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I'll Never Walk This Way Again

Author's Blog — Wed, 16 May 2012 13:32:25 GMT

I just made the last drive to high school with Cici this morning. She will take her last two final exams this morning and Ping will pick her up from school for the last time. Should we drive around for a while and savor the moment before you get out of the car and go into the school? I asked Cici. Papa, she scolded, I am so ready to graduate from high school. I just want to take the exams and be done with it.

But as I drove the familiar route away from the school toward the office it was a trip down memory lane. It took me through some of the same streets that I was driving on 30 years ago, and I noticed the changes.

What was a thriving Kentucky Fried Chicken on that corner 30 years ago became a KFC for a while after the name change, but today it is a bright yellow building in which a pawn shop is located with only Spanish words written on its signs. Only the shape of the building would cause a sharp observer to wonder why it looks like a KFC location.

Next to this building, and also painted a bright yellow, is another building that has a shape that should cause someone to wonder whether it was once a Pizza Hut, and the answer would be yes. It also has only Spanish words written on it.

Behind these buildings is a large Mexican meat market, in a building that once contained a Western grocery store, and then a K-Mart for a while, before becoming a Dollar Store and now surrendering to the neighborhood to provide what the residents want to buy.

I made a last stop in the Starbucks that I used to frequent daily, only to discover that not a single person who used to work there was there this morning, and it was only a couple of weeks ago that I was thinking about the longevity of the employees at that location. Haven't they graduated from college yet? I wondered. Maybe they have now, or maybe they are taking final exams. Whatever the reason, they were all gone today.

With Cici graduating from the high school, and with us moving our law firm away from that part of town, I have no reason to drive through that part of town again. The road to Texas A&M doesn't go in that direction from our home, so in all likelihood I have seen the last of that part of town. It was good while it lasted.

The Next Chapter

Author's Blog — Sat, 12 May 2012 01:11:39 GMT

Well, Ping and I are getting a taste of what it will be like with our baby girl gone to college. Cici is out shopping and having fun with one of her friends, so Ping and I set up in the living room at our tea cart. It is such a beautiful cart - made rosewood - even the two wheels. Nearby on her semi-circular rosewood desk she has the laptop that has all the beautiful music that we listed to more than five years ago now on my first trip to China.

One of the songs is the one that we listened to for 10 hours the day we had our wedding photos taken in Guangzhou. I think it is called I Will Marry You Today. I asked her to put it on a loop just like it was the day we were at the wedding photo studio. She brought me a cup of Tai Ping Hou Kui, which has become my favorite green tea. There is a bay window next to the tea cart and I can see through the shutters where Cici's car is parked outside her bedroom window.

It is a peaceful environment as dusk draws near. Parsley, Sage, Rosemary &Thyme is playing now and Ping is humming along. I suspect that memories are flooding through her mind as they are mine. And we have great memories, and now a chance to create more as Cici prepares to start her college career.

The tea set that Ping and I bought in Guangzhou is sitting proudly on our tea cart. I raised one of the leaves that we usually keep dropped on the tea cart and I put a towel on the cart to protect the surface where I put my laptop.

As I look around the room it amazes me to see the transformation from the way it was before Ping arrived. She has two very large vases with tall peach blossom stems and flowers standing in them. We have Chinese rosewood furniture everywhere, a cabernet red carpet but with a large area rug on half the floor in the room. It has a beautiful pattern with a cream colored background so that it stands out on the carpet.

Our second betta fish died recently and Ping gave him a nice burial outside our bedroom window. His empty bowl is waiting on the coffee table for his replacement, but Ping won't get a new fish until she returns from China. She wants me to have plenty of time to focus on her plants and flowers while she is not here to take care of them.

There is a storm moving in as we sit here listening to the music. Rumbles of thunder are growing closer. Ping is kibitzing over my shoulder. I thought you were busy working, she said, but I found that you are playing. Be sure to tell them that I brought a cup of tea to you, and that I had to go make more tea for you, she told me.

Casablanca played while I was writing, and now Kenny Rogers is singing Lady. Cici and her friend just pulled up outside the bay window, so they arrived home just ahead of the storm. Her friend is spending the night, so she won't have to go back out into the weather. Ping, the ever watchful Mom, already has the front door open to welcome them inside. In fact, Ping has walked all the way out to the car to help the girls bring things inside our home.

And what song could be more appropriate at this moment? How about Andy Williams singing Love Story - that is what has just happened.

But now the girls are begging me to take them to the store before he storm hits, so off I go.

Almost There

Author's Blog — Thu, 10 May 2012 16:20:45 GMT

I was busy with work yesterday so Ping drove to school in the early evening and took Cici to get a bite to eat before her last concert of the year - her last concert in high school. Papa is too busy to come to your concert, Ping told Cici. Cici sent several text messages to me asking if I could come to watch her perform. I am so busy, I told her, but I worked even faster. I missed eating dinner with the girls, but I was on time for the concert and surprised both of them.

Cici saw me first when I arrived and she got a big smile on her face. Somehow she managed to send a text message to me after I arrived, even though she and the band were doing their final warm ups. I am glad I was there because she was the little star of the evening. She was surprised with the John Philip Sousa Music Award, which according to the certificate is the most prestigious award in music for high school students.

Then Cici stood on the stage with the other seniors who are in the band and they showed her baby picture and pictures at other times in her life, ending with her graduation photo. She seemed to thoroughly enjoy herself, and at the end of the program her band director talked with her about how he wants to help her continue with her music in college. I will make the contacts at your college, but be sure to follow up on them, he encouraged her.

There were a lot of goodbyes to say when the program ended, because many of the people there will not be at graduation, so this was the last time we would see them. After everything was over Cici asked me if we could give one of her friends a ride to her house. We did that, and as Cici and I drove home she told me that two of her classmates will come to our house this weekend to study for final exams with her.

This is not that shy little girl who started high school four years ago, I thought. She is very much a part of what is happening at the school. Everyone knows her, and I expect she will have good memories overall about her high school experience, and all those long sleepless nights of home work will fade away in her mind.

The Inside Scoop

Author's Blog — Fri, 04 May 2012 13:22:44 GMT

When you watch someone grow as a person, but you are with them day and night, you miss a few things. You might even miss a lot. Last evening at the Honors Banquet I got a fresh new look at how much Cici has changed since she arrived in America.

In the beginning, there was little interaction between Cici and her classmates. They have no patience for me, Cici replied when I asked her about it, because my English is not good. Over the years I watched things change and noticed that Cici had friends among her classmates. At first, it was mostly the other Asian girls - the students from Thailand and Vietnam - but just other girls.

Last night when we arrived Cici was greeted excitedly by a beautiful and vivacious black cheerleader who is one of the most popular kids in the school. She and several other girls have worked on Cici for a couple of weeks about going to the prom with them, but Cici went last year and has no interest in going again. The young cheerleader came and sat beside Cici while we were all eating. Angela is amazing, she told Ping and me. She is just an amazing person. Cici was a little embarrassed but still managed to smile and say thank you to her friend.

When we were driving home after the banquet Cici said her friend told her why her group of friends had been trying so hard to get her to go to the prom with them. Cici had been chosen to be recognized for two things at the prom, based on the vote of the students: best hair, and smartest student.

But back to the banquet.

The National Honor Society opened the honors ceremonies with the induction of new members. Five of the current members had been chosen to perform the ceremony. Ping and I were surprised to see our daughter take the stage, pull the microphone into position, and confidently and perfectly read the opening portion of the ceremony to educate everyone in attendance about the purpose of the National Honor Society. She was followed in turn by four other members, each of whom joined Cici at the side of the stage when they finished reading their parts.

Cici was the only girl in the bunch, and what surprised me the most was the ease with which she was talking and laughing with the other members of the National Honor Society.

After the new members were inducted, Cici and the other graduating members were called to the stage one at a time to receive their graduation stole to wear on their gown at graduation, to signify their membership in the National Honor Society. People politely clapped as each student took the stage to be recognized, but when Angela Solomon was announced there was not only applause, but some loud cheering from some of the students accompanied the applause.

Angela Solomon was called back to the stage repeatedly during the evening - she received the academic award in math; she received the activity award in instrumental music; she received her Honor Cord to recognize her magna cum laude status; she received the President's Award for Educational Excellence; she received her Star Honor Roll award; and she was recognized as class Salutatorian.

Through it all, Cici carried herself with poise. She posed and smiled for the camera as each award was presented to her. It was quite clear that she had progressed from a nobody freshman from a foreign country to someone who is quite popular and well known by her classmates. She has earned their respect and their friendship and will go off to college with confidence that she can fit in and do well in a college environment.

But the sad thing is that for the first time ever, Cici drove herself to school this morning. All I could do was carry her backpack to her car and watch as she drove away, all grown up and independent.

The End Game

Author's Blog — Sun, 29 Apr 2012 12:47:55 GMT

This week we will attend the honors banquet with Cici. She and other students will receive their hard earned awards and recognitions. They had a ceremony last week with all the students in the school in attendance. Students were called to the front for each award or recognition but didn't actually receive them at that ceremony. It was just for recognition in front of their classmates.

How did it go? I asked Cici. It was okay, she said, giving her usual response to a question about school. How was your day today? I often ask her, knowing already that her response will be: It was okay. So how many awards did you receive? I asked, digging a little deeper. I don't remember, she replied, because there were too many. Every time I would sit down they kept calling me back to the front for another award.

Sounds like Ping and I will have an enjoyable evening at the banquet. We need to enjoy this because the work begins again in August, and the next end game is four years away.

Dying to Vote

Author's Blog — Thu, 26 Apr 2012 12:45:57 GMT

After months of waiting until the fighting was over, Cici received her first voter registration card yesterday. The fighting was in the courts as different ethnic groups jockeyed over how the lines would be redrawn for voting districts. The fighting delayed the Texas primary from March until the end of May.

I am going to give you something that you got for free, but something that people all over the world are dying in the streets to try to obtain, I told Cici when I handed her card to her. Think about it, I said. Think about all the pictures you have seen on the internet with people protesting in the streets, trying to overthrow their government because they have no right to vote and no right to decide who will lead their country.

When will we vote the first time? Cici asked. On May 29, and you will be here for that vote. We will go together and I will show you how to vote. Then in November, when the Presidential election happens, you will already be an experienced voter.

With only a brief exposure to American history in high school, Cici still has a lot to learn. We already chose her history classes for the first two semesters of college: American History before 1877, and American History after 1877. By the time she completes these college courses, her understanding of America will be better than that of most people who were born in the United States.

Hidden Talent

Author's Blog — Fri, 20 Apr 2012 17:10:20 GMT

Last night I watched a movie on my Mac. The actors were not speaking, but music appropriate for the scenes played and changed as necessary to emphasize what the actors were portraying. It was a great little five minute production that Cici put together with a few of her classmates.

Well, they did the acting and Cici put the movie together. Then she did the scene creation, filming, and editing, and then created transition pages with words to guide the viewer (things like ... "7 years later," to show the passage of time), after which she selected and loaded to music, and basically made the movie happen.

I remember that Cici was in her room working hard on this movie because I heard her choosing music and I went to see what she was doing. She said that she was having to do all the work on a school project because her classmates were doing none of the work and the project was due.

I was quite impressed. It was a cleverly done little movie, and Cici said with modesty characteristic of me if you get my meaning, that it was the best movie that was done for that class. Many of the students saw our movie and used the same ideas for their movies, but none of them were as good as our movie, she concluded.

She made my Mac do things I didn't know it could do. I have learned so much from her. She has had me editing some of her work on her ipad as she patiently teaches me how to use it. It reminds me in some ways of working in an Excel spreadsheet, except I can use my fingers on the screen to do all the work.

Lessons

Author's Blog — Wed, 18 Apr 2012 17:20:21 GMT

For nearly four years I have been questioning Ping and Cici about things as we walk through our neighborhood. It has been a way of adding to their vocabulary in ways that they might not otherwise encounter the things we talk about.

This, I said to Cici last night as we walked, is from this sweet gum tree. I stopped and picked up the large burr looking object that is a tell-tale sign of a sweet gum tree. I remember reading about something like this, Cici said. Don't they stick to the hair of animals sometimes? Possibly, I said, but more likely what you were reading about is a cockle burr, which is much smaller and clings very tightly to whatever it touches.

Because of our previous walks, Cici recognized both the smell and the sight of a honeysuckle bush. We walked over to the bush to get a close-up smell. I like this, she said, and I think they make tea from it too.

What about that blue and white thing over there? I asked. Do you remember what it is called? That is a fire hydrant, she said confidently. Very good, I said. I thought you would say fire plug since that is easier to remember. No, she said, hydrant is easy because of the word hydrate, which relates to water, and I remember it that way.

Now that was a four year lesson, well-learned.

My Country and My People

Author's Blog — Sat, 14 Apr 2012 14:16:34 GMT

If you have any interest in understanding the Chinese people, this book is a great place to start. Lin Yutang was urged by none other than Pearl Buck to write this book. Their lives were essentially the flip side of each other, with her spending most of her life in China until she was forced to leave after the Communist Party took power, and he lived much of his life in Western countries. She wrote so many influential books and articles about China and the Chinese people, but believed that Lin Yutang was much more qualified to tell the story of the Chinese people.

Last night I watched a 1958 interview of Pearl Buck that was done by Mike Wallace, who just died this week at age 93. That would make him 39 at the time of the interview, and he was a hard nosed questioner even then. Each time he would attack, though, Pearl's response would catch him by surprise, sometimes throwing him completely off track. Early in the interview he started with the foregone conclusion that she was a feminist, for example, and was visibly shocked to learn that she was anything but a feminist.

Sometimes she would embarrass Mike by turning his question around on him, almost like she was playing with his mind. She would often answer questions in a way that left him wondering what she meant, and then would surprise him with her follow-up answers that showed he had jumped to the wrong conclusion about the meaning of her statements.

Why are you so critical of American women, Mike asked at one point. I am not critical of them at all, Pearl replied. I admire American women and I believe that women all over the world look at American women as being what they want to be. All I have ever said is that I think it is unfortunate that too many women bury themselves in their homes, because even if a woman stays at home to take care of her family, she can still continue to expand her mind and participate fully as a citizen. He eventually realized that this line of attack was failing, so he tried to attack her as not liking men. He failed again.

I don't mean to say that Mike Wallace conducted a poor interview - he actually did a great job. He was just up against someone who was not what he expected, and I believe she earned his respect by her ability to stand up to him, whether or not he agreed with what she had to say.

But back to My Country and My People. My copy of the book looks like a college text book at this point. It has my yellow highlighting and my black or blue underlining where I have read the same chapters over and over again, trying to understand and remember what Lin Yutang has so eloquently written about the Chinese people. He readily admits their weaknesses, and shows how what some would perceive to be a weakness is actually the underlying strength that has allowed China to survive as a country and a culture longer than any other country.

One point he makes over and over is that intelligent people are usually cowards. By that he means that intelligent people recognize the horrors of war and will go to great lengths to avoid them. Chinese people are intelligent people, and they would rather accept and roll with changes brought by invaders or by their leaders than to rise up and fight them. If American people were subjected to what the Chinese people have lived with for thousands of years, for example, there would have been 33 revolutions, and not just one, he said.

There is so much more in the book. I have discussed a lot of things in the book with Ping and Cici to see what they think about it, and they have confirmed the salient points. It is not something I can read and put away. It is an ongoing project that requires reading and rereading, seemingly with new breakthroughs every time I study a chapter again.

Restraint

Author's Blog — Wed, 11 Apr 2012 14:02:34 GMT

Sometimes Cici has a hankering for some ice cream and talks me into driving her to the grocery store. This past weekend she couldn't make up her mind about what flavor she wanted so she kept debating back and forth in front of the ice cream containers. I want to get a small container, she decided, because I don't need a large one. I thought she had made up her mind when she started pushing the grocery cart down the aisle. When we got to the checkout counter I saw what kind of decision she had made - she bought two containers in different flavors.

But she is a weight conscious girl and I was surprised to see that as of last night, she hasn't opened either container of ice cream. That is showing a lot of restraint, but I think I know what happened. Before we left the store she found some banana chips, which is her new favorite kind of chip, and they have a sweet flavor. She has been munching on them instead of eating the ice cream.

Now Ping has been using a different kind of restraint. She holds my arms behind my back to make me do stretching exercises. She worries that I spend too much time in front of a computer and that it will affect my posture, so she makes me engage in an exercise routine to counter all the sedentary time I spend at the computer. Help, I call to Cici. Mama is torturing me, but all I get is a smile in return. It is good for you, Papa.

Hunger Games

Author's Blog — Tue, 03 Apr 2012 12:42:11 GMT

A week ago on Monday evening, Cici was in the mood for pizza and had me checking the weekly pizza specials on line. Ping was against the idea because she was already cooking dinner for us. Cici and I "accidentally" hit the order button anyway, so she had pizza to go with what Ping had prepared.

So Monday evening of this week, Ping announced that we should order pizza, in keeping with our Monday night tradition. I won't have to cook then, she said. Can you believe that? Cici asked me with a laugh. What shall we do? I don't want pizza tonight. So we prevailed on Ping to cook something for us. When she called us to dinner, I saw what she had prepared and told Cici that we were being punished.

There was a platter of chopped greens with some hot peppers mixed with them (I learned about those hot peppers with my first bite) and some corn tortillas in which to wrap the greens. Next time, we should order pizza when Mama wants one, I suggested. Cici laughed and we ate the greens.

Last Friday evening Cici drove to the mall to meet one of her classmates so they could watch the movie, Hunger Games. After the movie she called to let me know that they were going to eat something at the Cheesecake Factory. I stayed up waiting for Cici until she arrived home safely - even having the outside lights on so she could see coming up the front walk. You are wasting electricity, Ping said. I am protecting our daughter, I replied. You spoil her so much, Ping said with a laugh.

It was a great movie, Papa, Cici said when she got home. I bet it wasn't as good as the book, I replied. I had just finished reading Hunger Games earlier in the week, and was about half way through the second book in the trilogy. What happens in the next book? Cici asked me. I can't tell you anything, I said, because it would spoil the next movie for you. Pleeeeze, she said. No way, Sweetie. But we can play Hunger Games with Mama until the next movie comes out. Bad Papa, Cici said, but she knew what I was talking about, and I think she is already planning to order that pizza next Monday evening.

Dreaming of Being Bad

Author's Blog — Tue, 27 Mar 2012 13:58:20 GMT

My dream, Cici said the other morning when I dropped her off at school, barely on time, is to be late for school just once. I laughed. You are kidding, right? No Papa, I am never late for school and I never miss a day of school. Don't you think I should at least be late one time before I graduate?

I tried to help her miss a day of school. I even signed the permission sheet for her to miss school so she could visit A&M using one of the allowed college visitation excused absences. But when the day arrived, she made the decision that she couldn't miss class that day because there were too many important things happening at school.

I don't feel too bad about it, though, because Cici has been able to miss school every year while she has been on the band tour, and on days when the band goes to other schools to play as part of the school's recruiting efforts. Of course, she has also spent a lot of hours playing in the concert band on weekends and at night, so she has contributed a lot of extra time that makes up for the class time she missed.

If you want to be bad you could always say something controversial in your Salutatorian speech, I suggested last night. Papa! That wouldn't be right, she replied.

But she has her own subtle ways of "being bad." I have noticed that she rolls her waistband under so that the bottom of her uniform skirts are well above the knee, and the rules require that they be at or below the knee. And sometimes she wears a non-regulation shirt beneath her uniform cardigan because no one will be able to discover the uniform violation.

Her maturity surprises me sometimes, though. She told me about one of her classmates when we were eating dim sum Sunday night. Her mother is so strict, Cici said, that she is never allowed to do anything with her classmates. The problem with being that strict, Cici continued, is that when the girl gets to college, she will probably be more likely to do things she shouldn't do just to defy her mother for being so strict with her. So true, I replied, and so smart of you to recognize the problem.

My Salutatorian

Author's Blog — Mon, 26 Mar 2012 02:57:07 GMT

I am sitting in the same spot where I sat in the wee hours of the morning so many months ago, worried about how to overcome the failing grade that Cici had received on her first major test in high school. It was a biology test, and her score was so low that I couldn't envision a path to her earning even a C in the class. I prepared a spreadsheet that night in which I listed "what if" scenarios for all of her classes. My goal was simple: find a way to help her get passing grades in her classes.

As those of you who have followed our story know, those dark days are long behind us, and Cici has established herself as a winner in high school.

Tonight Cici and I went to Chinatown to eat dim sum while Ping napped. We stopped on the way and bought some of her favorite shorts at Academy - Maroon colored, of course, for A&M. At dinner, we talked a lot about her going away to college. Then on the way home she dropped some news on me. I need to write a speech, she said, to give at graduation. But I don't want you to write it, she continued, because you would exaggerate too much. You know me so well, I said, but does this mean you are being recognized as the salutatorian?

Yes, she replied. I will be recognized along with the student who was in second place at the end of our junior year when the class ranking was done. They are doing this because I caught and passed him last semester. So how long have you known this? I asked. Since January when we went back to school, she replied. What? And you didn't tell me? Well, remember the night we were walking in the neighborhood and I told you that I had been told that I had overtaken the second place student? I thought you understood what that meant for graduation.

No, sweetie, I had no idea that the school was actually going to do the right thing and recognize your accomplishments. If I had known that, I would have been telling the world about it. Now don't go and write about this on your blog, she admonished me. Dream! I replied. I have to tell everyone how proud I am of you.

So what will you speak about at graduation, I asked? I think I will just stand up when I am introduced and say that my Dad will speak for me, she replied with a laugh. Just give me a chance, I thought. Just give me a chance. I dusted off my son's valedictorian speech at Cici's request and gave her a copy. Remember, though, that the the purpose of your speech will be different, I said. It is a starting point, she replied. I just want to see what he said before I write my speech.

She has come so far, this young lady, since she wrote her essay when we applied for admission to high school. The essay assignment was to write about something important that happened in the past year. Here is what she wrote, exactly as she wrote it:

"This year I move to America. I think this is the most important things on me. It decide where I study, where I work, where I live. It change my life."

Her life was not the only life that was changed when she moved to America.

Baby Dragon

Author's Blog — Fri, 23 Mar 2012 17:19:51 GMT

Why, Ping asked, did she use two envelopes to send the thank you notes? Cici and I both live at the same address, and she could have put both notes in the same envelope.

You could argue that would be the logical thing to do, and it would certainly be a practical thing to do, but that probably wouldn't satisfy the rules of etiquette, I responded. You know, sort of like saving face in China.

Ping was talking about the thank you notes that she and Cici received yesterday from the soon-to-be mother of Ping's first grandchild, who will be known as Appleby. The girls are getting a kick out of that name, but they had no problems selecting shower gifts for the mother and baby.

During spring break last week, Ping and Cici went to meet a new baby who was born to one of Ping's friends. They spent an entire day with mother and baby. Why? I asked. Because the baby was so cute, they replied. Even Cici was excited about meeting the baby, which surprised me.

But Appleby will be born in Connecticut, so they probably won't meet her for a while. But Appleby's father, who is my son, is good with a camera, so the girls and I know he will be sending digital photos so everyone can welcome her to the world. This little girl will be born a dragon under the Chinese zodiac, and the girls already sent her some clothing with dragon written on them in Chinese, so I bet some of her early photos will be with her wearing the sign of the dragon.

Shoot Me

Author's Blog — Sun, 18 Mar 2012 13:25:45 GMT

Spring break is over, I announced loudly to Cici when I got home from the office yesterday. She was still lounging in bed late on Saturday morning. We have things to do for college, I told her, and we need to take care of them today. But first, I have to meet with a man about replacing our fuse panel, and also one of Mama's friends is coming to meet her for lunch, so you also need to get up quickly for these reasons.

About that time the friend arrived with her 3 year old daughter who we have known since she was born. I greeted them at the door because Ping was preparing lunch and Cici was still in bed, but this got Cici to spring into action. I met the man about replacing the fuse box. Then Cici and I ate a quick lunch and headed out the door.

First, the bank, I told Cici, and next Walgreens for your meningitis shot. Which Walgreens? Cici asked. The one near Randalls, I said. I thought they tore that one down when they rebuilt the shopping center, Cici replied. No Sweetie, it is still there, just two doors away from where we got your eye examination done a couple of weeks ago. Oh, there it is, she said as we approached it. I didn't notice it before.

Inside we go and tell the pharmacist that Cici needed a meningitis shot for college. Once they had the paperwork and the shot ready, Cici boldly presented her arm. Shoot me, she said without a trace of concern. I have watched her receive shots on several occasions and it never bothers her. The pharmacist gave us the paper to send to Texas A&M. I handed her Cici's yellow, international immunization record book and asked the pharmacist to also put in the book that Cici had received the meningitis shot.

What is this, her passport? The pharmacist asked. No, it is her international shot record, I replied. The pharmacist flipped through a few pages and said that she couldn't read Chinese. It is also written in English, right next to the Chinese, I showed her. She dutifully made the entry on one of the pages, never raising the issue that I was prepared to address. I had Cici's Chinese passport with her birth name in it because that is the name in her shot record book, and I had her U.S. passport with the name that was on the notice we needed for Texas A&M. The pharmacist made the entry in the book without ever checking the name on it, though, so the name wasn't an issue.

We returned home and I printed a fax cover sheet from A&M's website. They have one that is just for sending proof that a student has received the meningitis shot, so that made it easy. We faxed the proof to A&M and accomplished one of our goals for the day.

But Cici had a goal of her own. Can we go to the Apple store and have them check my iPhone? She asked. The battery runs down too fast and pictures taken by the front camera are shaky and unclear. Let's do it next, I said, so we headed off to the nearby mall where the Apple store is located. The store is always full and I expected it might be more packed than usual because the New iPad, as they are calling it, was just released. In fact there were a couple of rent-a-cops outside the front doors, probably for crowd control, but by now it was mid-afternoon and the store had only its usual full load of shoppers.

We made an appointment for about half an hour later to have the phone checked, which gave us time to get some frozen yogurt at Cici's favorite store nearby. She likes the coconut flavor best. Let's go check out the New iPad now, I suggested, before our appointment to have your phone checked. Cici has been using the iPad 2 since the school year started and she loves it. She liked the New iPad even better. It is so clear and so fast, she said, and the camera is supposed to be much better than before. The battery is also supposed to last longer. So we put our name on the list of people waiting to talk to an Apple rep about the New iPad.

They ran diagnostics tests on Cici's iPhone and told her that they would give her a new one. She had been smart and backed up the contents of the phone on her laptop computer before we left home, so we left the Apple store with a new iPhone and a New iPad. We use Verizon for our phones but got the New iPad to run on AT&T because with it, Cici can add a Sim card when she goes to China and she will be able to use it there.

Ping and her girlfriend caught up with us just as we were leaving the store. What? Ping said. A New iPad? I thought that was going to be for Cici's birthday. No, it is for graduation, I said, because she is going to lose her iPad 2 when she graduates and she needs an iPad to use when she is in China this summer. You spoil her so much, Ping said, but she was laughing. She earned it, I said. She can be in contact with me every day while she is in China and she can shoot me some good pictures too, and you can also be in contact with me using her iPad. So I left the mall with two happy chickens.

Back Home

Author's Blog — Tue, 13 Mar 2012 17:28:48 GMT

Your car needs some exercise, I told Cici in a text message yesterday, so we should drive it to the airport to pick you up. Nooooo!!!!!!!!!, she replied. But we drove it anyway in order to charge the battery. Then Ping teased Cici while we were waiting for her luggage. Papa drove your car and he accidentally spilled a Starbucks coffee in it, she dead-panned.

Papa! Cici gave me the evil eye until she saw me laughing and figured out that Ping was just joking with her. You are so tough on me, I told her with a laugh. But a few minutes later as we were driving home Cici admitted that she missed us while she was traveling. It was clear that she was happy to be home when we walked into the house. It was also clear that Ping had missed her a lot, as she sat in Cici's room talking with her for a long time. But still no hugs between them, even though I got one from Cici. It is the difference in cultures; they just don't show affection the way Western people do.

Cici had a good time except for the fourth night. She and her travel buddy stayed overnight in someone's home. It had bugs everywhere, she told me, and was very dirty. It also had no hot water and I had to shower in freezing cold water. I think one of the bugs bit me. But the next night was really nice, she said. The lady was so nice to us. She even helped us wash and dry our clothes.

The band also went on a long hike to see a waterfall and that was apparently a lot of fun, even though she got wet in the process. I bought a raincoat but I still got wet, she said. And she saw some snow but not too much rain while they were there. All in all it was a fun trip for her and she got to see more of America.

First spring break, then Easter break, and then graduation in May. She doesn't have much high school left.

West Coast Girl

Author's Blog — Thu, 08 Mar 2012 13:29:38 GMT

My baby chicken is way out west this morning, ready for rain in Seattle. Surprisingly, she took my advice and packed only two pair of jeans and one pair of sweat pants. But she still packed her own towels to use on the trip. She just isn't comfortable using towels that belong to someone else, or towels that are provided by a hotel.

But she still got it all in one suitcase. Is it more than 50 pounds? She asked me when it was full. I picked it up. No Sweetie, it is well under 50 pounds. I thought she might to add more things but she was happy with a lighter bag to wrestle around.

I can see her graduation photo reflected in the window in front of me. I picked it up yesterday but haven't hung it on the wall yet because we are about to take down one of the walls of my office and expand the size to almost double its present size. Once that is done and the painting and new carpeting is done, I have the perfect place to hang it already drawn on the floor plan for the expanded office. For the time being it is propped against the wall on top of the furniture behind me.

The photo is professionally framed like the valuable piece of artwork that it is, right down to the museum glass that protects it from UV rays and ensures there is no glare when one looks at the photo. In this way, it looks more like a painting than a 14 x 20 photo. The next step will be to do what is typically done with paintings, which is to write a story about the photo and encase it in protective plastic on the back of the photo so that future generations will have no doubt about who has been framed so beautifully.

Another Routine First

Author's Blog — Sun, 04 Mar 2012 13:42:18 GMT

Cici called me yesterday morning to let me know that she had taken first place again in the TAPPS state music competition in the flute category. She picked up another first place award in the duet category. But then it was on to more important things - like getting her nails done in preparation for her trip to the West coast.

I am so, so, so excited, Cici said last night. She was packing two suitcases for a six day trip. Let's see, she said, I should take 4 pair of jeans and 2 sweat pants. How about just 2 pair of jeans, I suggested. Are you crazy, Papa? I have to change every day. And I have to take my towels, so I don't have much room. Maybe my classmate and I can decide who will take shampoo and other things that we can share and then we can each pack less. This is her flute playing competition partner and they are trip buddies.

Ping and I had the pleasure of being driven around by Cici yesterday afternoon. She drove us to the mall and then to dinner in Chinatown. I love my car, she said about the Pilot. She looks pretty small sitting behind the wheel because she is so slim, but she is comfortable handling the vehicle. You need to show me how to put gasoline in the car tonight, she said as she was driving us back to our house. So we stopped and she filled up the tank. Next I need to give her a few lessons about how to check the oil and how to read the gauges. Owning a vehicle is a whole new life experience for her and she is trying to learn how to take care of it.

I have been watching an American show on my iPad recently, Cici told me at dinner last night. Have you heard of Glee? She asked. Sure I have heard of it. Do you enjoy watching it? Yes, I like it. And I am going to meet one of my friends at the AMC theaters and see an American movie tomorrow afternoon, she added. I think I have a Western girl now, but the Eastern roots are still there. She is all grown up now.

This Way

Author's Blog — Sat, 03 Mar 2012 16:48:34 GMT

Cici has a TAPPS competition today and had to be at school by 7:00 a.m. Last night she asked about my schedule today, and wanted to know if I was going to get my car washed at the place near her school. You know me so well, I said. I am going to get my car washed; does that mean you want me to take you to school? No, she replied. I will drive to school because I will finish before you leave the office, but I am not sure I know the way to school.

What? After nearly four years of driving to school you still don't know the way? Well, I am always sleeping, she said with a laugh. So I thought maybe I could drive behind you and follow you to school.

Not gonna happen, I said. You will drive to school and I will follow you, because I think you know the way to your school. If you have a problem on the way I will let you know because I will be right behind you.

We left the house early this morning with Cici leading the way. I was able to watch how she drives from a new perspective. She signaled properly, changed lanes safely, stayed within the speed limit, and drove to school with no problem at all. She hopped out of the Pilot when we arrived and laughed. It wasn't so hard, was it? I asked. No Papa, I guess I knew the way after all.

Well, at least I got my car washed early. I was the first one to arrive at the car wash.

Under her Thumb

Author's Blog — Fri, 24 Feb 2012 03:29:31 GMT

Ping and I laugh and talk about how Cici keeps me under her thumb these days. You are like an ant, Ping says, and you are under her thumb. But she walks beside me at night in the neighborhood, arm linked through my arm, protecting me in case I step on a rock or something. Ping walks the same way on the other side of me. But the minute a dog comes toward us, Cici instinctively makes sure I am between her and the dog so I can protect her.

Sometimes, like this evening, Cici comes to me and asks me if I am hungry for something, such as Vietnamese noodle soup. Let's go to 99 Ranch, she said tonight. I know you want some Pho. I laughed, because I know who really wanted some Pho, but it sounded good to me as well so off we went. We have long since lost our sense of being from different countries and don't wonder what people think about a teenage Chinese girl chatting happily with a Western man as we walk along together.

Do you think you have changed since you came to America? I asked Cici tonight. No, she replied, I think I am the same. You have changed so much, I told her. You are not the same person who came to America, and Mama is not the same person either. Both of you have changed a lot. I know the girls can't see it or feel it the way I can, but they are very confident living in America now, whereas at the beginning they were just feeling their way along.

Their vocabularies are also much different, which is to be expected since both of them have worked hard on them, but sometimes they still surprise me. Cici said something earlier this week about someone being irresponsible about something, using a word that surprised me. And we have been cleaning up the few words that she was still mispronouncing after several years because I didn't correct her at the beginning. So "towel" is no longer "tower" and "straw" is no longer "strawer."

You don't still write stories about us in your blog, do you Papa? Cici asked tonight as we walked through the neighborhood. Yes he does, Ping replied. I know he does because I read what he writes. So they both checked on me when we got home when they saw I was at the computer writing something. Papa, I can't believe you are telling stories about us. Niu Bao, I can't believe you are writing about something that just happened, Ping added.

But they left me at my work, seemingly content to know that our family is still a topic of interest to me. And if the daily stats about the number of visits can be believed, of interest to others.