In his latest Netflix Special, Tom Segura continues with his dark sense of humor. He makes jokes out of shameful, cringeful materials. It is not easy to make uncomfortable content funny and Segura pulls it off with ease. He is so good at telling stories that I have a feeling that he is perfecting the art of storytelling than believing in his own stories.
Yesterday Vương started the Bridge to Kindergarten program to help him make the transition from home to school. Since Vương hadn’t been to daycare, I was surprised that he didn’t cling to his mom or cried when we dropped him off on the first day.
Đạo and Đán resumed their daily writing after a week-long vacation. Xuân resumed swimming competition last evening. Even though he hadn’t practiced the entire time while we were on vacation, he came first on backstroke.
After the competition, Đạo wanted Thai food. We went to 703 Thai Cuisine. Đán ordered a dish called “Crying Tiger Steak,” which came with steamed vegetables and sticky rice. When the food came, Xuân asked to try some steak, but Đán didn’t want to share. I asked him to give Xuân a thin slice to try, but he got mad. He handed over the whole plate and said, “Just take the whole thing and I will have instant noodle later. I replied to him, “If that’s what you want, it’s fine with me.” I wanted to teach him a lesson about sharing.
My wife flipped out and wanted to leave. Xuân cried and begged her to stay. She stayed but didn’t touch her food. The fiasco was childish. We couldn’t even have a nice meal together as a family.
Kevin Sun is a virtuosic saxophonist and a fine composer. As a leader, he leaves plenty of space for his accomplishments and only plays when he finds the right time. “Internal Choruses” is an example of his saxophone blazing in and improvising. His pianist shines on “From the Unseen Center (1) & (2).” From All This Stillness is a captivating modern jazz album. I will spend more time with it for a while.
While vacationing at Wildwood with my family last week, I woke up at 6:00 AM every morning to rollerblade on the boardwalk before everyone else woke up. I skated with my three-wheel YF YouFu. They were a bit bumpy the first day, but I quickly got used to them. I skated about three miles each day. I loved the morning breeze as well as the time to myself. I would love for my kids to join me, but they didn’t want to wake up early. They also preferred biking on the boardwalk.
While spending time at the beach, I was dreaming of skiing and snowboarding. I missed the snow. I still snowboard in my basement each day to learn my stances and my edges. I came across a clip from Thrive Snowboards showing how to ride on the steep slopes. I can’t wait to try out the techniques. I received my Epic pass for next year already. Let’s hope for lots of snow in the coming winter.
The summer is not even over yet, and I already am looking forward to the winter. The grass is always greener on the other side.
Năm nay đi Wildwood chỉ có gia đình chúng tôi với bà ngoại tụi nhỏ. Thiếu hai gia đình anh và chị vợ nên không nhộn nhịp như mọi năm. Ngược lại thì chỉ chăn 4 thằng thay vì 8 thằng. Vì muốn tụi nó không dùng điện tử nên không đem theo iPads. Hai thằng nhỏ thì chỉ xem TV lúc cả nhà nghỉ ngơi. Hai thằng lớn không đem iPad nhưng lại có phone. Tụi nó không thể rời khỏi phone được.
Cũng như thường lệ, thời khóa biểu gồm có ăn sáng, đạp xe, chơi arcade, ăn trưa, tắm biển, ăn tối, rồi đi ngủ. Mỗi buổi sáng tôi tranh thủ dậy sớm đi rollerblading trên boardwalk trước khi cả nhà dậy ăn sáng. Đó là lúc thời gian được riêng tư của tôi. Chiều chiều tôi rủ bọn nhỏ đi skatepark sau khi đi tắm biển nhưng không đứa nào chịu cả nên tôi đi một mình.
Những lúc không đi tắm biển, chúng tôi đi hái trái cây, đi skatepark ở Sea Isle City, và đi Atlantic City. Chúng tôi chỉ ra ngoài ăn trưa hai lần. Một lần ăn sushi ($180) và một lần ăn nhà hàng Việt ($120). Còn mấy bữa ăn khác do vợ nấu. Đán cũng làm những món khoai tây chiên. Bây giờ ra ngoài ăn tốn kém quá.
Trưa thứ sáu trước ngày về cả hòn đảo bị cúp điện. Thay vì cuốn gói đi về, chúng tôi kéo qua Atlantic City chơi. Chiều về vẫn không có điện. Tối thứ sáu nóng nực vô cùng nên cũng khó ngủ. Thứ bảy lúc chúng tôi dọn dẹp trả nhà vẫn chưa có điện.
Dù vậy nhưng một tuần lễ bên vợ con như vậy là may mắn rồi. Tôi không xem xét gì về công việc cả. Mọi việc để tuần sau lo. Không như ngày xưa đi nghỉ mát phải lo lắng đến công việc.
I enjoy Jones’s personal poems. I appreciate his openness on racism and same-sex experiences, but I find the connection with him on the grief for his mother. Reading “Saeed, How Dare You Make Your Mother into a Prelude” and “The Dead Dozens” makes me miss my mother so bad. I loved this collection.
If could, and I bet I could, hell-I know I could
write a song that killed anyone who tried
to wrap their throat around it. I’m writing the first
verse right now, riding the rhythm like your mama
straddling the preacher while your daddy looks on
with a mouth full of every moan he can’t have.
Ain’t that what you really want? A stadium full
of white people screaming your stage name
and a smashed guitar where your dick used to be.
Ain’t that what you deserve? God is the only reason
I haven’t already held you down and spat the hook
into your mouth like a poison that will kill us both.
Saeed Jones
Your grief is so heavy,
when we lowered the coffin,
all the pallbearers fell in too.
Your grief is so heavy,
when you cried your last good-bye, the end
of the world said “nigga, get off me!”
You love your mama so much,
Freud came back from the dead
just to study your sorry ass.
You love your mama so much,
when she died, our mamas died too
Some of our favorite aunties caught strays.
I miss you so much,
I don’t even use the word “hello” anymore.
Now, I greet everyone with “good-bye.”
I miss you so much,
sometimes I go to strangers’ funerals
and eulogize your ghost.
Your ghost cries so loud
our ancestors keep haunting me
to complain about the noise.
Your ghost cries so loud
I took my Black ass to a Klan rally
for some candle-lit peace and quiet.
Saeed Jones
I am looking forward to reading books written by Vietnamese authors:
And then, night neons itself inside me and I begin missing you in loud new ways:
The sky burns itself bright then bruises black. Things fall from the sky and those things might be water but could just as well be boys or bombs or billionaires or birds. Honestly, between your death and me, it doesn’t matter or I don’t know or I wasn’t looking or I couldn’t see because I’ve made a home out of how much I miss you and there’s no one here to tell me I should leave.
Alone and night-neoned, I write read drink drug grieve and all America keeps teaching me is that there are so many ways to die in America which, frankly, is qwhite confusing because this country killed you a decade ago and I’m still writing reading drinking drugging grieving binging binging blacking out in the cozy, claustrophobic home I’ve made out of how very, very much I miss you and the sky keeps throwing down consequences and corrections and histories and nations, I mean, come on, who can blame me for not wanting to go back outside? You? A whole decade ghosted, grounded and ground down into unreliable memories, dollar-word metaphors? No, not you, mother as mortar and pestle, mother as son mangling meaning out of his mother’s misfortune, mother as second draft: sorry, but it’s awfully true: you are prelude, and your progeny, loud and unrelenting in your epilogue, somehow has to live on as your last sentence, uncompleted.
Saeed Jones