I hate to admit it, but the quality of my own blog has been slipping. Blogging is no longer exciting like it used to be and being a father makes blogging no longer a priority. As Cong Dao is growing, so is his demand. He sucks up so much energy for such as little fellow. Try to spend an evening with him at the playground or the mall and you’ll see what I mean. By the time he goes to bed, I am also burnt. Trying to blog half beat and half sleepy doesn’t seem to cut it. I used to be able to blog during my commute to work, but now I spend that little amount of time catching up some sleep. Thanks to Starbucks’s fifty-cent refill, I go through my day with two venti cups of French Vanilla ice coffee. One in the morning and one at 2:30pm.

I am not complaining at all because there is nothing I rather want to do more then spending time with Cong Dao. I have so much fun just seeing him discovering new things everyday. I want to blog about our experience, but if I do’t do it right away, it will slip away. Each day goes by and he had learned so many new things that I simply lose track and don’t want write about it at all.

Beside Cong Dao, writing about music, Vietnamese in particular, has been my passion for this blog. I got into music critique because the music excited me and I wanted to share my thoughts. Back then many singers such as Tuan Ngoc, Thanh Lam, Hong Nhung, Thu Phuong, Nguyen Khang, Tung Duong, Ngoc Khue, Duc Tuan rocked my world. With each new release, there was something new to look forward to. For the past two years, it seems like the music scene either stands still or just so much mediocre. I don’t feel good writing negative reviews most of the time. It just makes me feel like an asshole making fun of the singers’ work.

The music has become absolutely uninspiring. Dam Vinh Hung won some golden album is a perfect example. I was going to blog about this over the weekend before they announced the winner, but I had other things to do. Not that I really care about some worthless award, but it came no surprise to me that Dam Vinh Hung’s horrendous Nhung Bai Ca Khong Quen beats Le Quyen’s classy Khuc Tinh Xua. In fact, I already predicted the outcome when I first read about it in the news. Musically speaking, Le Quyen blows out Dam Vinh Hung like Ly Tong blew pepper spray in his face. It’s a no brainer at all. Even though I only listened to Dam Vinh Hung’s Nhung Bai Ca Khong Quen, he included enough “red” tunes in the double album to guarantee himself an award. It’s not about music. It’s all about politics.

Anyway, my focus for this site will be changed. The blog is no longer a priority. I will be concentrating on web design and development. HTML5, CSS3 and jQuery are the things that get me exciting. I would like to revamp this site completely when I am done with my client work. For now I just need to take a break and hang out with my little guy. Nothing gets me more exciting than going up and down the escalator with Cong Dao. This little fellow has no fear at all when it comes to step on and off the escalator. In fact, he is intrigued with it.

Our first gig for Simplexpression did well at the 40th Annual Festival of the Leaves.

Since it was our first time, we didn’t really expect much. We would be happy even if we were to sell five items. Fortunately, we sold way beyond our expectation even though some of our competitors only sell items that were a fraction of our price. In addition, we only had a very limited collection. In fact, our display was so simple and spare that one of the customers asked, “Is this all you have?”

We only showcased a handful of selected pieces, but they stood out. The compliments were mostly “simple,” “beautiful” and “elegant.” We also sold quite a bit of our classic designs from our original web site. Big props to my sister-in-law for helping us out. She was great at creating the displays and greeting the customers. Thanks to Duke too for being such a good boy. He enjoyed the parade and running around our booth saying hi to our customers. I spent most of my time looking after him.

Of course, the show wouldn’t succeed without the creative designer who handcrafted these beautiful pieces late at nights. I am very proud of her and her work. I had fun and I am looking forward to future festivals.

In the introduction of Miles On Miles, a book that complies Miles Davis’s interviews, Paul Maher Jr. and Michael K. Dorr point out Miles’s favorite word:

“He plays like a motherfucker,” “my band is a bunch of motherfuckers,” “those guys are dirty motherfuckers,” “my legs hurt like a motherfucker during that tour,” “she’s a fine motherfucker.”

In an interview with John Palcewski, Miles offered his solution to end the Vietnam War:

“What we gotta do is draft all the bitches under twenty-five and send them over there. All kind of tough-lookin’ white bitches, with all that clean, white skin and blonde hair and big tits. When these cats read in the paper that a hundred of them get killed by the Viet Cong, the whole thing will be over in a day.”

Miles sure was something else.

After five years on sabbatical, Miles Davis made a comeback in 1980 and continued to create controversial music until his death in 1991. In The Last Miles, George Cole spent almost 450 pages covering every track from The Man With The Horn all the way up to Doo-Bop. Cole interviewed musicians who worked with Miles and quoted critics who had written about Miles. While Cole’s focused and thorough research makes The Last Miles informative and insightful, particularly Tutu, which alone takes up four chapters of the book, his lacking of “definitive assessment” makes a weak case for Miles’s final decade. Cole informed us both sides of the controversy, but hardly from the author’s point of view. Perhaps Cole is being too respectful of Miles music?

The Prince of Darkness cast his dark, mysterious spell on the compelling soundtrack of Louis Malle’s Ascenseur Pour L’Echafaud (Lift to the Scaffold). Backing up by drummer Kenny Clarke and solid French jazzmen, Miles improvised as the film being showed on screen. “Dîner Au Motel” displayed Mile’s exceptional, hard-swing bebop licks on muted trumpet, but the real deals are the slow, sensual scores, like “Générique,” that were perfect for film noir’s mood. Check out this scene.

Every morning you would say “George” when I sat you down for breakfast. You started to watch Curious George when grandma was taken care of you. What hooked me into Curious George is the incorporation of jazz. The episode that caught my attention was the one in which George and the dog were lost and they used their ears to find their way back. They remembered passing by the busker who was blowing his trumpet so they would listen that sound to figure out where they were at. Another episode was a band demonstrated the technique of singing at different tempos (from half time to double time). Another favorite episode of mine was the one George joined the family Latin band. He had to go around looking for a place for the band to play.

Yes, you pulled me into George and we could sit and watch him all day, but the conflict in schedule had prevent us from watching our favorite show. Still, I love it when I make the monkey sound “Uh uh ah ah” and you would repeat “ah ah.”

Today Eric, my little nephew, turns seven. We spent some time together over the weekend and I am very pleased with the new changes I have noticed. I was worried about him a lot up to this point. Eric didn’t talk much and he threw tantrum around like a mad kid. Because he couldn’t communicate, he easily got frustrated. He listened to no one and he was always in his own world. He would zone you out as if you don’t even exist when you tried to talk to him. He got really mad when things didn’t go his way. Eric was a bright kid, but he only did things he liked.

Until recently I started to see the changes in him. He is opening himself up and he interacting more with other people. I asked him to read something to me and he did. I am not sure when he started to learn how to read, but I begged him before and couldn’t get a word out of his mouth. I remember my sister used to chased him down with a stick in order to get him to brush his teeth. Now he just does it on his own. He even showed Duke how to do it. I used him as a model and Duke let me brushed him without fussing. Being a big cousin, Eric shows his responsibility. I gave him a test by telling him to look after Duke. I pretended to read so I could observed him with Duke. He actually played with Duke and showed Duke things that he likes to do like cooking and cars. Duke did everything Eric did. When we were at the Borders, Eric picked up a ball and so was Duke. Whenever Duke held on to something, he would scream if we just snatch it from him. He was holding on to a pen and non of us (Dana, Samantha and me) could get him to give us the pen. Eric pulled out his hand and asked for it and Duke gave it to him. It was a joy watching the two of them playing together.

It looks like Duke already have a great cousin to play with and to learn from. Thanks for being such a great kid, Eric. Happy birthday!

My current emotion could be summed in Elton John’s lyrics: “It’s a sad, sad situation / And it’s getting more and more absurd / It’s sad, so sad / Why can’t we talk it over?” The situation looks pathetic as if we’re getting the pleasure out of destructing each other. How the fuck did we get to this point? It feels like I am witnessing my own blood dripping away and there is not a damn thing I could do to stop it. Now all I can do is hoping that time would heal the wound. Until then, I am emotionally wrecked.

Our trip to the zoo was cancelled due to the rain. We headed to the mall instead. We stopped at Barnes & Noble first so you could have the whole train table for yourself before other kids arrived. When we were there, however, three kids and their mothers already in the kid section. Like us, the rain had also ruined their plans.

Before you joined in, only the four-year-old boy at the train table and he had about five or six cars at one side of the table. You came in at the other side and only picked up one car and it happened to be one of the oldest and most beat-up cars on the track. Still the four-year-od ran over and claimed it. His mom taught him a lesson on sharing and she did a wonderful job. The boy didn’t listen so she took him home. They negotiated before she allowed him back in. He could only play with four cars. He picked the four new and fancy cars while you were still hanging on your old train. Another boy and girl joined the table and there were around three or three and a half. The three year-old-boy tried to snatch your car, but you held on tight to it and didn’t let go. His mom didn’t say nothing. He went over to the girl and snatch hers. The girl fought back and the push and shove occurred. At this point, the boy’s mom ran over to break them up. The girl’s mom were browsing at the books heard her daughter’s voice so she ran over. She made her apologize to the boy even though she didn’t do anything wrong. She obeyed her mom and said “I am sorry.” She even got a two-minute time out. I felt bad for her. On the other corner, the four-year-old boy was being nice and shared a new, fancy car with you, but you just held on to that old, beat-up car.

After sensing the boredom from you, I took you to the indoor playground, which was packed. The funny thing was that most of the kids who entered the playground took off their shoes, but the parents were walking around with shoes on. You didn’t like the playground much. Was it too crowded or you weren’t in the mood for it? You just kept walking out to the train station. I assumed that you wanted to ride the train so I bought two tickets and off we went. The driver drove us around the circle two times then dropped us off and picked up the next patrons. I can’t even imagine driving that train in the circle all day. Not sure how the guy does it.

We went to the food court for lunch. After checking all the different types of food, we went for Chinese. I thought you might like fried rice, but you didn’t. You made a huge mess, but didn’t eat much. By noon, both of us already bored with the train table and the playground so the only thing left to do was heading home. I gave you a bottle of milk and you only drank half before fallen asleep. I parked the car, but didn’t take you inside the house. The rain was still heavy so I didn’t want to wake you up or get you wet so we stayed in the car. I listened to Miles Davis and read The Last Miles while you were sleeping. I am as obsessed with Miles as much as you’re obsessed with milk. I got tired and dozed off as well.

You got up two hours later and we went into the house. I took you to bed and let you finish the left over bottle. Once you were done, you handed me the bottle and said, “more.” How could I say no too that even though mom told me not to give you too much milk so you could eat? You didn’t go back to sleep nor you wanted to eat. I thought we could do something productive together so we did laundry and cleaned the house. Your curiosity motivated me to spend time with you as well as getting something done around the house. Thanks for being such a helpful kid.

Taking you to school each the morning has been quite a pleasure experience. You push the buttons to open the doors. You swipe my card to check us in. You smile at the guard and the front desk lady. You greet Ms Tam, your wonderful Vietnamese teacher when she says, “Hi con!” You come to her and blow me kisses goodbye.

Yesterday, mommy took you in because I had to carry your box of diaper along with your lunch and milk. The result was that you cried and hung on to her. You didn’t want to let go. I took you to class today and again no crying. Mommy and I were joking in the car saying that kids don’t lie and you sure show who you love more. Your mom is very proud and touched by your affection for her.

Your school will be closed again tomorrow and Friday. I will take a vacation day tomorrow to be with you and I am looking forward to it. We should do something fun. Let’s hit the zoo. What do you think? Can you say “zoo”?