Field Trips

Margaret in the Los Angeles public library

I had to go down to Orange County once more before our trip to New York and my friend Margaret (also known as my little big sister) was driving in the same direction; we decided to travel together. Margaret also wanted to show me a glimpse of the world she inhabited before she came to the Ranch, so we did a downtown detour. It was a gorgeous day, blue sky filled with big theatrical clouds, shifts of sun and shadow on the landscape, and all those tall shiny buildings looking arty and impressive. I have never felt an affinity for L.A. but this might have been the city at its best, and I wish I had brought my camera along.

 I managed to snap a picture or two with my cell phone, though, and there you see Margaret in the Chinese language section of the central branch of the public library. Wish I'd done better for you...Margaret is pretty from any angle, but the architecture was also very interesting.

Originally constructed in 1926 but subsequently renovated and expanded into an extensive complex, the library is a major attraction in itself, replete with murals and mosaics, and housing not only books but gallery exhibits, historical photographs and prints, and all sorts of community resources.It's always interesting to see a friend in a different context and get a sense of experiences that shaped them before you knew them. Margaret navigated confidently here, and it was fun to see the building near the library where she had worked, places she went with her husband when they were first going out, urban settings once routine for her. But her priority destination on this particular afternoon was a certain women's clothing store, not because it was trendy, which it is, but because it was a new business her brother Kuo had started recently, an act of optimism and spirit in the current economy. The merchandise was pretty high-fashion for my sensibilities, but interesting. I pondered a few sculptured shoes with extraordinary platformed heels and complicated details that looked like works of art, various abstractions of jeans and tops, and dresses with a vaguely 60s look. It was a very cool shop.

But when we went "backstage" to Kuo'soffice, he was sitting on the floor tenderly doting on his dog...and a litter of new puppies that looked like fluffy little guinea pigs.

After saying good-bye to Margaret I took the Metrolink into Santa Ana just like a real commuter, and between today's appointments, I even managed to stop by the assisted living facility... recently remodeled and dubbed "senior living".... to look in on my mother. The place was all abuzz for its grand re-opening, and although my mother did not fully grasp that there was a celebration pending, she seemed fine and pleased to see me. I was able to clarify the date of Yom Kippur for her and also chat with a few of the other residents I have grown fond of.

"How come you never write to me anymore?" asked Anselmo, for which I had no answer, but I promised to send him a postcard from New York.

Oh, before I close this rambling melange of a blog post, I wanted to mention another thing. I confess that when I stay in a motel, a cheesy perk is to be able to watch television. Usually a few rounds with the remote reminds me that there's very little on that interests me and  reinforces our decision not to have it. But this time, I caught part of a documentary about the life and music of Bill Withers, and it was great. Other than having listened to a hit song or two on the radio ("Ain't No Sunshine When She's Gone" comes to mind) I knew virtually nothing about him, and I was struck by his humility, grace, and insight.

In one scene he spoke to a group of children at a special school in New York for kids who stuttered.  A former stutterer himself, he described the feeling he had  at being laughed at, and then he provided his advice for dealing with this and other abuses and indignities handed out by insensitive souls.

"Prepared forgiveness," he said. "I am willing to extend something that hasn't been given to me.”

On the other hand, he quoted Thoreau about lives lived in quiet desperation and said he'd someday like to hear the sound of his desperation growing loud.  When it counts, I guess.

Mostly I am hoping to cultivate and carry some of that prepared forgiveness with me, and an extra dose of patience and tolerance. My general take on it is that it's hard being human and we need to go easy on each other.(But not on Wall Street criminals. OK? Hey, maybe I'll Occupy Wall Street while I'm in the neighborhood? Not likely. But I think what I really want to know is why there are protests in a park instead of legal prosecution. Whatever happened to political courage? Check out the film Inside Job if you really want to see your quiet desperation get loud. But I digress. I'm tired.)

So we drove home through rain and exited the storm straight into sunshine someplace in the San Fernando Valley and here we are at a rain-washed Ranch and I am packed and ready to go. New York, New York.