The good news is that the cast keeps Vương’s arm in place; therefore, he doesn’t need surgery yet. Because the fractured bone is so close to his elbow, it can be moved. He’ll have to come back next week for another x-ray to determine if he wouldn’t need surgery at all. It’s another week of patiently waiting.

The bad news is that Vương won’t be able to ski this winter. The fracture will need three to four months to completely heal. Our annual winter break ski trip might need to be cancelled this year. Our family skiing experience won’t be the same without him on the slopes. He’s an integral part of the crew. He always led us into the trees. Watching him grow as a skier and riding alongside with him had always been a joy for me. Hopefully, he will be able to join us in January, 2026.

Anyway, shit happens. We’ll just have to adjust our plans and adapt to our circumstances. His recovery is our priority right now. Everything else can wait.

It has been 10 days since Vương’s arm is fractured. Today we need to take him back to the pediatric orthopedic for an x-ray to determine if he would need surgery or not.

The last 10 days seemed like eternity. I constantly have to remind him not to move his fractured arm around too much. I have been praying that he wouldn’t need surgery to put a screw in his bone.

We were talking about skiing at dinner last night and Vương said sadly, “I am not going to be able to ski or snowboard.” Damn! That cut like a knife. If he won’t need surgery, he will be out of his cast in less than 3 weeks.

Needless to say, I couldn’t sleep last night. I couldn’t stop thinking about it. As I am writing this post, I am feeling butterflies in my stomach. I am taking the day off from work because I am not going to be able to concentrate on anything else other than his arm.

This is the first time in my life that I am dealing with bone injuries. I hope it is my last. Vương is the one with the fractured bone and yet it hurts me more than I am being injured myself. I am praying that his bone is healing well and no surgery required.

Today is Election Day in Virginia. I will head to the poll and cast my vote for all Democrats:

• Abigail D. Spanberge for Governor
• Ghazala F. Hashmi for Lieutenant Governor
• Jay C. Jones for Attorney General
• David L. Bulova for Member House of Delegates 11^th District

I urge you to vote for candidates with a D next to their name to resist the current president and his administration. Our constitution is under attack. Our democracy is dying. Our country is falling under autocracy. Voting for Democrats is the only way to take back our government from an authoritarian.

Đêm qua thao thức suốt đêm suy ngẫm về những chuyện xảy ra gần đây. Chẳng lẽ lại mượn rượu giải sầu? Tôi đành mở Spotify lên nghe. Không biết là tình cờ hay cái thuận toán của Spotify thông minh đến nỗi đã nắm được tâm trạng của tôi mà nó cho tôi nghe ca khúc “Kỷ Niệm” của nhạc sĩ Phạm Duy qua tiếng hát Phạm Hoài Nam.

“Kỷ Niệm” bắt đầu với tiếng đàn guitar mộc mạc cùng với tiếng dế gáy trong đêm khuya, anh hát “Cho tôi”… bỏ một khoản trống rồi tiếp tục, “lại”… Anh nhả chữ “lại” với một tâm trạng mệt mỏi của một người từng trải. Mười mấy năm trước nghe ca khúc này, dĩ nhiên hai câu tôi thích nhất là, “Tôi mơ thành triệu phú, cứu vớt gái bơ vơ / Tôi mơ thành thi sĩ, đem thơ dệt mộng hờ”. Nhưng giờ đây, hai câu này mới thấm: Tôi không đòi khôn khéo, tôi không đòi bao nhiêu / Cho tôi lòng non yếu, dễ khóc dễ tin theo”.

Đương nhiên Phạm Hoài Nam không thể hát “Tình lỡ” của nhạc sĩ Thanh Bình trau chuốt như những ca sĩ chuyên hát nhạc trữ tình, nhưng anh đem đến những cảm xúc riêng của anh. Với tiếng đệm của đàn dương cầm, anh hát, “Thôi rồi”… Cách anh phát âm chữ “rồi” nhẹ nhàng nhưng không còn một chút hy vọng, “còn chi đâu em ơi”.

Với “Áo lụa Hà Đông” của nhạc Ngô Thụy Miên được Phạm Hoài Nam thổi vào làng gió blues nhưng vẫn giữ được cái đẹp của nắng Sài Gòn. “Gặp nhau làm ngơ” của nhạc sĩ Trần Thiện Thanh và “Tôi đưa em sang sông” của nhạc sĩ Nhật Ngân và Y Vũ được đổi sang nhịp điệu swing rất tao nhã. “Lệ đá” của nhạc sĩ Trần Trịnh được làm khác lạ qua điệu bossa nova.

Tuy 12 ca khúc trong album Hát lời nào nhớ, đã phát hành năm 2019, đều quen thuộc cả, nhưng Phạm Hoài Nam đã biến chúng nó thành của riêng anh. Với không gian acoustic pha vào một chút jazz và cách anh xử lý ca từ đã giúp tôi vượt qua một đêm đầy tâm trạng mà không cần đến men rượu.

I tuned up a young man’s snowboard for $50. Yesterday he came to pick it up and tipped me $10. I didn’t expected it. As far as I could remember, it could be the first tip I ever received in my life. It made me even more appreciative of his generosity.

I taught snowboarding last season and I received no tip at all. I was not complaining though. I was doing it for fun and, of course, for the free passes. Although it is not required, you should tip the instructors if you take skiing or snowboarding lessons and if they had done an excellent job. We get paid very little.

On the other hand, these group and private lessons aren’t cheap either; therefore, don’t worry about tipping if you can’t. We do our job regardless to help you enjoy an experience of a lifetime.

My mind has been fucked up lately and alcohol keeps me floating above my own ocean of emotions. Once the alcohol wears off, however, I am drowning again. I need something else to take things off the edge. I recently discovered Alice Phoebe Lou through her latest release, Oblivion. The acoustic setting calms my mind as her intimate singing soothes my soul.

Right off the opening track, “Sailor,” I dig her angelic, slightly scratchy vocals. Accompanied by a strumming guitar, she sings, “You were once a sailor / Sailing through my mind / I had never given up / On your return to my shores.”

Furthermore, what draws me into Lou’s music is her poetic lyrics. On “Sparkle,” accompanied by subtle piano keys, she phrases softly, “I will not change / For the reasons you think / In a blink of an eye / I’ll have metamorphosized.” Love the way she enunciates that last word.

“Skyline” is a testament that Lou is a great storyteller. Using piano as a device, she narrates the lyrics with poise and punctuation: “There’s a body lying in the middle of a busy street / He’s painted red and staring at the sky / He leans out his car window and says, ‘Get the hell out of my way / I’ll be late, I’ve gotta be on time.”

The entire album is filled with poetic lyricisms and her simple approach makes her songs personal and comprehensible. The whole close-out track consists of, “With or without him / With or without / Without / With or without.” Without a doubt, Oblivion is a masterpiece of minimalism.

I haven’t listened to Lily Allen for a while. The last time I wrote a review of her sophomore album, It’s Not Me, It’s You, was in 2009. When I spotted her latest release, West End Girl, on Spotify, I knew I had to listen right away. I was not disappointed.

On the opening title track, she sets up the narrative over the bossa-nova rhythm. She briefly describes their relationship when she and her husband settled in New York. Then she moved back to London for a lead role. While they were apart, her husband wanted an open relationship because he needed pussy. She agreed because she wanted him to be happy.

Over the heavy electronic production, she started to “Ruminating.” With the assistance of Auto-Tune she confessed, “And I can’t shake the image of her naked / On top of you and I’m dissociated.” She even got jealous, “And I’m not hateful but you make me hate her / She gets to sleep next to my medicator.”

Over strumming guitar and pounding bass in “Sleepwalking,” she revealed her marriage issue: “‘Why aren’t we fucking baby?’ Yeah, that’s what you said / But you let me think it was me in my head / And nothing to do with them girls in your bed.”

On “Relapse,” she declared that her marriage was over: “The foundation is shattered, you’ve made such a fucking mess / I tried to be your modern wife, but the child in me protests.” Just hearing her sing softly, “Pussy Palace,” gets a kick out of me. What things do they have at the “Pussy Palace?” Of course, she knows you wonder; therefore, she discloses, “Duane Reade bag with the handles tied / Sex toys, butt plugs, lube inside / Hundreds of Trojans, you’re so fucking broken / How’d I get caught up in your double life?”

With “Nonmonogamummy,” a collaboration with Specialist Moss, she tried to be open as well: “And now I’m looking at my Tinder, well, maybe I’m more of a Hinger / He wants to take me out to dinner, hope he looks better than his picture.”

The album closes out with “Fruityloop” and she leaves it as is: “It is what it is, you’re a mess, I’m a bitch / Wish I could fix all your shit, but all your shit’s yours to fix.” Based on her divorce, Allen crafted a conceptual album that reads like an open book from start to finish. It’s an honest-yet-ruthless work of art.

Nowadays Xuân and Vương take over the music when we ride in our minivan. They created their own Spotify playlist. Xuân picks most of the songs, which have loopy techno beats and a few weird-accented singing. The type of songs that make me say, “What the heck, guys?” Then there’s a particular song that made me say quietly to myself, “What the fuck, kids?”

The song kicks off with distorted violin playing and random bass plucking. Chilling voices started to sing:

Take my eyes, take them aside
Take my face, and desecrate
My arms and legs, they get in the way
And take my hands, they’ll understand
Take my heart, pull it apart
And take my brain, or what remains
And throw it all away

What the fuck kind of crazy shit is this? Of course, I started to pay attention to what my kids are listening to. The rest of the rhythm section (electric guitar and drums) joins in to rock up the eccentricity. Vocalists continue to sing:

Take my lungs, take them and run
Take my tongue, go have some fun
And take the ears, take them and disappear
And take my joints, take them for points
Take my teeth, tear through my cheeks
And take the nose, go and dispose
Oh, would you go dispose, just go dispose?

Is this some kind of dysmorphia shit? I asked my sons, “How did you guys discover this song?” YouTube, of course. The song is titled “Body” by Mother Mother. It was released in 2008 and I only heard of it recently through my kids. The lyrics are so damn depressing.

Why would you want to take away your body parts and organs? Fortunately, the singers (Ryan Guldemond with Molly Guldemond and Debra-Jean Creelman) explain in the chorus:

’Cause I’ve grown tired of this body
A cumbersome and heavy body
I’ve grown tired of this body
Fall apart without me, body

Of course we have our days when we feel like that as well. It is just an exaggerated expression, please don’t do it. If you want to do something like this, please seek help.

Hôm qua bác sĩ chỉnh hình nhi khoa đã bó hết từ cánh tay đến bàn tay của Vương. Bác sĩ không muốn nó cử động vết nứt. Tuần tới sẽ chụp x-ray lại để xem có cần làm phẫu thuật hay không.

Chuyện thật sự đau lòng. Thằng bé lớn hơn Vương hai tuổi, bế nó lên rồi quăng nó xuống. Không biết thằng bé đó có ác ý hay không nhưng việc nó làm là sai. Thế mà không một lời nhận lỗi, không một lời hỏi thăm, thậm chí, không một lời nhìn nhận. Tôi không thể ngờ có những bậc cha mẹ vô trách nhiệm, vô tâm, vô ý thức, và vô nhân đạo đến thế.

Nhưng thôi chuyện đã xảy ra tôi cũng không muốn nhắc lại. Viết xuống đây một lần để giải tỏa nỗi đau của người làm cha này. Giờ đây chỉ lo lắng cho nó kĩ càng để hy vọng khỏi phải mổ và cầu nguyện cho nó sớm bình phục.

After the kids went to bed on Saturday night, the dads kicked back at the campfire. We passed around two of my favorite Japanese whiskey bottles: Yamazaki 12 and Hibiki Master Select. Around midnight, I couldn’t keep my eyes open anymore due to the lack of sleep the previous night. I said goodbye to everyone and went back to our tent.

Despite the cold weather, Xuân was already knocked out after a full day of activities. I opened up the other sleeping bag and found Peanut, Vương’s favorite stuffed-animal dragon. The alcohol got me emotional. Vương was sleeping here last night with his mom, but they went home to sleep because Vương fractured his upper left arm. His mom and I took him to an urgent care nearby to take an x-ray. He had to wear an elbow brace to keep his arm from mobilizing.

Since his left arm was fractured, I helped him with his dinner. Suddenly, he asked me, “Daddy, do you remember the water fountain where you make a wish then toss a coin?” I replied, “Yes, son. I remember.” He asked further, “Does the wish come true?” I hesitated and asked him, “Why do you ask?” He responded, “I wish for my arm to heal.” I promised him, “Tomorrow after camping, I will take you to find a fountain. You have to heal fast so that you can learn to snowboard this season.” He replied, “Yes, I will learn to snowboard with you because you’re a good snowboard patrol.” He meant to say instructor.

As I was tossing and turning in my sleeping bag, I visualized his scrawny body, repeated his words in my mind, and wept in silence. I knew deep down he would be alright, but I couldn’t control my emotions.