Cada año tengo dos tradiciones para esta maravillosa época del año: montar un Nacimiento que mi hermana Pimpollito hizo y me regaló; Es muy pequeño y lo hizo hace muchas lunas. Este año, uno de mis asistentes lo instaló e incluyó un simple nacimiento de madera que mi madre me dio hace un par de años.
La segunda tradición es ver “It’s a Wonderful Live”, lo que me hace darme cuenta de lo preciosa que la vida es… y siempre me hace llorar. Como canta José Feliciano,les deseo a ustedes y a sus seres queridos:
…Feliz Navidad, Próspero año y felicidad.
…I wanna wish you a merry Christmas, from the bottom of my heart…
Just as I have pointed out in years past, most Spaniards and Latin Americans won’t wish you a “Happy New Year” but a prosperous one. I guess if you have a prosperous year, it will be a happy one. After the hardships of 2020, we all deserve a prosperous 2021.
Very few days of 2020 have been great; And they have all involved seeing family and friends, specially my mother and sister, and my children (even if it was on video) and their respective boyfriend/girlfriend. Alas, I won’t be physically seeing them for the holidays because of the coronavirus, like a majority of people around the world. I’ll be happy with group video calls, hopefully including one with my college buddies.
This year has not been kind to me: It all began in May when my Mom (who started living with me since 2019) had her flight to the US cancelled, from a visit to her native Spain, because of covid-19 restrictions implemented one week before her return flight. Then on 9/11 my divorce from Mik became final after 37 years of wonderful marriage, and alas 2½ years of legal separation. Unfortunately, I lost a step-brother in my native Venezuela (QEPD Pablo Jose) and a close friend who had retired to his dream home in Dana Point (RIP Vince) to covid-19. I also lost my dear mother-in-law (RIP Faye) who thankfully passed away peacefully in her sleep.
But even though 2020 was an awful year, I also had some great days: Every Monday morning I have a video call with my Mom in Spain and my Sister in Venezuela. I had lunch with my Daughter and her boyfriend on Thanksgiving, and then had an unexpected video call with my Son (who lives in NorCal) at the end of the day. I was also introduced to his beautiful girlfriend. Just last week, I had a Zoom call with some of my high-school classmates; We set up a WhatsApp group and have been posting all kind of messages. Even though I keep in regular touch with three of them, I had not been in contact with most of these people in 45 years —As opposed to the US, in Venezuelan high schools, you stay together with about 40 people in your ‘section’ and the professors come to your classroom; You develop life-long friendships with most of these people—
Even though I conduct most of my contract work via emails and phone calls, I have a cherished ‘drop-by’ routine when I visit the Irvine office of Spireon in the middle of the week, seeing everyone shortly, and meeting with the engineering and managerial staff for Intellectual Property matters. So the WFH reality has not really impacted me but I realize what a hermit I’ve become. I live by a wonderful Town Center, and I used to run errands or just be outside almost daily, on my wheelchair (I’m handicapped with restricted use of my hands and arms because of a skiing misfortune). Now I just go outside once or twice a week, when is completely necessary and almost always acompanied by one of my caregivers. For work, I also conduct a quarterly IP Committee meeting and had not been able to schedule them; Just a few days ago I was able to conduct a productive Zoom meeting and get IP matters back on-track for the year.
When my old company PROCON (PROtect & CONnect) got acquired by a VC several years ago, my old friend and CEO was ousted and he formed a new company (Advantage Automotive Analítics) that currently competes in some markets with Spireon. His new company is also in Irvine and I would visit its offices every couple of months since I have many wonderful friendships with ex-coworkers, who ended up working at AAA. My old boss is also responsible for my new career in IP from being a “glorified hacker” to CIO (Career Is Over!) I miss visiting AAA and even though one could qualify these visits as akward, that’s another routine that I enjoyed and was not able to do in 2020.
I currently live by myself and none of my lifestyle would be possible, without my wonderful caregivers. I usually have daily help from 9am to 3pm but what gives me great flexibility, is to rely on a night caregiver that transfers me to bed and helps me with my end-of-day routines. She is outstanding as are all my other caregivers!
When I compare my situation with other people who are even able-bodied, I realize how grateful I should be. Even though 2020 has been an awful year, I am thankful for my health, my family and friends, my caregivers and my co-workers; And for everything I have been able to accomplish this year.
I’m becoming an old man; I find that nothing puts the day in perspective than wake-up routines. One of the first routines I do is to check with my mom to see what phone wallpaper she’s chosen for the day. When I first suffered my skiing injury, I was in Craig hospital for four months and she would call me daily to inquire on my well-being with an invariable: “How are you feeling today?” At the time, she lived by herself in Solares, a little town in northern Spain close to where she was born, and I would also worry about her well-being. I decided that instead of asking the same question every day, we could start our chats by playing a little game: I installed two apps on her phone that changes her wallpaper to whatever she chooses: An astronomy picture or a scenic/nature one; APOD got real cute today and decided to celebrate Halloween by publishing these pictures today.
Courtesy of https://www.getdailyart.com
Another one of my wake-up routines (and the last one before checking my daily schedule) is to check out DailyArt which chose “Memento Mori Mosaic from Pompeii” to celebrate Halloween and I found it very appropriate:
“This Roman mosaic from one of the houses in Pompeii (it was placed in the triclinium, which was a formal dining room) represents the Wheel of Fortune which, as it turns, can make the rich (symbolized by the purple cloth on the left) poor and the poor (symbolized by the goatskin at right) rich; in effect both states are very precarious, with death never far and life hanging by a thread: when it breaks, the soul (symbolized by the butterfly) flies off. And thus are all made equal! The theme, like the skeletons on the silverware in the treasure of Boscoreale, was intended to remind diners of the fleeting nature of earthly fortunes.”
If you have previously visited my blog, you know I wrote with great passion about the original 9/11 in A Change of Seasons.
This year, I feel like a personally devastating 9/11 is happening to me. You see, on Labor Day I met with my paralegal; she was notarizing my signature to end my marriage of 37 years! I am a romantic at heart, and even though she could file the final divorce papers that day, I asked her to wait until 9/11 so I could say that I was legally married to beautiful Mik for 37 years —Mik: nickname for my ex-wife Sally, that I gave her after she corrected me; her maiden last name McFerren is pronounced MikFerren and not MacFerren— Even though we were legally married at the Santa Ana courthouse on 8/12/1983, very few people knew about it, we consider our actual wedding day to be 9/10/1983, when we were married in the suburbs of Akron, Ohio, at a little church, where Mik’s parents, family and friends worshipped. We actually did not celebrate with our California friends until we returned from Ohio —We hosted a great party cruising on the Kon Tikiin beautiful Newport Beach harbor—
The last two and a half years have been awful, but we had 35 years of wonderful marriage. So why are we divorcing? It seems I was getting too mean! Mik would disregard my skiingmisfortune handicap and make me late for all my personal and business appointments; a trait that does not define me! As a matter of fact, people know that if I make an appointment with them and they’re five minutes late and I don’t hear from them, I simply leave. I resolved that issue by telling Mik that my appointments were ½ hour earlier. But I am the male of the species and I have to take responsibility in the matter: We mismanaged a lot of money, and Mik decided that the best solution for my immediate future, was to retire me to a nursing home; Of course, after the wonderful life that I had been leading, I didn’t like this proposition at all. That and some financial decisions which I didn’t agree with, turned me mean again and she filed for a legal separation after avoiding marriage counseling that I had proposed. Because of my condition, I might end up in a nursing home after all, but at the age of 55, I wasn’t ready for it. I guess we have irreconcilable differences.
But not all should be considered doom and gloom; We have two (adult) children: A handsome young man and a beautiful girl (I know she is now a young lady, but she will always be my beautiful girl) . And I was able to provide a great life for them and Mik. They grew up in heavenly SoCal and I have always been able to provide great homes for them. Our children are not saddled with student loans and they attended well-known universities, including studies abroad. I was lucky to be able to provide financial resources, most of the time, and Mik worked as she pleased or not at all whenever possible. We were also lucky to have exotic vacations in my native Venezuela, Spain and Hawaii as well as the beautiful US southwest. All my material accomplishments were always accompanied with immeasurable love.
No matter what the future holds, I will keep telling my doctors and therapists, our families and friends and most people I meet that I wouldn’t be alive without the love and attention that Mik provided me during my recuperation from my skiing misfortune. I have always been a pretty active guy challenging myself in marathonic sports events and it could not have been easy to see your spouse almost die and with many tubes coming out of his body while in the ICU and reduced to a severely phisically handicapped person thereafter.
So what will I do know? Will I reinvent myself? 2020 has taught us not to make detailed plans because they can be unexpectedly derailed. One thing that I know for certain is that where two magnificent towers stood side by side, now a gleaming skyscraper has been proudly built. Alas, it stands by itself!
One turkey was a young hen
She was beautiful and tender
One could never feel in a pen
Her busy life didn’t make her surrender
It’s happened for the last couple of years
The other one was a handsome young Tom
He was smart, tall and somewhat skinny
He was the only known bird who won
An athletic scholarship for cross-country
But Sasha and Daniel were awesome
The third turkey was old and tough
He was going to give you indigestion
His skiing misfortune was simply bad luck
He enjoys receiving and giving affection
September is a great month for sports. Baseball’s pennant races are heating up and the excitement of the World Series is just around the corner. The NFL and College Football previews are mind-boggling and a great distraction for any arm-chaired quarterback getting a leg up on his buddies.
The beaches of Southern California are at their best. The throngs of tourists are gone. The waters of the Pacific are still warm and somehow seem cleaner and more inviting. It is a great time to perfect bodysurfing tucks or to just horse around on the boogie boards with the kids. If I am lucky, I may even squeeze in an epic ocean kayak paddle with my water-dog friend before the winter storms exile me to the snow of the mountains
When September rolls around, there really is only one sport that consumes me: Coaching my kids’ Soccer teams. There is the challenge of learning 25-odd names and faces and the quirks that go with them. There is the sense of accomplishment of organizing reluctant parents into a circle of friends who turn into rabid Soccer fans every Saturday. There is the joy of meeting previous team members and friends on the fields. There is the pride of winning games and the satisfaction of turning losses into lessons of sportsmanship. September means coaching Youth Soccer and it is always a magical time of the year.
I can sense the changing of the seasons. My Sunday mountain biking rides are getting more pleasurable. The unbearable heat of the summer is almost gone. Cool, overcast mornings are soon replaced with glorious sunny afternoons that intensify the great feeling of being in the outdoors. This September there is another change in the wind. It is not crisp like the autumn air. It is not radiant like the equinoctial Sun. But it is more palpable. It is easy to feel it in the horrific pictures replayed on the TV, in the disturbing headlines of the newspapers and in the strident chatter of the radio.
Something is changing. It is history itself. Like watching the images of the fall of the Berlin Wall or the failed anti-Gorbachev putsch that signaled the disintegration of the Soviet Union, I find myself hypnotized, with the clear perception that an important historical event is unfolding right before my eyes.
I cannot help but share in the collective feelings of outrage, apprehension, reflection and determination resulting from the events leading to the now christened “First War of the Century.” Pundits and talking-heads seem to have all the solutions and provide us with multiple scenarios of how the future might unfold. But nobody knows; History is fraught with remarkable, unforeseen events. I do know one thing: Next September will be a great month for sports!
Originally written 18 years ago, before I discovered BlogSpot and WordPress.
In case you don’t know, the Kentucky Derby is also known as “The Run for the Roses.” Why? You see, the winning horse gets draped with this beautiful rose garland. And what a crazy horserace this year’s Run for the Roses was!
First of all, the track was a muddy mess, making the outcome more uncertain; The Triple Crown races —The Kentucky Derby, the Preakness Stakes and the Belmont Stakes— are for young horses only (3-year-olds, teenagers really), and most of them don’t have experience with muddy tracks. Second, it was won by a DQ; In all of 145 years of Kentucky Derby history this has never happened. If you had bet on Country House to Win you would have collected a cool +$132 on your $2 ticket (one usually gets cents on this kind of bets). Most people think Maximum Security was robbed (myself included). It was so crazy even the Donald got involved.
I have a longtime tradition to watch the Triple Crown races (and making personal bets) with Mik —That’s my nickname for my beautiful wife; it goes back to when we were dating: I learned her maiden name and mispronounced it as MacFerren; she promptly corrected me to MicFerren— We watched the race at one of our all-time favorite places, Stadium Brew while sipping mint juleps. I asked the pretty bartender to dial a couple of sports screens to the race, so we could watch it. The manager went one step further and turned all the TV’s to the Kentucky Derby, with sound, which is not usually done!
By the way, I came across this video while watching sports documentaries, during my early-day warm-ups with one of my caregivers; Even if you don’t like horse racing, it’s well worth watching for its amazing story.
