Mariners Entry Number One

Let me get this straight...we ended last season with an overly corporate mentality, a bunch of bandwagon bootsie fans who couldn't name a single Mariner before the 95 season, and the lies that Erik Bedard may once again be our savior. we had jettisoned richie sexson and managed to build revisit the imperative question of what makes a valuable centerfielder a below league average right fielder (Ichiro)...and i wanted to wash my hands of the only team i adore more than my University of Michigan Wolverines. who knew we would change our direction from a howie and chuck and their firm grasp on the profits of the 95 and 2001 seasons to a more sabermetric, non-stone age approach. i applauded the hire of Jack Zduriencik, he who was responsible for the drafting of Ryan Braun and Prince Fielder. there has been no Al Chambers, Sam Mays, or even Matt Tuiososopos lately for Jack Z. He knows you cannot build a team with players older than 29 years old. Mathematic analysis has proven that major league baseball players peak between ages 27 and 29. he knows he can build with a nucleus of Adrian Beltre, Jeff Clement, King Felix, and Brandon Morrow. The rest can kiss my behind. Most of all, i believe Jack Z. absolutely, will not, under any circumstance, allow players like Willie Bloomquist or a washed up Aaron Sele to don a Mariners uniform simply because they are from the state of Washington. Nothing gets me more angry than the Willie B. apologists who cheer his groundouts and occasional stolen base like he's our savior. The guy has no place in major league baseball, as a no-hit, little field, try-hard, malaka. just out of curiousity, would the reaction be the same if he wasn't white? why didn't we treat Jason Ellison the same way? they grew up together. we'll save that for another blog. so i have established my faith in Jack Z. and get up in the morning prioritizing in this order...number one, is my daughter safe? number two, is my girlfriend safe? next to me? dang she's beautiful. and number three, where is the newspaper? i need my Jack Z. movement fix...NOW! i literally feel shots of adrenilin reading about his philosophies, his approach. and now the brother hires don wakamatsu? YEAH BOY! the first asian american manager in the major leagues, a lifer. he has that stone face that says there will be no half-steppin' on his watch. and they both say they want to establish a "mariner way" of playing ball. i love it. i would rather pay to see this team of hard-working, non stone-age GM and manager roll a potentially brilliant group of young ballers than a veteran-laden 85 win team with no chance of winning a ring. thank goodness for Jack Z. I CAN'T WAIT!!!!

present...

The moment you realize your child is becoming an independent person…I finished up my daughter’s first trimester parent-teacher conference a couple of hours ago and I have so many thoughts flowing and brewing in my head. She is a leader, she is bossy, she asks for more math during free choice time (like her father!) and she is very sensitive. All of these I knew walking in…and I was so incredibly proud when the first words out of her teacher’s mouth were, “I want you to know, first and foremost that Malia is such a joy to have in class and I absolutely love her big personality.” My daughter, the little bean of a person I held in the crook of my arm 6 years ago, is now a leader and a little girl who brings joy to the lives of others. Not family who love unconditionally, but her teacher and her friends who can choose to love her. I often wonder how I am so lucky to have a little girl with so much love to bring. She has a huge heart and a caring soul and those around her feed off of this. She is already motivates and inspires people to love and learn. And through these words of further encouragement and excitement from her first grade teacher, the characteristic or trait her teacher spoke to was Malia’s inner drive. She said Malia has a fire, a drive to learn, a thirst for knowledge, and she needs no motivation to find her resources and put in the effort to absorb. She is a self-starter, self-motivated. I don’t know if it is an innocent love for learning, a desire to better than those around her, a fear of failure, or she purely enjoys learning new things. What I do know is the one undying heartbeat which has kept me pushing and has supported my perseverance is my inner fire. The great ones have that inner fire, that undying drive to succeed and to improve. I am not calling myself great. Everyone knows that is not the case. But I am starting to learn that my daughter has the base to become great, and is blessed with the engine to push herself to new heights. She is talented and has a different sort of desire. She is my daughter, and I will do anything in my power to nurture and support anything she is passionate about. I love her, more than anything in this world. And today made me smile and dream of what she might be. Wow….what a birthday present…

a dynamic time...

the current national economic crisis has motivated all of us to reconsider and reevaluate what is important, and what can be sacrificed. resources we once considered renewable, bullet-proof, and guaranteed have all but disappeared. i think we all define our most prized resources in different ways. mine are people. my daughter, my mother, my girlfriend, my sister, my family, and all of these are quite safe. we are not protected from frustration and strife, but our health and stability are not in question. which brings me to the question, why are we all so stressed? what is causing this angst i feel in my gut. our house was burglarized last week, my laptop and xbox stolen. many of my families irreplaceable possessions taken. wedding ring, family heirloom jewelery, cameras, money. there is a feeling of violation, and for my sister, this was her first exposure to having something taken from her unjustifiably. i keep coming back to the fact that we are all safe. so i am conflicted...do i even have the right to be angry. a laptop and an xbox can be replaced. its only money, right? and those people i love are safe. am i really materialistic or is it the sense of unwarranted violation that is so upsetting. americans are losing jobs. americans are losing retirements. americans are losing their pride and self-worth...and i am "crying" about an xbox? so many changes are forthcoming, including how we view energy consumption, the working class, and the realistic parameters of our electable presidential candidates. everything is fluid, our values included. these times are dynamic and crazy. we went through enormous change during the depression and irrevokable change during WWII. today feels like one of those pivital times when, regardless of our values or beliefs, and despite the enormity of imnpact on our lives, we are all alive, juices flowing, anticipating what crazy event we will witness next. my bet is on sarah palin and tonight's VP debate. i'm excited, scared, smiling, depressed, motivated, sleepy, and in love simultaneously...and i still want my xbox back

i'm sorry...

when we drove past you, i critically said (out loud) that you had corny biking gear and an expensive bike and i criticized you for not really "riding" the way i would if i had the same gear. in this moment, i was expressing all that is ugly in me. for this, i am sorry. you didn't know i said what i did. and i have no clue what the rest of your life consists of. what i do know is that i was acting out of my own insecurities. being so incredibly judgemental was young and small and ugly. i am trying so hard to be more present, to not judge, and to certainly not criticize to make myself feel better. being mean was my false medication. and i used you on that particular day. i was put in my place. karma is a bitch. and i commit to doing my best to work that ugly side of me into something constructive. i am sorry...

the progression of race...

what is your immediate reaction to someone asking, "what are you?" if you are able answer without referring to some physical marking which visually identifies you, think about why? why is it a "political statement" when i "choose" to say an urban kid? or a father? or a lover? or a dork? and why do people always say, "you know what i mean..." as if i should know they mean race and ethnicity. isn't it my choice how i identify myself? and what will, "what are you?" mean when we are all some lighter shade of brown? will it mean are you rich? poor? fat? skinny? and imagine the looks if i said happy? or in love? and why are "skin-colored" band-aids not for me? this conversation is TBD baby!

twisted minds...

some days, it all reads so clearly...career, family, partner, the weather, electoral politics, life. and other days, i feel i live in a polluted haze, filled with strife, confusion, worry, and fear. in the past, willing my way out of the fog was the only method i knew. put yourself in your safe environment. isolate yourself. go to sleep. eat lots of ice cream. but these are temporary fixes. what is really going on in this dome? is the fact that i am in a new kind of love i have never known have something to do with the haze? or is it providing those moments of incredible clarity and passion? is the thought of grad school frightening me? or is it driving my motor? so many questions and a mind twisted into hot scrap metal. as i begin to understand how to solve this puzzle and mold my metal into a finished product, i will try to enjoy this ride...

love...

i love my daughter...i love my mother...i love coffee...i love smoked pork...i love sunshine...lately, i love my bicycle...i love hawaii...i love my buspass...i love mexico...i really love books...i love lake washington...i love garfield high school...i love giving flowers...i love chile verde...i love the Mariners...i love vitamin D...i love reading...i love walking...i love exploring cities previously unknown to me...i love the music of D'angelo and Maxwell...i love hummus...i love a great cappuccino...i love garlic...i love grapefruit supremes...i love the university of michigan...i am beginning to love myself...and i will soon love again

i'm a leper...

so i spend two days a week in a community north of seattle called mill creek. my daughter lives there and i pick her up from school and take the bus home with her wednesdays and thursdays, leaving her friday morning to be picked up by her mother. no big deal right? thursdays are spent at a local coffee house reading while she is in school. sounds innocent, right? well...it is innocent other than i feel as out of place as 1982 Richard Pryor in Coeur d'Alene on a getaway vacation! i should wear pleated (lightest shade!) beige khakis, a white three-button polo shirt with my corporate insignia, order a grande vanilla nonfat latte, and grow a moustache somewhere between Charles Barkley's and MagnumPI's. i also must flirt with every pleathery skinned woman above the age of 42 and wear white New Balance almost Orthopedic tennis shoes to designate my leisure if i am on vacation from work. i am scared to show the cover of my Che' book out there out of fear of a lecture or worse yet a beating. i mean it! the looks i received one ill-fated time i decided to leave the book on my table when i went to the washroom could have drilled holes in my head! it doesn't help that i'm not white either. i rant, because i care. i've grabbed my morning coffee at this establishment on wednesday and thursday for about a year now, and i sincerely feel pretty unique as far as dress, speech, and level of pigmentation, yet there has been NO acknowledgement of my repeat patronage even though this particular company prides itself on its ability to engage its customers and its desire to learn names and make it your "third place." i don't blame the company in particular. shoot, i worked for them for four years! the employees (partners) are also from this community, so i believe it is bred in all of them to distrust, ostricize, and at times mistreat folks who are different. i shouldn't be surprised. i wouldn't be out there if my daughter did not live there. yes, it is difficult for me that she is spending the majority of her time there. yes, i give every effort to show her different ways to think and live when she is with me. but i can't help but feel like an outsider when i am there. i know i can be overly conscious of my differences, but this place is ridiculous! in time, i hope i feel a little more comfortable in milky white suburban America. but deep down, i also know that milky white suburban America is holding on for its life. Caucasians will be the racial minority within three to four decades, and class will always be the lense through which i view my experiences. However, my time in Mill Creek has been eye-opening, and i swear to never make anyone feel like a leper in my community!

speaking of Donruss...

Topps? Donruss? Upper Deck? or Fleer? i was a Fleer guy myself. the 87 fleer with the light blue border was the freshest. that Eric Davis 87 fleer rookie card was dope. what about the 89 Upper Deck Ken Griffey Jr. rookie? or the Mark McGwire Topps Olympic card? or the 87 Donruss Benito Santiago Rated Rookie? or the 88 Donruss Gregg Jeffries? Nevermind. just reminiscing...holla!

the tooth fairy...

my daughter lost her two bottom teeth over the past week (thank god). she was so excited, jumping up and down. she stayed up 'til 10:30 waiting for the tooth fairy. that (mom's house) tooth fairy left her 2 dollars. she lost her second tooth last night, and the freakin' tooth fairy at daddy's (that's me!) left her 10 dollars! 10 freakin dollars?!?!?!? remember when the tooth fairy left you a nickel? or a quarter if you were of wealthy stock? dang! she is spoiled but that is besides the point. she must of been that broadmoor tooth fairy. where was she when i wanted a new box of donruss? holla!

that knot in your stomach...

could it be the beginnings of an ulcer caused by the freakin' Seattle Mariners horrendously corporate, ignorant front office pushing the odds of my witnessing a Mariners World Series victory hopelessly into the stratosphere of unachievable? could it be the pending purchase of a restaurant and bar with two close friends, taking on more responsibilty than i ever have? a three-quarter of a million dollar business will be under our control. thats mad scary, and could very easily cause a knot in my stomach. could it be the thoughts of grad school, potentially entering the college of education at the university of washington or maybe even work towards an American Ethnic Studies graduate degree like i had been talking about for all of these years? that would be a step back to my roots, one which i believe everyone expects me to make eventually. or could it be that inescapable feeling of personal connection, enjoying time and space shared with another person so much you catch yourself feenin' for it. you have that ability to focus your thoughts on the task at hand, be it work, reading, riding up a gimongous hill, or making the bombest rack of ribs known to man. but you still have that knot, reminding you that your proverbial life pie is one slice short of whole. this connection can be a bestfriend, it can be a lover, or it could be both. companionship doesn't cause the knot, unless you are in love with that person, and i know we all have seen when harry met sally. i have a big ass knot in my stomach. and i don't quite know what it is. what i do know, is that Bill Bavasi, Chuck Armstrong, and Howard Lincoln need to be fired so i can at least watch decent baseball in the month of June. i also know that we are about to buy Luau, which is a huge investment, and a risk i never thought i would take. i know too that i am serious about applying for grad school, and can picture myself as a high school history teacher and one day, an administrator who fights to improve the standard of urban public schools, resources, structures, and curriculum. i see myself writing a couple of historical fiction books, with many of my closest friends as characters. and i see myself falling in love again. this knot could be any one of those things, but if i had to guess, i would say my heart is causing this knot...lord help a brotha...holla!

blog number one!!!

i dream of this summer, when i can bring all of my best friends together for a BBQ. a celebration of sunshine, positive energy, progression, health, and love. i imagine James, Jamine, Tony, Toby, Myer, Kyle, Keoke, Maria, Kasey, Elisabeth, Robin, Lily, Brent, Jesse, Fatima, Ralph, Melissa, their newborn baby, Megan, Airiona, Amanda, Lisa, Andre, April, Steve, Steve-O, Gina, and so many other friends all together to celebrate. So often we don't stop to appreciate all of the incredible people in our lives. i know i don't. i also never have the opportunity to get all of the people i care about, from so many different social circles, together at one time. i imagine inviting everyone, hyped. at golden gardens, a cookout. i would start the pork shoulder at 7am, staking out a spot in the sand near the water. James would join me, bringing coffee. I would have a boombox, bumping MosDef, D'Angelo, John Legend, E-40, and Jimi Hendrix. the sun would already be bright. the night before, i would debate as to whether to wear the black guyabera or the white one, knowing the white one would get dirty. black "gaucho-style" shorts, flip-flops, and a guyabera. the smell of the pork shoulder would permeate the skies, white folks wondering what the hell that kid is making in the weber. james and i would relax in the folding chairs, knowing this was about to be the best day of the summer! As the morning wore on, people started to straggle up. each person would be greeted with a huge smile and a hug. this is the one day we are all family. i would introduce everyone to everyone. kids running around, people laughing, it would be one huge joyous party. when everyone arrived, we would gather around the BBQ, and i would ask everyone to listen up for a sec. "i am so thankful for everyone here today! this is a beautiful thing. please eat until you can't eat anymore. i love you!" the music, the dancing, the new introductions, a sunset, and the sharing of love brings me to an emotional place. just about everyone has left, and i drop to my knees, watching the last bit of sun disappear over the horizon. D'Angelo's "A'aight" is groovin,' and i turn to the final remaining friend, and give her a huge hug. she looks at me and asks why i am crying. my tears are tears of happiness, thankful for such amazing people in my life. i thank her for her presence in my life, grab my radio, and hold her hand...walking slowly along the shorefront...wandering back to reality...