Why I write?

I have found myself asking this question... Is it because it's cathartic? Is it because I think my opinion is so important? Is it because I think people don't really listen? Probably all of the above... But I think the biggest reason I write is because of my mother.

My dad has been a subject of many of my posts on this blog, because he is gone I ponder over what he has left me, the legacy of hard-headedness, pride in myself, being a protector, and the 'nothing can hold me down' attitude. While those were all qualities tied up within my dad, they were not exclusive to him. My mom has all of those qualities... I sometimes forget, that part of the gene pool is pretty deep. What I'm saying is I get those qualities from both my parents. While my Dad showed us kids what those qualities were, my mom showed us how we could make the most out of those qualities in us, and not let them get us into too much trouble. That she has those qualities too is something, but I can honestly say she has truly mellowed over the years... But if you confront her or tomorrow you threaten one her kids you take a chance that it will all come back to the surface!

You might ask "What does all this have to do with 'Why I write?'"

Well, me personally I know I am always one wearing my feelings on my sleeve for everyone to see, but I have often figured if people knew why I felt the way I do they might understand me better. I learned that from my mom, if people can understand you and why you feel a certain way about things it is easier for them to accept you. She has always known how she has felt about things and she has always stood her ground. That came about because she wrote what she felt, I remember reading her poetry about what she felt and why. I think for her it was an exercise in self-examination and a means to reinforce what she knew to be true. And for me my writing has become just that. It has become a way for me to share with people what I feel and why, but also reminds me why I feel that way about things.

It might seem simple that you believe what you believe. And that should never change. But there is something about time and where you are in the stream of your life that changes what you believe and why you believe it, and that viewpoint can change. That undeniable shift in our paradigm, our viewpoint, is most often responsible for a change in our beliefs. I guess what I'm trying to say is, I write to convince myself of what I believe. That you all get to read it is just gravy

But more about my Mom. My Mom is an awesome individual. Irma Arias Hood, is the second of five children, she was born at home in the Santa Julia neighborhood of Mexico City, the family emigrated to the US when she was about 6. The family settled in San Francisco and as a family of 7 they had no choice but to be poor. But you would never know any of that from looking and listening to her today. English is her second language, she skipped 2 grades when she got here from Mexico, while she was never a 'chola' people didn't mess with her, and she was stubborn. All of that you wouldn't know today. My Mom and Dad met and married in the span of three weeks, they met at Thanksgiving 1974 and were married before Christmas.

I write all of this down so you understand where I come from, too many times people look at me and go, "What does this white guy know?" They look at me and laugh, "Oh you're Mexican American, I would have never known!" Or without thinking they dismiss or disparage the Mexican culture, that's a little insulting not because I think that Mexican culture is more valuable than another, but because I know for me being multi-cultural has value. All of that comes from my parents, my mom and my dad equally. All of this is why my mom is cool! Of course that's what I am going to say! Right! It's my mom! But one of the things I had to remember as I wrote about my Dad was that I shouldn't regret anything that I didn't say, regret over the things left unsaid is almost poisonous. And that is why I want to tell you why my Mom is the coolest. I never want to regret NOT saying these things about her, if she should ever read this I want her to know that I am proud of who I am because she is one of the people that has helped me be the man I am. I am proud of her and I will never regret that!

She has always been the strong one in the family, as it should be, Mom is the glue that has always held the family together. Seriously though Mom is cool, It's the combination of little things and the big things that make her cool. I talked about the big things how and where she grew up. But the fact is my Mom is always growing, her favorite song from Linkin Park is "Faint", c'mon does your mom even listen to Linkin Park... In the last few years she became a vegan, even though she is a vegan, she will still have a taste of something with meat in it and she knows when something is good. Speaking of which, give the LoCali Conscious Convenience on Lincoln Blvd a try... But I digress, why is Mom cool? She has been the one with the even keel, she has been the one that knew us all as kids and knew what could make us happy. When I was ten and I wanted to try something different when it came to religion my mom didn't discourage me. She knew even then I did need and would need God in my life, and I thank my God everyday that she had the courage and insight to let me make my own choices. Today she is the one that knows when each of her kids is doing okay or when they are not. Mom is cool cause she can do that with a look. She could always read us like a book, and then tell us how the story should end.

And even as I write this I know my Mom will deny most if not all of this. That is the other thing about my Mom that makes her cool, she will never make a big deal about it. But there is one last reason why my Mom is so cool. Over time I have made sacrifices in my life and tried to help her take care of the family, and when the time came for me to start my own family she never held me back, she knew when those sacrifices were done. Now when I go through issues and problems I think back on how my Dad would have thought to do things and then I think about how my Mom even now encourages me to do things, and then I find the balance that makes me happy and because I follow my parents advice I know it's the right thing.

Through everything in life Mom's goal was for me and my sister and my brother to be happy. Whatever we were doing, she wants us to be happy. That is why I write. I makes me happy, it reminds me of those who are no longer with us, it reminds me why I feel the way I do about everything, and it makes me think of my Mother, who taught me that there is more to writing than just words and facts, it is the what, when, where, and why of how we feel and who we are. And that is one of the most important things we can preserve.

Weekends with my Dad

It's funny the way we remember things...

I was just listening to some music and "Okie From Muskogee" played. Merle Haggard records were always on the turntable when we were kids!

When I was a kid we used to spend the weekend with my Dad (not that Momma wasn't around, but she knew how important that time was), he would work on the never ending chores of working on the car or cleaning out the garage or rearranging the furniture for Momma and we... more like I would be spinning records, old stuff and new stuff like Elvis, Merle Haggard, Hank Williams and Johnny Cash. Mostly we listened to Elvis right up till about noon when the local TV station would show the weekend western, then an Elvis movie. My first taste of John Wayne came on one of those weekends. "The Cowboys" "Big Jake" and "El Dorado" all the classics and yet we would sit there rolling our eyes, but we still hated "Long Hair" (Bruce Dern) for shooting "Mr. Anderson" (John Wayne) in the back. Sorry for the spoiler but if you haven't watched The Cowboys yet, shame on you!

And don't get me started on all the old Elvis movies... So corny but listening to him sing was special!

It was still a time when we were innocent, before the Internet, YES there was a time before the Internet, before video games and smartphones, ha I remember the time one of my little school friends came over and didn't know how to use my mom's fancy looking rotary phone! He picked up the receiver and just looked down at the rotary dial and stared. The poor kid only knew how to use a touch-tone phone, my parents got a kick out of it.

But I digress, we didn't worry about the things we do today, I was ten or eleven and I didn't have to worry about drugs in elementary or even later middle school, I didn't have to worry about people abusing me in any way cause I knew Dad would stand up for me, I didn't have to think about what was for dinner, how long my commute home from work would take, I didn't have to watch everything I ate and drank for fear it might trigger a migraine.

I didn't have a care in the world, just what records I was going to spin next, and to listen for that call from my Dad for a flashlight or a 3/8 socket, or that I was taking too long to start up the next record. And to believe I used to dread those weekends! 

I hated listening to all that OLD music and watching those OLD movies! Now I miss those times. I miss Dad, it's been 15 years now since he died. But I know that I will see him again, and hearing Okie From Muskogee brought a smile to my face because in my mind I could just hear him in the distance singing along about as loud as he could. (BTW Dad had never been to Muskogee in his life)

Food memories

Today while I was drinking my coffee, there was a taste that seemed familiar! It was from the past but not exactly...

Usually when I have my java at work I stick with 2 Coffeemates and 2 sugars, today we were out of Coffeemate. So I used the powdered creamer. Not my usual but in a pinch it works. As I sat at my desk I was reminded of being a kid sitting in my Grandma's kitchen drinking coffee. Grandma and Grandpa always gave us coffee. Some folks might say that coffee stunts your growth and other unfavorable things but we never knew that stuff. Mami as we call Grandma would make us coffee with warm milk. What it really was, was warm milk with just a taste of coffee.

Papi, that was what all of us called Grandpa would get the milk warm on the stove and have hot water at the ready. Mind you this was the early 80's before the days of Starbucks or Peet's rise to fame, my dad would laugh at me for paying 4 bucks for a cup of coffee. Folgers crystals were the specialty of the house.

Speaking of hot water, Papi would have the hot water ready on the stove at all times. He had (probably still has) this old 2 quart percolator coffee pot with no guts ready with hot water on the stove at all times. In the middle of the night you could find your way to the kitchen by the glow of the stove under that kettle. It was always on!

If you wanted a cup of coffee any time of day Papi and Mami's kitchen was the place to go. But you had to follow some rules.

#1 Never use Papi's cup... that was the first cup on the rack. it didn't matter if that was the second cup yesterday.
#2 Always offer to make Papi's cup of coffee first. He would always do the same.
#3 Be sure to put your spoon in the sugar before you put your spoon in the jar of Folger's. That way you never saw the coffee crystals in the sugar!
#4 Add the milk first. It was always easier to top off your cup with hot water than the other way around.
#5 Wash your cup after you were done. Nobody should have to clean up after you!

This was the routine when we had coffee as kids. It did seem simpler now that I look at it! Were we that simple as kids? I think so. I miss it, I mean really who needs coffee that is more complex than DNA?