Snowboarding is Clicking

After countless falls and frustrations, I am getting a hang of snowboarding. I can do the toe turn thanks to Tommie Bennett’s turning techniques. Bennett’s ultimate guide to changing edges was also helpful.

I learned to avoid catching edges by squeezing my board. When an instructor explained to me the squeezing technique last year, I didn’t understand what he meant, but I get it now. What clicked for me was that I had to remember to constantly put my weight on my front foot. Kevin Pearce’s “Slow to Fast Snowboard Turn Progression” demonstrated this technique.

Learning snowboarding is definitely harder than skiing. I fell so much that my body was immune to the pain. Out of frustration, I almost gave up, but I kept going. I thought I might be too old for snowboarding, but what I really needed was patience.

I still love skiing, but I am ready to take on the snowboarding challenge. I still have a lot to learn, but snowboarding is unlocking a whole new world for me.

47 Books Read in 2022

This year I read 47 books, 2 more than last year. I read way less nonfiction than fiction. Now that I am into novels with imaginative stories, I can’t go back reading facts. I get bored to quickly.

I read Vietnamese books (fiction and nonfiction) way less. The Fairfax Public Libraries acquired less and less each year and the collection was not engaging. I am hoping to pick up more engaging Vietnamese books so I alternate between English and Vietnamese or read them simultaneously. Switching between two languages sounds like fun.

Whether fiction or no fiction, I chose to read more Asian-American authors. I started to read poetry much more this year. Reading poetry to me is like learning a new language. Even though I know most of the words, I cannot understand the entire poem. Reading poetry reminds me of reading English when I first came to America. I just keep reading the words until I can figure out what the heck I am reading. I also created a poetry category to archive all the poems and rap lyrics I came across that I liked.

My goal for 2023 is to keep reading.

How Poems Are Made

Letting go
In order to hold on
I gradually understand
How poems are made.

There is a place the fear must go.
There is a place the choice must go.
There is a place the loss must go.
The leftover love.
The love that spills out
Of the too full cup
And runs and hides
Its too full self
In shame.

I gradually comprehend
How poems are made.
To the upbeat flight of memories.
The flagged beats of the running
Heart.

I understand how poems are made.
They are the tears
That season the smile.
The stiff-neck laughter
That crowds the throat.
The leftover love.
I know how poems are made.

There is a place the loss must go.
There is a place the gain must go.
The leftover love.

Alice Walker

Hai năm vắng mẹ

Mới đó mà hai năm đã trôi qua từ ngày mẹ lìa xa cõi đời này. Mỗi lần hình dung đến những giọt nước mắt cuối cùng của mẹ, con không thể nào kiềm chế được nỗi xót xa nghẹn ngào. Con đã không làm được gì cho mẹ trong những phút giây cuối đời của mẹ. Thậm chí con không được ở bên cạnh mẹ và để mẹ nằm cô đơn một mình trong căn phòng ICU bên máy móc rùng rợn. Những chuỗi ngày tối tăm ấy sẽ ám ảnh suốt cả cuộc đời con. Nếu như được quay ngược thời gian, con cũng không biết sẽ làm gì khác hơn. Tuy biết định mệnh không thể thay đổi nhưng con vẫn không thể chấp nhận.

Xung quanh con, hình bống của mẹ vẫn luôn hiện về. Mỗi lần con nhớ đến tuổi thơ với những hình ảnh đẹp đẽ của mẹ thì con lại đớn đau nghĩ đến mẹ nằm dưới lồng đất lạnh lẽo mỗi khi mùa đông về. Thằng con bất hiếu này đã bất lực khi mẹ gặp hoạn nạn. Tuy nhiên con biết mẹ không bao giờ trách móc con cho dù mẹ phải hy sinh cả tánh mạng. Lòng mẹ là bao la như thế. Giờ đây mẹ vẫn luôn che chở cho con qua năng lực vô hình của mẹ. Có một vài lần con bị rơi vào những tình trạng gần như tuyệt vọng, con cầu cứu mẹ và mẹ đã đưa con vượt qua mọi khó khăn.

Tuy mẹ ra đi nhưng mẹ luôn hướng về con. Mẹ vẫn phù hộ và lo lắng cho con từ bên kia thế giới. Giờ đây con vẫn chưa dứt nợ đời. Con còn quá nhiều trách nhiệm trên cõi tạm này, nhất là với gia đình của con. Đến lúc con phải ra đi, con sẽ đoàn tụ với mẹ. Mẹ giữ một nơi trên thiên đàng cho con nhé. Mãi mãi yêu thương mẹ!

My Little Xuânshine and Me

Spent all day with my little Xuânshine skiing and learning to snowboard. The condition at Whitetail was icy. We kicked off with two runs on the blue trails—neither black nor double black opened. We ate lunch and switched to snowboarding. Xuân was doing good. He could start to link his turns. He just needed a bit more patience to get past the frustrating part.

I didn’t make much progress on snowboarding today. I was still trying to figure out how to change edges without flattening my board and catching the edge. I am taking my time and trying to be patient with snowboarding. I still have a lot to learn, but I can control my board and my speed. My goal is to get my torsional twists down.

I had a fantastic bonding time with Xuân. With four kids, I find spending time alone with just one—once in a while—to be meaningful. I am glad that he decided to spend a whole day with me on the mountains rather than to spend on his digital devices. His brothers chose the latter. They rather played on their computer than went skiing and snowboarding. Of course, it would be fun to go with the whole family, but I was happy hanging out with my little Xuânshine. He has so much strength and energy for a six-year-old boy.

Digging Snowboarding

We went back to Liberty for the first time this season. It only had a few green and blue trails. I spent four hours on the bunny slope and the green trail to learn snowboarding. I figured out how to do the toe turn. Even though I still caught the edges occasionally, I was able to put together the “S” turn.

Snowboarding is started to click. My next goal is to make my “S” turns narrower and link my turns smoother. I still have a lot to learn, but I am starting to dig snowboarding. Of course I won’t give up skiing. I still love skiing, but I just want to challenge myself with snowboarding.

Our Last Night in Vermont

We didn’t hit the slopes today because it had rained all day. After skiing for five days straight, we needed a day off to rest and relax before heading back home tomorrow.

Yesterday, Đạo asked his mom and me what was the best vacation we ever had. My wife couldn’t come up with anything at the moment, and I told him, “This is it.” I was having the best time of life enjoying the winter sports and hanging around my love ones. What more could I ask for? I treasured the time we spent together because no one knew how long we could stay on this earth. I don’t want to wait until my clock runs out. I want to take advantage of the time I have with my family. I love my wife and kids too much.

I hope they enjoyed their time with me as well. Anyway, here’s a short video of our trip at Okemo.

Don’t Warm Up Your Car in the Winter

Erin Jones and Mauricio Chamberlin Verify:

Yes, warming up your car before driving in cold weather could cause long-term damage to the engine. Most vehicles built after 1980 no longer need to warm up before driving, and experts say driving after 30 seconds to a minute after starting your car is a best practice.

Good to know.

Morgan Parker: Other People’s Comfort Keeps Me Up at Night

“Morgan What, Morgan Who?” You can’t knock a poet who plays off Jay-Z. “Boys, Boys, Boys” is another riff on Hov’s classic. Parker’s poems have the cadance, the muse, and the audacity. I enjoyed her debut collection, including the shortest piece, “Young, Sassy, and Black”:

I use these words
to distract you.

Rio Cortez: Golden Ax

In her collection of autobiographical poems, Cortez tells the story of Afrofrontierism. She reflects on her enslaved family and her own experience. The history and the poetry are way over my head, but I enjoyed what I could grasp. “Black Lead in a Nancy Meyers Film,” she writes:

Aging, at all. I want that. And to fall
perhaps most honestly in love
beside the ocean, in a home I’ve paid
for by doing as I like: drinking good
wine, dusting sugar over a croissant, or
the stage play I’m writing myself into.
Aging Black woman in neutral summer
turtleneck. Known. And jogging. Lonesome
enough. Eating homemade lavender
ice cream, the moon blooming
through the kitchen window. The distant
sound of waves. Learning
French as a second language.
Votre pâte merveilleux, I smile back.
And then, just like that! Falling, cautiously,
for my busy, middle-aged lover,
who needs me, but has never truly seen me
until now. Our Black friends, celebrating
with hors d’oeuvres. Our Black children,
growing older.

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