Travel – Page 9 – Don't Gel Too Soon

JULIE’S SHOWER: WHO EVER THOUGHT RAISING SONS WOULD BE SO GREAT!

OK so I grew up with sisters. And I went to a women’s college. And most of my life I’ve worked in offices with more women than men (amazing, no?) So, when I was pregnant I was terrified at the idea of having boys. They were so strange — so noisy — I had no idea what was coming. Except that what was coming was Josh. And then Dan. And it turned out that — hang on sisters — boys are a blast, great company, luuuhhhv their moms and — boys are easier! I know this because I’ve watched my friends raising daughters and the tensions are fierce. Girls and their mothers — boys and their dads. Not easy.

But let’s get back to basics. Little boys run around a lot and make noise. They jump off things. They ride the dog around and fall off and hit their heads and need stitches. They, later, seem to be trying to kill each other much of the time. And before I go any further – let me tell you that there’s an old shrink saying that therapists never believe that babies are born with personalities until they have their second child. This is also true with many women regarding gender differences – it hits you once they show up. My kids are feminists and very good to the women in their lives as far as I can tell – but they are men and they were boys and that is not like being a girl. Nope.

I have great memories from when they were little – stomping around singing Free to Be and Da Doo Ron Ron Ron and The Garden Song and Abiyoyo, skiing down black diamond slopes and going to Yankee Stadium to see Billy Joel and Carnegie Hall to see Pete Seeger and Madison Square Garden to see Sesame Street on Ice and being dragged to an infinite number of Police Academy and other disgusting movies.

And I lived in alien space much of the time. Some of our hit toys (ie things I would NEVER have had in my house if there were not these strange male creatures inhabiting the premises — and pre-video game age of course):
One of those Radio Shack electronics build-your-own thingy kits that make bells ring and bulbs light up if you hook them up correctly.
Legos
Anything aviationary
Anything Star Wars
Anything GI Joe
Voltron
Weird wrestling stuff (boy did I fight that one!)
Folk music (that’s my fault though)
Baseball cards (and proudly, I did NOT throw them out)
Stuffed animals
Ernie

No Mary Poppins books (I tried) but I did get to read all The Great Brain and Ralph S Mouse and Timothy Goes to School and a gazillion baseball player bios.

There’s serious stuff to having sons, of course. We have to be sure, no matter how much we love hanging around with them, that they get enough alone time with their dads or some other male figure. And wave bravely as they off together on a Sunday (also your day off after all) without you. We have to accept and celebrate the guy stuff.

Just like girls, but differently, we have to let them know we think they can take care of themselves – enable independence at each landmark, if we think they can handle it, even when we really want to help. It’s so easy, with a boy, to want to remain more connected than is useful for them as they grow. At certain points they may pull back for a while, when they need to untangle. We have to let them and respect the struggle

With regard to respect for women – I am deeply impressed with my sons’ perspectives. I hope that being honest and respecting their developing attitudes, helped. I never threw a Playboy out of our house but I made it very clear how I felt about them in the (brief) period they were around. Anything like that, of which I (or my husband) disapproved, had to come out of their allowance. They had to put their money on the line – and I think that helped more than locking it all out of the house and pretending they weren’t interested. It also helped us understand where their heads were. Although that is easier for boys because they are, honestly, more straightforward.

Of course none of what I write here applies to all boys. Much of it may apply to plenty of girls. But it was my experience and in a kind of stream of consciousness baby shower kind of way it’s what rose to the top. The bottom line though, is that even though it’s scary if you’ve lived in a world of women, as I had, they are just wonderful. Most of all, because I know Julie, from reading your blog for so long, you would be a great mother to any child with whom you were blessed, this kid is in for a great life. And where advice is concerned, I say take it only as far as your gifted mother gut takes you. Where the two collide, trust yourself. Girl, boy or android, that way your little one will always be in the right hands.

CITY LIGHTS BOOKS, SAN FRANCISCO AND MY LOVELY SONS

When I was in high school this was one of the places I dreamed of coming: San Francisco’s City Lights Bookstore. Far from my home in Pittsburgh, arty, intellectual and free. Ironic then that all these years later I’m here, usually, to visit sons ten years older than I was when I set my sights on Greenwich Village or Bloomsbury. . . or San Francisco.

One lives here; the other’s girlfriend lives here so he pretty much commutes here from Seattle. It’s a perfect place to meet and spend the holidays. We came out for Thanksgiving and are here again, this time since Christmas day.

It’s been lovely, if a bit stressful: a new girlfriend for our younger one – we had dinner with her – and the pressure that comes from wanting infrequent visits to go well. At best we see one another every couple of months; both boys wish we lived closer which makes me feel good but it’s tough that we don’t — and have not much prospect of ever moving this direction.

Now it’s our last day and the usual burgeoning lump in the throat has appeared. Both boys have been genuinely happy to be with us and have ditched their calendars to spend the week with us. I’m very grateful for their attention – they think I’m nuts and say of course they want to be with us. For some reason this astonishes me. We do have fun – jabbering about everything from Benazir Bhutto to series television. Lots of laughter and the additional delight of seeing the boys and Josh’s friend Amy laughing and enjoying one another’s company. But as the time comes to leave, board the plane and fly back to our DC lives, a determined sadness permeates even the happiest of moments. I once interviewed Naomi Foner, mother to Maggie and Jake Gyllenhaal and the woman who wrote Running on Empty, a film about children leaving home in a particularly profound and complete way. "Parenthood is the only job" she told me, "where you measure success by how well you say goodbye."

Manifestly, we’ve done that well. Our boys are strong, self-sufficient, productive men who are friends to one another and love their parents. They know we’re here but know too that they can take care of themselves. In that way, we’d be defined as successful. But. But. No matter how proud I am, how grateful for their strength and wisdom, humor and goodness, I miss them.

They are the treasures of my days and will always be, and the physical distance that prevents an easy Sunday afternoon movie or Chinese dinner and makes every visit an event is always a painful reality.

I’ll deal with it and so will they. It’s the way things are – and it’s certainly better to want them more than we see them than to have them sigh with relief when we leave for the airport. And whether we’re there or not, their lives are rich and often joyful. And so, I tell myself, at least when I’m missing them, I know they’ve become the men I would have wished them to be – for their sakes, not ours. And that’s a lot. It doesn’t put them here next to me — but it does send with me a quiet peace amid the sadness. That’s really all I can – or should – travel with. The rest — working toward and achieving what they want from their lives and moving forward in the world — belongs, as it should, to them.

Happy New Year.

CALIFORNIA DREAMIN’ – SAN FRANCISCO SCENES YOU MIGHT HAVE MISSED

We’re here to visit our remarkable,wonderful sons and having a lovely time – hence the virtual radio silence here. Some things though, you need to share – even during a family vacation.

First of all, you always know when you come to San Francisco that you’ll see things that might elude you elsewhere, but this one is spectacular even for the capital of Blue State America. This little guy is wearing a shirt that says "Don’t pat me, I’m working." He’s apparently an assistance animal but we were damned if we could figure out what he was assisting in doing… besides wheeling through Chinatown making friends.

Lucky Revolution Vegan Chinese Restaurant (outside of which the Monkey rolled past us.) Great combination fried rice and hotpot eggplant, too

This is the site of Dave Eggars‘ tutorial project 826 Valencia, now expanding to other cities. Author of A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius, founder of McSweeney’s publishing and The Believer magazine, he’s built a place to effectively teach writing and communication to underserved kids. It’s embarrassing to wander in, thinking oneself fairly cool for knowing to come here — and to discover — a gift shop! Clearly Eggars and his crew have built something very attractive — and become a tourist attraction.

One block from 826 Valencia and across the street, this blast from the past — windows jammed with anti-war and other political messages. This is not, of course, limited to San Francisco, especially these days, but it just seems so at home here.

Yesterday my husband announced that he had a surprise for me – and dragged me out of the hotel for breakfast. Next thing I knew, we were aboard a cable car for the first time since somewhere around 1971, right after we got married and came to Stanford for him to finish school. It was a great ride on a rainy morning.

We passed this – the top of Lombard Street, San Francisco’s zig-zaggiest.

And ended up here – at the famous Buena Vista Cafe. Famous as the place that invented Irish Coffee, across the street from the end of the cable car line and just above Fishermen’s Wharf, it’s a true landmark a place we used to love. It was so great to return and sit by the window watching this city’s every-changing tourist scene. On this corner, it could still have been 1971 when we first came here. There’s something lovely about a return like this especially when it’s a gift. My sweet husband triumphant once again… 36 years after our first visit!

More pix soon. Goodnight for now.

KUNG PAO COMEDY SAN FRANCISCO STYLE: CHRISTMAS WITH SHELLEY BERMAN

Of course there’s only one way to celebrate Christmas in San Francisco if you’re Jewish – tear over to the New Asia Restaurant for a little Kung Pao Kosher Comedy. Now in its fifteenth year, this nutty evening is a great way to spend Christmas night – even if you’re not Jewish. Founder Lisa Geduldig invented King Pao for lonely and/or bored San Francisco Jews with nothing to do on Christmas and it’s now a beloved tradition and sells out 8 shows, filling a huge Chinese banquet hall and dispensing audience members to 10-person tables with names like Matzo Brei and Joan Rivers. You can see how big it is just below.

Beyond all this, there’s also a full balcony. The crowd is interesting – kids from Berkeley Hillel, families, couples, groups of pals and random strays. Unfortunately, this "kosher comedy" night isn’t kosher so we went to the "cocktail" show and didn’t eat but it was really fun. The other three acts were good, but really amazing was to see Shelley Berman, celebrating his 50th year in comedy so close to where he began at The Hungry i all those years ago.

He now, in addition to his comedy appearances, plays Larry David’s father on Curb Your Enthusiasm and a judge on Boston Legal so he’s not exactly unknown, but last night was an introduction for many clearly enchanted young people in the audience. And he does it all with a gentle humor devoid of cruelty or crassness. It’s interesting to me what we can forget about what’s possible not only between one another but also between a performer and an audience when there is high regard — real respect — going both directions.

What that meant was that, amid the hilarity, I, as usual, landed in a philosophical and somewhat political frame of mind. How have we come to a place where this sort of performance is so rare? Surely we can’t be without excellent, respectful performers. Clearly, in this hip, modern audience, there was no sense that this style was antiquated or tired. But it’s a long way between evenings like this. I guess a live Springsteen show is another true exchange between performer and audience. But in entertainment, and sadly, in politics, there sure isn’t much that leaves everyone knowing they’re valuable, worthy people who’ve shared laughter and even moments of emotional connection with those in a position to "address" them. And yeah I know this is pretty much to stand on the shoulders of a stand-up comic but I’m kind of following my head this morning and that’s where it took me.

Oh – one more thing. Just before the show started my son pointed across the room and found one of his brother’s oldest friends – also a friend of his – a musician who’s been living across the country in Stockbridge MA, waving at us. Each delighted – and impressed — at the other’s presence, we were very glad to see one another but, despite differences in age, geography and lifestyle, not at all surprised that each would choose to be there.

ATONEMENT: THE MOVIE

Have you seen Atonement? It’s haunting me. I’m not going to offer a full-on discussion – we’re leaving for San Francisco in the morning and have to get up at 4ish so this is a quick consideration. It’s one of the most beautiful films I remember in a long time, intelligent and sad. The ending is annoying but inevitable. I’m a World War II freak though – the heroism of the British has a always particularly attracted me. I have friends who always remind me of how much more the Russians suffered and how much less credit they get, but you still have to admire the strength of those suffering the Blitz for so long.

So go see it. See for yourself. Think about the universal participation – rich girls in nurses uniforms, maids and chauffeurs joining peers and poets at war. It’s at least worth going for its exploration of those times. Post here if you feel like it; I’d like to know how others feel.

Meanwhile we leave in the morning for San Francisco to see the boys and their friends. Back New Year’s Eve. For word from the city by the bay, watch this space.

WHAT $600 WILL BUY IN MANHATTAN –OR HOW I LEARNED TO STOP WORRYING AND [STILL] LOVE NEW YORK

This is our room at the W Hotel on Lexington Avenue across the street from the Waldorf. It’s a trendy place with dark hallways (trendy), leaning mirrors at the elevators (trendy), a lobby all silver and white and wood, including a huge bowl of silver Christmas Tree balls and another of silver Hershey’s Kisses. Our room is literally no bigger than this. And the bathroom… well, look.

This is it. All of it. We lived in Manhattan for 20 years so I know from New York prices and this post isn’t really about the $600 (!!!!) room. It’s just that this is ALL you get for $600. This event is across the street and our hosts put us here. I’m not ungrateful; in fact, it was lovely of them to place us right there. I’m just stunned, even after all my years both of New York living and heavy-duty traveling that this is what things cost. Plain, old, mediocre to not-so-great things like this room.

THIS is what I bought in ONE DAY of getting ready for the dinner I went to tonight. Enough makeup and hair products and hair styling/cutting/coloring to (almost) pay for this room. It will last a very long time but I’m crazed with guilt. Oh well. I’m trying not to surrender to all the "I don’t need that" stuff when it’s things I want and actually might need (at least a little bit) and doesn’t cost as much as a laptop or a car.

This is where we were – a benefit dinner. This is Cheap Trick performing Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band. Everyone dancing in the aisles and me vacillating between loving it and feeling weird at people channeling Beatles wonders, but not the Beatles. Should they? Was it irreverant to the point of sin? I don’t know, but it sure was fun.

There’s lots more and I should tell you about it but I’m tired and we have to get up early to get the train home. I will say that seeing 50 or so cancer survivors up on the stage singing "Good Day Sunshine" was pretty moving. Goodnight for now.

I LOVE LA — NO, REALLY

I’m sitting right here – next to the pool, at the Mosaic Hotel in Beverly Hills, where we’ve been coming for years. What a treat to be writing outside in December. The whole time I lived here I complained – about the lack of "intellectual rigor", about the meanness of Hollywood (which, by the way, makes Washington politicians look like amateurs), about the lack of autumn foliage, about the spoiled kids and on and on. I guess I still think a lot of those things, but when we drive in from the airport, passing all the pastel buildings, the sun shining, the air balmy and gentle – I remember the good things. Maybe our East Coast weather builds character and a grounding in reality but this really is lovely. At least for visiting.

It’s also different to come to LA as an observant Jew. Orthodox Jews are a parallel universe – something like Harry Potter compared to the Muggles. It’s a culture with, by necessity, many of its own institutions, the strengths of which are determined largely by the size of the community. LA has lots of observant and formally Orthodox Jews so there’s a spectrum of services — and standards. Yeshiva girls in sweatshirts and leggings, every kind of kosher restaurant, schools, and of course, shuls. Here’s little bit of what we’ve seen in the couple of hours we’ve been here on this trip.

This is B’nai David Judea, a modern Orthodox congregation on Pico near Robertson, in the heart of the Orthodox community. We’ve been to services there a couple of times on Shabbat – it’s a lovely community and a beautiful sanctuary – and the congregation is young, hip, and in many cases, Hollywood.

Just a block away there are several kosher groceries and delis. Here’s one.

And these guys – they’re the backbone of Jeff’s Gourmet Kosher sausage. We’re taking lots home to our friends – there’s nothing like it near us.

And this — this is a real, live, kosher Subway! Not too shabby.

There’s more to LA than the stereotypes that were our reality when we lived here. Lots that’s nice. Sadly, the ugliness and banality conceals much of it; only after a long absence (and perhaps the added perspective of a religious community) that I, at least, have been able to see both sides. So bring it on Randy Newman — it’s a great song.

TIRED TUESDAY

NABLOPOMO is almost over. I’ve spent half of it seven time zones to the east and another five days three time zones to the west, so, basically, I haven’t know what time it was all month. Oh – and in part of my head it’s still about…August. I can’t believe how fast this year has gone. We’ve had plenty of ups and downs and I’m sure there will be more, and slowly, over the year and most particularly over this month, I’ve discovered how important this blog has become. It’s not just an outlet or a project, it’s become something of a refuge. I love the freedom to think out loud, to write it all down — sometimes spontaneously with little or no discipline and sometimes with great care. In either case, I’ve reminded myself how much I used to love to write and how glad I am to have returned to the old habit. It’s still a bit premature to bid the big NAB farewell though; we’ve got the 28th, 29th and 30th left. More to come – and then it’ actually the last month of the year. Unbelievable.

LEAVING SAN FRANCISCO – AND IT’S SAD

I’m in the Red Carpet Room at SFO and very sad. Saying goodbye to my kids is always a wrench – for them, too. I want to write about leaving but it’s the kind of thing that says more about them than I feel fair revealing. Suffice it to say that on this week of Thanksgiving I’m as thankful for them as it’s possible to be.

I was so sad that when we went through security and they took my H20 spray away from me I burst into tears. My sweet husband is on his phone trying to find a way to buy a replacement for me on the web. God bless him — I do, every day. See you in Washington.

I LEFT MY HEART IN SAN FRANCISCO (SORT OF)

This has been a wonderful trip, and by the time this appears I’ll be returning to Washington, the city by the Bay behind us. We’re going back at the end of December so it’s not as sad as sometimes, but when you leave your children it’s bittersweet at best. Most of what we did was more wandering than scenic but here’s a bit of it.

Tour trolley

Balloon gladiator with sword

San Francisco Apple store the Friday after Thanksgiving
It was a mob scene

Apple 2

More when we land. That’s all for now.