in the victory, I think. If one man can unite a people even for just a few hours, think of the power of many one man and many one woman, all working in their own way to unite all people. Manny Pacquiao has proven that any dream can happen.

A Tribute to the Nation's Soldiers

It is quite fitting that Veteran's Day comes just before Thanksgiving Day. It gives us all pause to give special thanks to the people that made America what it is.

As a naturalized citizen born in World War II, I have great appreciation for America, the opportunities she presents to those who come through her portals, and the people who serve and protect. I watch with great sorrow when at the end of each program, KCPT News Hour presents in silent tribute, pictures of soldiers who have fallen. They were young men and women. They were someone's child, spouse, or parent. For that moment I feel that they were my own. I ask myself, "Am I worthy of them? What have I done today to have deserved their sacrifice?"

Veteran's Day is not just a holiday, a day off from work, or a chance to go shopping for bargains. It is not just one day but all the days to remember that somewhere there is a soldier who stands guards for my freedom because freedom is not free. Soldiers understand this. A soldier stands guard somewhere so I can go shopping, write what I want, speak my mind, pursue the American dream, and sleep soundly at night. I am ashamed when I complain of a bad day at the office while somewhere a soldier is carrying heavy military gear in over 100 degree heat while dodging bullets and land mines. Whatever stress I might experience is a minor inconvenience in comparison.

Soldiers go where they are ordered by the country's leaders who may not always have clarity of purpose. They waive political affiliation to follow their commander-in-chief. They are called to respond to national emergencies, guard our coasts, fly our air space and plumb the depth of our oceans to keep the nation safe. The men and women of the military may be seen in disaster areas at home and abroad, in peace keeping contingents or in war. Wherever they are, they are always in harms way, intentional or accidental. Young, vital men and women go to war. They do not always come home whole. They come home to a people who do not always remember but for this one day and do not always express their gratitude. Too many do not come home at all. Beyond the life lost and the disabled, there are families who serve alongside their soldier for a service they did not sign up for. To them, I am also grateful.

We are in a rapidly changing world where our priorities can often get confused and national policies even more so. We are also now citizens of a global community and not just one country. For whatever reason nations choose to go to war, we must never forget that war kills; lives are lost be they friend, foe, innocent or combatant. One life lost is one too many. A mother's sorrow for a lost child is the same the world over. Sadly, war will continue until man gives up hate and learns to love.

Today I make a promise to honor these men and women by living an honorable life. I promise to be the best that I can be and make my piece of the world better. I promise not to take my freedom and liberty for granted. Most importantly, I promise to love.

Felicisima Quiason Is 90 Years Old

Felicisima Quiason is 90 years old. The matriarch of the Quiason family in Kansas City, Missouri, grandchildren and friends from out of town came to celebrate the momentous occasion at the home of Drs. Stella Quiason and Charles Smith where Felicisima also resides. As she jokingly made a wish for a 100th birthday, we all made a sincere wish for the same. For Grandma, as we all call her, is the one guiding force in all our lives, children, grandchildren, great grandchildren, in laws and friends alike. We draw from her values, her strength and especially her wisdom.

At 90, Grandma reads the newspaper in its entirety. She keeps up with current events and the political scene. She has her own opinions about the world, chooses her own candidates carefully, and on election day, votes her conscience, unswayed by pressure from her children who usually vote for the opposing party.

Born and raised in Dinagat Island of Surigao in the Philippines, Grandma learned the value of hard work and perseverance. She became a school teacher and had a long career in teaching Math both in the Philippines and in Kansas City. It was a given that her children and later, her grandchildren, learn the four fundamentals of Arithmetic and compute in their heads without electronic aid. As she sacrificed to send her children to college, she also expected perseverance, determination and over achievement from her children. She stopped at nothing to make sure that all eight children became professionals. The story is told over and over about how her firstborn, Felix, (my husband) had been truant in dental school (dental school, mind you) and Grandma camped out at the University of the East Dental College to be sure that Felix stayed in class. What mother would have the courage and determination to do that? Felix did graduate from dentistry, went on to earn two postgraduate degrees and later spent the last years of his life teaching dentistry. Her children became dentists, physicians, nurse and accountants.

We laugh when she admonishes grandson Jacob for coming home with an A instead of his usual A+. And was she all smiles when Jacob surprised her by flying home from Stanford University just to be with her for that one day. Grandma sees talent as a gift that should not be squandered and encourages all to be the best that they can be in whatever path they choose.

Granddaughters quickly learn that their beaus must pass muster with Grandma who grades them on how respectful they are, how they value the granddaughter, their sense of responsibility and accountability and their family values. Grandma has not made an error in judgment yet as all the married granddaughters chose wonderful husbands and fathers.

Grandma taught her children the value of money, not so much as a means to luxury but as a way to give back to God and the less fortunate. So it is a family tradition on Christmas Day, along with the extravagant toys the great grandchildren get, a collection is taken up for less fortunate relatives in the Philippines. To this end, children and grandchildren all support their individual charitable causes by giving time, talent or treasure.

One of Grandma's many legacies is making the right choice. She is known for the term, "Paghunong" a Visayan word for "Watch out" or "Stop and think." She reminds everyone to stop and think and we have internalized this as the watch word for our choices.

Video by Vic Quiason

Felicisima Quiason is 90 years old. While few in her generation lay claim to this, it is not her best accomplishment. Her best achievement is in raising men and women of integrity, industry and compassion who in turn raise children with the same values. With the ripple effect, her circle of influence widens even more, love grows and touches this piece of the world.

Walking for Felix

Still nurturing our sadness over, my husband, Felix' passing last month, the extended family decided to walk the Missouri/ Kansas chapter of the National Kidney Foundation walk and raise money for the organization. Masterminded by Dr. Vic Quiason, (with his obsessive sense of organization) and his wife Cathy, Team Quiason quickly gained momentum and within three weeks had signed up over 20 walkers. The modest goal of $500.00 was quickly topped by friends of Rob Quiason who contributed $800.00 in two days.

Walk day was on Saturday. Friends from out of town came as did nieces and nephews who came home from college. Cathy provided Team Quiason tee shirts. It had been raining and chilly all week but surprise, surprise, Saturday morning was sunny, cool and nice. The walking trail circled a small lake behind Bass Pro Shop in Independence, Missouri. Fall was in full regalia with red, yellow, and brown foliage all throughout the path. I could see Felix' hand in making sure that the ambiance was just right for this walk. It was perfect although I'm sure he had many comments on how it could have been better.

The walk started at a snail's pace as hundreds of walkers got in line, prompting Vic to comment, "Even Felix could have walked this walk." No, he couldn't have because Felix had this thing about when he'd had enough he would just up and leave. He would have stayed where he was (insisting I stay with him as well) and waited for the rest to get back. Just like when he played golf, he always had nephew Blake on call to take over for him at the 4th or 5th hole or whichever hole he decided his golf game ended.

Felix' connection to us all still amazes me. The children and I reminisce on the camping trips where we got rained on because we forgot the tent poles, fishing trips, concerts he dragged the children to, taking Emilie then in grade school and barely able to do math to ham radio classes with him and all manner of activity that have suddenly become precious because in some small way, it also defined us. Nieces, nephews, sibling, in-laws, friends, all have memories of some Felix-ism which have become part of our family's collective memory.

We have big plans for next year's walk. Cathy wants to add Felix' picture to the Team Quiason tee shirts. We plan to top this year's pledge and sign up more walkers. My suggestion to adjourn to a casino buffet and then challenge the one arm bandits is gaining wide enthusiasm. (Not a Felix thing because he couldn't stand cigarette smoke.) It will be a bigger Felix event because walking for Felix is walking for ourselves.

Cruise Ships As Retirement Communities

Whether going for a long weekend or a month long travel, going on a cruise is the ultimate vacation. Tired after a long day's work, I long to be on a cruise where I can be waited on and pampered. No grocery shopping, no dishes to wash, clean sheets and linen daily, dine to my heart's content, walk to a show, read, or just watch the sea. Little wonder that some older adults think of cruise ships when checking out retirement communities. It has been tried and it can be done.

Bea Muller, 89 years old, opted to stay in the Queen Elizabeth 2 when her husband died. She sailed the seas on the QE2 from 2000 until 2008 when the QE2 sailed to Dubai to become a museum. She was then flown to the replacement ship, the QM2 where she is in residence. Clair Macbeth sailed back to back cruises on Cunard Lines for 14 years. Blogs and forums talk about the tempting promise of cruise ships as retirement communities and the advantages of cruise ships over assisted living apartments for the older adult. I think of travel in retirement but would also love to live where I can walk to every place. What is better than a cruise ship to do both.

In the October 2004 issue of the Journal of the American Geriatrics Society, Dr. Lee A. Lindquist and Dr.Robert M. Golub examined the needs and care of older adults in assisted living and compared them with the care provided in cruise ships. They found that the cost for both was about equal. The article goes on to suggest how cruise ships can modify services to accommodate the long term needs of older passengers. They suggest that cruising is a viable alternative for older adults who can no longer live independently but are still healthy enough not to require much medical and nursing intervention. The American Geriatrics Society estimates assisted living cost to be anywhere from a low $30,288 to upwards of $48,000 a year. The cost of living on a cruise ship varies according to type of accommodation, season and cruise line. In January 2010, Holland America will start a cruise to circumnavigate the world from Sidney, Australia to Vancouver, BC, Canada. An inside cabin for single occupancy starts at $11,476 for the 74 day voyage or $45,904.00 for back to back booking for 296 days. Quite tempting, I must say.

For the affluent, there is of course, The World Ship, a 12 deck floating city where one can buy a 2-3 bedroom condo (675-3,242 sq ft of luxury accommodations) for a mere 1.3 to 6.3M USD, not to mention the condo fees to pay the crew, fuel, insurance and whatever else it takes to float a ship. Owners can disembark and stay in any port and catch the ship in another city. Condos can be rented for 1,000.00 USD/night and up with a week long minimum. A second floating city is soon to launch.

Cruise living will attract a unique breed of older adults. Unless you own or rent a condo in The World Ship, you have to change rooms with each sailing. This and living in a 10 x 12 foot space make it hard to have a sense of home. You cannot drive over to a relative's home for a nice visit or watch the grandchildren play ball. Passengers change with each sailing making it difficult to keep lasting relationships.

On the other hand, this is the ultimate example of having few possessions, living uncluttered, living simply (but oh, so luxuriously,) of letting go and looking at life as a series of hello's and goodbyes.

Uncluttering: One Way of Preparing for Happy Retirement

Photo: theonion.com

Much as I love my work, age 70, the magic age I promised myself I would retire is just around the corner. As I contemplate happy retirement, one mantra comes to mind, unclutter. It is amazing how many things we hang on to, how much we accumulate and how many of them have any real meaning. I decided to spend this next year weeding out the clutter and focusing on what is truly important. Now, this takes real focus, commitment and brutal determination. People like me who were born during WWII are natural born hoarders. We just can't throw anything away.

The first things that went were the contents of my refrigerators and freezers. Note the plural. We have a refrigerator in the kitchen, in the garage, two beverage refrigerators, two dorm refrigerators from the kid's college days. And they were all full of stuff, like commercial size mayonnaise from the wholesale club, big tubs of margarine and large jars of olives, just because they were cheaper, never mind that they expired the next month. I am embarrassed to confess that I kept food until they turned green and only then could they be thrown out on trash day. It was not easy, but I was determined. Today, my freezers are empty. The cooler section only holds small jars of mayo, condiments, milk and today's food. I plan to get rid of all but one refrigerator. If I travel in retirement, there is nothing in the refrigerator to spoil. Having done that, I am confident I can tackle closets, shelves and yes, the garage so if I decide to look into retirement communities, I will be unencumbered.

Of course, refrigerators and closets are just metaphors of life, my life. I look into my mind and my heart and I examine the clutter. Caught in the busyness of contemporary living, I aspired to achieve goals I thought at the time were important as many were. In younger days, developing a career, financial stability were right in there with raising good healthy children. My husband I lucked out in having great children who raised themselves and us. It is a priceless blessing. Just like having a closetful of clothes and not having anything to wear, many a time, I failed to see the forest for the trees and to savor the moment because I was too busy getting ready for the next activity. There were some relationships I failed to nurture; the phone call I had been meaning to make; the letter I wanted to write, all when I could make time.

We are a culture of doers. We measure our self worth by what we have done. We act as if tomorrow is a certainty and not just a promise. We postpone the joy of being for the clutter of activities. We have great difficulty in being present where it counts, in savoring the moment as if it was the last, and in simply being. Like most I have to learn just to be. Seventy might not come but today I'm here. I choose to retire from the clutter of everyday life. I cherish good memories. I count my blessings. I promise to rekindle friendships and relationships. Today I empty my mind and heart of clutter so I can be open to just be.

Baby Boomers Postpone Retirement

Kathleen Casey-Kirshling applied for social security retirement benefits online on October 15, 2007. This signal event marked the beginning of baby boomer retirement, Casey-Kirshling having the distinction of being the first baby boomer eligible for retirement. She was born on the first second of January 1,1946. Many baby boomers followed suit in anticipation of happy retirement. The US government estimates a total of 8 million retirees over the next 20 years or an average of 10,000/ day, the so called "silver tsunami."

Little did these retirees know that a year later, the economy would collapse, their 401K and other nest egg investments would be demolished, and plans for travel in retirement would have to be scaled down if not postponed. Indeed, many baby boomers, men and women born between 1946 and 1964, who have applied for retirement benefits are either staying in or returning to the work force. There are varied reasons for this.

• On a positive note, many older adults are healthier and more energetic. While they enjoy happy retirement, they also feel free to pursue other interests, go back to school, this time for fun, or pursue other careers.
• There are positions in industry and other employment that cannot be filled by younger workers who are either lacking in training or have not quite matured with experience. Some skilled craftsmanship such as chimney sweep, shoe repair, musical instrument making and repair do not attract enough young people that the skills are in danger of extinction. For these, older workers may have to keep filling in.
• There is of course, the loss of retirement nest egg which has forced many potential retirees continue working it can be built back up. Some with plans to move into retirement communities must opt to remain in their present homes. Some lost their homes in the mortgage crisis.

Employment for baby boomers can take on different forms. Some opt to keep working full-time for a few more years. Others choose to work part-time and leave room for recreation. Part-time can take on different forms as well. Some might choose to work a couple of full days a week or half days several days a week and still have time for recreation like golf, tennis, gardening or charitable work and, of course, the spoiling of grandchildren. Some work a few weeks or months out of the year leaving options for travel in retirement.

Whatever the reason, it is clear that more older adults are staying in the work force and that can only be a good thing for the country.

A Letter to Family and friends

It has been four weeks since my husband Felix died and were it not for your love and support, the enormity of my loss, our loss, would have been too much to bear. While I will try to thank you all personally, I am writing this so as not to dilute the sincerity of my gratitude.

I would have said Felix passed away but he didn't pass away, he died. Death is so final. I still cannot fathom how someone I slept and awakened with for 43 years was here one moment and gone the next. Of course, he had to leave in his typical style, just up and go when he felt like it. No "Sorry, honey, I have to go now. I'll wait for you on the other side." It's just a Felix thing.

For all the years I spent my waking moments away from work, looking after him, it is still disorienting that I have so much time on my hands. My house is quiet. The TV's are not on at the same time as the radios. He is not here to laugh at slapstick comedy, give opinionated comments or watch the food channel, Anthony Bourdain and Judge Judy. He is not here to meddle in all our affairs or to buy us stuff because he liked them, never mind that we didn't. Nonetheless, I sense his hand in things like how his last services went so smoothly in a Felix kind of way, how effortless his estate is getting settled or how somehow I feel protected. Closing out his credit card accounts has been a painful endeavor. I could only do one, one week at a time. It is like closing a part of a life. When I get to the last one, where will he be? But would you know, the one credit card with a large balance is the credit card he forgot to stop the credit insurance after the trial period? The company is refunding my payment. Serendipity? While his health kept him from taking care of me in his lifetime, I like to think he is looking after me now.

Felix touched so many lives. You all know how undeterred he was by infirmity and disability. He kept teaching, mentoring, spoiling family, making people laugh, scolding, and mostly loving. He loved his children and grandchildren and so he kept going until he could no longer. And through it all were all the people who worked with him, helped him, humored him and took care of him to make his last years memorable. There are so many people who loved him and by, extension, loved me. There are those of you who love my children and my family and who were there for us. There are my family at home and work, near and far. There are my friends. There are my children and grandchildren, who, despite their own pain, call to make sure I am all right. And there are the random acts of kindness by kind people. Felix and I have been so blessed. To you all, I am forever grateful.

Please know with certainty that I will be fine. I am not depressed. I am just sad. I weep in the shower, when I'm driving or at odd times and places. But I sleep well and eat well. I walk and exercise. I am competent at work. Felix and I were as different as night and day. While he thrived at being around people, I value my solitude. I choose to be alone and alone does not mean lonely. How can I be with all of you out there. I choose, for now, not to be comforted. I want to hold on to my grief just a little bit longer for it feels he is just slipping away from me much too quickly.

Y.E.Yang

I don't play golf but I watch it on TV and Korean golfer Y.E. Yang's Rocky-esque win of the 91st PGA championship was not lost on me.

Ranked 110th in the world and considered a 70 to 200 to 1 long shot, 37 year old Y.E. Yang did not play golf until age 19, did not enter serious competition until he completed his Korean military service four years later. He won major tournaments in Korea and Asia but dreamed of entering a major American tournament. He came to the US to enter a PGA golf qualifying school and came into the American golf scene when he won his first PGA tournament in the Honda Classic in March 2009.

I admire people who excel in their chosen vocation and watch them perform their job well. Y.E. Yang certainly excelled in his calm unassuming way. His goal was to play his best game and that he did and more. He is now a symbol for Asians and Koreans in particular that anyone can excel in a sport that was dominated by westerners.

Tiger Woods is Tiger Woods and we will always love him for the symbol of dedication, perseverance and excellence that he typifies. We will love him even more as he showed that he, too, can have a bad day at the office. But on Sunday, August 16,2009, at Hazeltine National Golf Club, the day belonged to Y.E. Yang who reminded us that when we work unceasingly to follow our dream, yes, we can.

"At first our dreams seem impossible, then they become improbable. And when we summon our will, our dreams become inevitable." Christopher Reeve

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More Boyle Watching

As you can tell, I am unashamedly a Susan Boyle fan. I watched her on You Tube, with Meredith Viera on the Today Show and now here is the the Harper's Bazaar make over.

Harper Bazaar's editors talk about her twinkling eyes and the cackle of a laugh that is uniquely Susan Boyle. And to illustrate that everyone is beautiful, here are more photos by Hugh Stewart in Harper's Bazaar.

Bren Bataclan Brings Smiles and Hope

Six years ago, Bren Bataclan noted with dismay that fewer people in his home city of Boston were smiling. He decided to do something about it and in 2003, launched the Smile Boston Project . It has been a rolling stone gathering enormous following since.


Philippine born artist, Bataclan, began to leave free small acrylic cartoon paintings in public places like malls, park benches and anywhere people might congregate. In exchange, he asked the finder to commit random acts of smiling. And smile, finders did.


In his website, Bataclan writes that his goals were to: "Bring art to people who typically do not visit art galleries and museums, give paintings to folks who may not be able to afford original artwork, and see smiles around the globe. "

The 2003 Smile Boston Project was a huge success. People were smiling. This was followed by Smile Chicago, Smile Las Vegas and Smile projects all over the US. Bataclan's smile critters could be found in public places throughout the country and around the globe. Smile paintings have been found everywhere from Alaska to Hawaii, from the ice caps of Antartica to the deserts of Saudi Arabia, from Europe to Asia and round and round it has been going bringing hope and the promise of a smiling world.

When the economy bottomed last year, Bataclan changed the note in his 2009 paintings to say, "Eveything will be allright." Many art finders/keepers have been so moved to hope and have left feedback on how it changed their outlook.

Bataclan completed his art degree at the University of California, Los Angeles in 1993 and Masters in Computer Animation at Ohio State University a few years later. Among other activities, he has worked as animator and designer for such movies as Free Willy and Last Action Hero and taught computer animation and graphic design at the University of Massachussets.

The success of the smile project has brought Bataclan into the limelight. He has been the subject of a documentary by David Tames. The book, The Smile Project, has been published by Gingko Press. Bataclan has been featured in TV news such as the June 22,2009 segment on CBS Evening News.

Bren Bataclan is a reminder of the power of one.

All of you out there, practice those smile muscles and spread the word. A Bataclan smile critter may be lurking in a bench near you.

If you're not lucky enough to find one, purchase a smiley critter painting from the artist's website: http://www.brenbataclan.com/.

Mrs. Palfrey at the Claremont: A Movie Review

But for Netflix, I would have missed Mrs. Palfrey at the Claremont, an endearing movie released in 2005 starring Dame Joan Plowright as Mrs. Palfrey and Rupert Friend as Ludovic Meyer. This movie squeaked silently by, a pity as it is quite a feel good movie.

Recently widowed and hoping for an independent life, Mrs. Palfrey leaves her home and daughter in Scotland to live at the Claremont in London, a hotel romanticized in a travel brochure. She also hopes to reconnect with her grandson who works in London. Meeting the relic of a doorman should have been the first clue that the Claremont was not as publicized. The suite turns out to be a tiny room with a window looking out to a wall and the shared bathroom runs out of hot water. The Claremont is, in fact, a hotel where people stay in the twilight of their lives as they wait for the inevitable. The dining room is the hub of the regular denizens where Mrs. Palfrey comes overdressed for dinner. Mrs. Arbuthnot (Anna Massey), self elected group leader, provides her with the low down on the other diners. As time passes, Mrs. Palfrey's grandson does not return calls, write a letter, let alone come to visit, making the other residents think he is a fiction of the imagination.

On the way home from the library where she had picked up a copy of Lady Chatterly's Lover for Mrs. Arbuthnot, Mrs. Palfrey falls. A young man, Ludovic, comes to her rescue, invites her into his apartment and tends to her scrapes. A friendship develops and when Mrs. Palfrey invites Ludovic to dinner, the hotel residents mistake him for the grandson, a charade they chose to perpetuate. Ludovic earns a living as a street musician while pursuing his dream of being a writer. As the friendship grows, they come to terms with their isolation, having few friendships with people their own age. They help each other find the goodness in their lives, Mrs. Palfrey helping Ludovic find love and move on to his future while Ludovic helps her see the value of her past.

The movie is adapted to the screen by Ruth Sacks, herself in her 80's from the last novel by Elizabeth Taylor (the novelist, not the actress) published in 1971. The book, Mrs. Palfrey at the Claremont, itself, is worth reading and depicts the changes as one ages as in this passage:

“The morning was to be filled in quite nicely, but the afternoon and evening made a long stretch. I must not wish my life away, she told herself; but she knew that, as she got older, she looked at her watch more often, and that it was always earlier than she had thought it would be. When she was young, it had always been later.”

Dan Ireland directs a wonderful cast of older actors and young Rupert Friend. Friend, dashing and handsome, is an actor to watch. (He is in the upcoming movie, Cherie, with Michelle Pfeiffer.) Friend makes us believe that friendship between a young man and an elderly woman is a most natural thing that happens everyday. There is wonderful chemistry between Plowright and Friend as pretend grandmother and grandson and between aging actors playing the residents of the Claremont.

Go rent or buy the DVD. There is no violence, no foul language and no nudity. It is just a great escape movie that warms the soul.