USELESS INFORMATION

Perhaps I should change the title of this entry to Interesting Information. However, I would probably be the only one who thinks the information is interesting while others consider what I am about to share in this entry is useless.

Round 2 of the Stanley Cup started last week. Instead of making any predictions (I usually jinx the teams by cheering for them), so I will write about a few interesting facts about hockey players, complete with their jersey number and how many stitches on their face (just kidding).

At 45 years old Chris Chelios (#24) of the Detroit Red Wings is the oldest defenseman to play in the Stanley Cup Playoffs. The oldest player ever compete in this physical sport was Gordie Howe "Mr. Hockey" who was still playing at 52 years old. The youngest player in this playoffs is Jordan Staal (#11) of Pittsburgh Penguins. With all the media coverage, I thought the most youthful player was Sidney Crosby. This week, Staal was named one of the three finalists of the Calder Memorial Trophy for outstanding rookie.

There are two set of twin brothers, Henrik Lundqvist (#30) the goalie of the New York Rangers and his brother, Joel (#39) playing center for the Dallas Stars. The other twin are Daniel (#22) the left wing and Henrik (#33) Sedin, playing center for the Vancouver Canucks. The Niedermayer brothers (not twin), Rob (#44) center and Scott (#27) defenseman, got their wishes to play on the same team for Anaheim Mighty Ducks after the New Jersey Devils defeated the Ducks in Game 7 of the 2005 Stanley Cup. Hot off the press - the Mighty Ducks won game 5 and eliminated the Canucks last night.

A few last names that sound like good characters for a children book, Cheechoo, Ruutu and Tootoo. Jonathan Cheechoo (#14) a right winger for the San Jose Sharks, Jarkko Ruutu (#37) left wing for Pittsburgh Penguins and Jordin Tootoo (#22) right wing of the Nashville Predators.

How about Miroslav Satan (#81) right winger of the New York Islanders (was with the Buffalo Sabres). Satan is a native of Topolcany, Czechoslovakia. Satan is pronounced as "Sar ten", not "Sat'n". With a name like this, you would think Satan should play for the New Jersey Devils!

The majority of the players are from Canada, Russia, Sweden, Czechoslovakia and Eastern European countries. There is only one player from Seoul, South Korean, Richard Park (#10) a right winger with the New York Islanders. Paul Kariya (#9) left winger of the Nashville Predators is Asian-Canadian.

You probably want to know who my favorite players are. Of course, Steve Yzerman is #1 on my list, following by more Red Wings players - Chris Osgood (#30) goalie, Da New Captain Nickolas Lidstrom (#5) defenseman, Henrik Zettenberg (#40) left wing and #13 Pavel Datsyuk, center. Datsyuk was named one of the three finalists for the Lady Bying Memorial Trophy, an award given to players who displayed sportsmanship and gentlemanly conducts.

If I have one wish, I would like to see the Red Wings re-sign Slava Kozlov (#13) back from Atlanta Thrashers. Another wish would be a job as an announcer with the Canadian Broadcasting, that would be a dream come true, watching hockey, talking about the games and getting paid for doing what I love.

RECYCLING IN ST. LOUIS

My brother came back from a two-week trip to Hong Kong and China. I was so thankful for the technology that allows us to somewhat keep in touch by a few brief email messages and short entries in VL's blog. I was happy to read the email that my brother arrived safely, half way around the world, in China and followed his vacation from cyberspace. I am very proud to introduce to my adoring fans my brother's blog, http://qaptainqwerty.blogspot.com. There are many interesting stories about VL's recent trip and of course, other entries about the World Greatest Qaptain Qwerty.

The entry VL posted about recycling in China showing a photo of public trash receptacle with separate containers for recyclables and non-recyclables was written the same week Earth Day was celebrated at Forest Park in St. Louis. It takes a person with environmental mind like my brother to notice plastic containers for the purpose of collecting used batteries.

I am not a committed conservationist. I do try to recycle paper at the office and at home, plastic bottles, newspapers, and other acceptable items listed on the side of the containers. At work, we usually provide soda, water bottles and snacks at committee meetings. I put a sign, in large bold print, with arrows pointing, right above the bins, "For soda cans and water bottles". Somehow no one read the sign nor saw the bin because the soda cans and water bottles were thrown into the trash can next to the bin. I also gave up on recycle bins for the papers because trash was also thrown into the bins.

The organizer reported that 2007 Earth Day celebration was twice as big as last year and perhaps the largest gathering ever, thanks in part to the beautiful sunny day. The hybrid cars drew a lot of attention. Participants took part in various events such as tai chi, children making toys from earth friendly materials, getting ideas on recycling and St. Louis Zoo offered lectures encouraging people to be more aware of wildlife in their own backyard.

Lately I began using washable napkins instead of paper napkins at meal times. It saves money and not adding to the landfill. I finally found a solution for collecting cans at work, I placed a different trash can and a sign on the lid in large bold print "Soda Cans and Bottles Only". I usually read articles for ideas on recycling and earth friendly items. However, let me make it clear that I will not give up on the double-ply toilet tissues. I paid my dues in the seven months living in the refugee camp. I refuse to go back to the "primitive" way when it comes to this necessity.

PRAYERS FOR HEALING

I have not been able to update my blog since last Monday. The new entry I plan to write became so trivia after the terrible event took place at Virginia Tech. I could not imagine the pains the families of the 32 individuals whose lives were ended so suddenly. I could only imagine the wounds so deep in their hearts, a million times over compared to the passing of my Dad. It is not my intention to make light of the passing of my Dad or anyone who suffered long term illnesses. It is especially so tragic when parents buried their children, most painfully the way their promising future were taken away in this manner.

There was no shortage of experts or people who parade on talk shows with their analysis of "should have, could have, should be, would be". I don't have anything to add to the discussion. Personally, I have thought what if I was the parent of the gunman, could I prevent the killing? Would I be able to see that he would become a killer? How would I as a mother overcome the pains and regrets that I gave life to a child with a devil heart?

There is a Vietnamese saying, "Cha me sinh con, khong the sinh long". As father and mother, you could only give life (birth) to the child but you could not know what the child will grow up to be (what will be in the child's heart).

I am not the only viewer who shut off the television when the media kept showing notes and video (sent to the network prior to the shooting) of the gunman final words. I became sicken when people began to exploit this terrible incident for their own gains as if what they say or do will in anyway lessen the pains inflicted on the families.

As an individual, I could only offer my prayers of healing to all the families and to our nation. The idea came to me after watching a special feature on the network, listing all 32 people who were killed, their names and who they were - a father, a mother, a son and a daughter. I began to repeat their names, imagine that they were my neighbors, my friends, my child, and not just a list of names in the mechanical television report.

Before church service, I quietly read the name of each person, praying for the repose of their souls, lifting their families up to God for healing, God's hand over the wounds in their hearts. To the families, including the family of the gunman, I offer my prayers of healing.

HAPPY ANNIVERSARY, MOM & DAD

April 15, 2007 would have been my parents' 49th Wedding Anniversary. Mom told me one time that it was easy to remember their anniversary since living in America no one could forget that April 15th was also the deadline for filing income tax returns. Of course, when my parents got married, the date was chosen by an expert who consulted his astrological charts, checking compatibility of the birth dates of the groom and bride to-be to ensure a long lasting happy marriage. Families dead ancestors were also consulted through prayers and living relatives in high authority positions were also paid respect to and for their approval.

Like many marriages during that time, my parents' marriage was arranged by someone who was respected and knew both parents from business circle. The marriage was arranged but not forced. My maternal grandparents were business owners and respected in the village. There were many matchmakers already inquiried about their youngest and only daughter. My Mom was an attractive young lady combined with her parents' wealth explained the long list of many suitors.

After the initial contact by a business acquaintance who was also a well-known matchmaker, my paternal grandfather (A Cung) made a visit from Cau Ngang (my Dad's birthplace) to my maternal grandfather (Che Cung) in Cau Tau Ha (Mom's birthplace). A month or so, another meeting was arranged, this time my Dad came along. The first time Mom saw Dad was when she was asked to serve tea to A Cung, Dad and other guests as an informal face to face introduction. Mom said that she was so nervous that when she put the teapot down in front of Dad, she almost slammed the teapot on the table.

Later, Mom's parents (Che Cung & Che Pho) asked Mom whether she liked Dad and whether she would agree to marry him. Mom knew she was not forced and could refuse the arrangement. Fortunately for Dad, Mom responded that it was up to her parents. Che Cung mentioned that he had consulted others about Dad's family, his characters and based on Dad's facial features, he thought Dad would be a loving husband and a good father. Che Cung said that he did not pay attention to the fact that Dad's family wealth was not of the same level. His only concern was finding a husband who would be faithful and loving to his only daughter.

After the engagement was announced, Dad would visit Mom every other month during his business trips. They would go for a walk or to the park, not alone but with two elderly ladies following and keeping watch. There was no such thing as "roadside kissing" or drive-in movie, Talk about the big difference compared to what takes place in today's society regarding relationships and marriages. Mom still remembered the poems Dad wrote to her and the long letters she sent back each week.

The wedding was a three-day celebration with lot of relatives, and guests from both families attended. In the traditional setting, the groom's family took care of all the expense for the wedding and presented gifts to the bride's family. Normally the bride would live with the in-laws after the wedding. I have to ask Mom the reason why Dad live with her parents' family instead. There were many people who came to the wedding with gifts of expensive items and money to show respect and to express their gratitute for the help Che Cung had assisted them over the years.

An idea just came to me that I should write an entry comparing my wedding in America to my parents', where as mine had all the typical fanfares such as bridal shower, my husband' bachelor party, the sharing of expense of the wedding, and the traditional church service.

My favorite story was that as part of the wedding celebration, Che Cung gave a large sum of money to build a school in the village. The principal wanted to name the school after Che Cung and he refused. Talk about being a true humanitarian and modesty.

Three years later I came along. Then CH, TL and finally VL. Thanks, Che Cung for your choice of selecting the loving and faithful husband for Mom and a great father for us. From the humble home in Viet Nam, to the journey seeking freedom in the open sea, to the little hut in the refugee camp, to the new land in America, each step we took towards a good life, Dad was there with us, providing and caring the best way he could. Happy Anniversary, Mom & Dad. Thank you, Dad, for all you did for us.

CULTURE SHOCK

By coincidence that I saw a book entitled, Culture Shock! A Survival Guide to Customs and Etiquette by Esther Wanning. The author explained that the book provides necessary information to help anyone who experiences cultural shock with hints and tips to make their lives as normal as possible. Cultural shock is defined as "a state of disorientation" that overcomes a person who has been thrust into unknown surroundings when they move to a new country.

I thought how nice it would have been if I was given this book when I first arrived in New York. I would settled in with the greatest of ease, knowing all about dos and don'ts and understood the behaviors of the people around me. But wait, how could I make use of the book since I did not know the English language? As if reading my mind, the author wrote on page 188, "You (the reader) presumably speak English well or you wouldn't be reading this book." Too bad if you don't speak English well, or not at all, trying to survive in the new country, especially in New York City, good luck (my post script)!

I learned quickly different ways people say hello or extend greetings, "What's up?", "How you've been?", "What's news?", "What's going on?" etc., all have the same meaning as the question "How are you?". Also, when someone said, "How are you?", they did not really want to know how I was and the appropriate polite, yet short response should be, "I am fine. Thank you."

More than twenty years later, I am still not comfortable addressing someone who is considerably older or in high position, by first name. My professors at Saint Louis University could not understand why I was the only graduate student who addressed them as "Dr. Anderson" or "Professor Scott". Call me old fashion, I am dismayed and could not accept young people, particularly children, calling adults by their first names. (RJS (February 19, 2007 entry) would confirm that to this day I would not address him by his first name.)

From the co-workers of my early days in America, I learned about "the long weekend" or the three-day weekends, when we all got a day off either on Friday or the Monday on major federal holidays such as Memorial Day, Fourth of July, Labor Day, Thanksgiving and Christmas. I noticed how people would stand around telling each other about the trips they took or how they enjoyed the days off and did not start to get any work done until almost noon.

I learned to say "Thank You" when someone complimented how nice I look or about my pretty new shirt/shoes. And when someone said "Thank You", I should say "You're Welcome" and not "It was nothing" or "I did not do anything". It took me a long time to join in the celebration when a co-worker celebrated her birthday. I could not understand why the person had to announce to the entire office or making sure that everyone knew and wished her happy birthday.

One of the funny thing I still remember to this day was my misunderstanding of an expression that was truly American. The first time a person said to me "Would you go to bat for me?" when he requested an order to be shipped the next day, I thought he said, "Would you go to bed with me?" I was so shocked. I handed the phone over to a co-worker. Later, I told MC, a trusted friend, after MC explained to me what the expression was, we had a good laugh for a few days.

More about my culture shock in future entries, for now, I am proud to say I have survived and have come a long way since my early days in America.

NHL PLAYOFFS - ROUND 1

I have been checking the Detroit Red Wings website for their playoffs schedule. As of this afternoon, it only listed Calgary Flames as the opponent for Round 1 of the 2007 Stanley Cup playoffs. The exact dates for the games are not yet determined. Most likely the Red Wings will have home ice advantage as the best team in Western Conference. Since last week, I have been actually cheering for Buffalo Sabres to win all the regular season games so that they will receive the President's Trophy for being the team with the most win in the League. The last few years the Red Wings suffered the curse of the Trophy as it was eliminated and did not make it pass Round 1.

The title of this entry could also be "Why I love hockey?". I love hockey because I admire the skills of the players, the physical demand, the coordination (eyes-hands-feet) while speeding around the ice, knowing exactly where your teammates are and the accuracy of the puck being passed at the right angle, the rebounds and the savings. My favorite players are the goalies because they are in a very special position and they don't get the credit they deserved. When the team won, the players who scored the goals got all the credits. When the team lost, the fans blamed the goalie for allowing the pucks to get by. The goalies are special because they are crazy to try stopping the pucks flying at the speed that could crack not just human bones but could shatter a brick wall. Ok, I exagerated, but you must be a real hockey fan to appreciate my passion for the game.

I remember a childhood friend of my father came to New York for a visit in 1988. He was sponsored by his children and lived in Canada for a few years. Somehow he became a fanatic to the sport that he spent half of the time watching hockey instead of sighseeing. Come to think of it, it probablly was the Stanley Cup playoffs. My Dad could not understand what happened to his friend who had the same passion for soccer when they were kids, had turned into a fanatic for a different kind of sport.

Last weekend when we discussed our vacation for this year, I mentioned to my husband that before I turn 70 years old, I want to see all the home games of all 30 NHL teams. So far I have only been to Joe Louis Arena (Detroit Red Wings), Scotttrade (St. Louis Blues) and recently saw the Nashville Predators. My vacation plan for this year will include my first trip to the Hockey Hall of Fame in Toronto, Canada. I also hope to include a Maple Leafs game when we are there.

I would love to be in the audience when Steve Yzerman, Da Captain of the Detroit Red Wings, be inducted into the Hall of Fame. In my office, above my computer, in a prominent spot, is a photo of Yzerman, his eyes focused, the intensity, the determination, I could see Yzerman flying on the ice, passing the pucks back and forth, setting up the play, and at the right moment, made accurate decision to go top shelf, out of reach of the goalie's glove or to go low and scored through the fifth hole.

I would like to start with attending home games of the original six - Boston Bruins, Chicago Blackhaws, Detroit Red Wings (done), Montreal Canadiens, New York Rangers and Toronto Maple Leafs. Next will be the other Canadian teams - Calgary Flames, Edmonton Oilers, Ottawa Senators, and Vancouver Canucks. Midwest, Southwest and East coast teams are next on the list. Because of the distance and the expense, I will leave the West coast teams last on the list.

Why I love hockey? Because hockey is similar to living - the game is fast, it requires focus, mental and physical strength, no allowance for distraction, eyes-hands-feet must be 100% coordinated, never lose sight of the puck (objective), knowing where your teammates as well as opponents are, making split-second decision without the luxury of correction, knowing when to capitalize on others' mistakes and knowing when to shoot and making calculation of where the puck would have the most chance to pass the goalie.

The Red Wings finally listed their Round 1 playoffs schedule. I plan to schedule my activities around all the games broadcasted on American networks. Unfortunately, I have work commitment on Wednesday (Canucks vs. Stars - Game 1), church group meeting on Thursday ( Red Wings vs. Flames - Game 1) and Cardinals baseball game on Sunday (Red Wings - Game 2). I could record the games and do my best to avoid all human contacts, not listen to radio, not watching television nor reading newspaper until after I watched the recorded games. Or I could move to Canada. NHL Playoffs - it is the most exciting time in the sport world. Let's the games begin - Go Wings!

APRIL SHOWERS BRING MAY FLOWERS

In keeping with the theme, I thought the saying, April showers bring May flowers, would be appropriate for the first entry of this month. (The entry for last month was March Madness, March 14th).

I also thought the meaning of this expression was fitting since April has a few important dates in my life. April 30, 1975 was the day when the Northern Vietnamese communist took over South Viet Nam. Four years later, April 1979, my family began our final preparation to escape the country by boat. I realized that there were many events in my life when something good (May flowers) happened (or may happen) as a result of unpleasant event (April showers). There are other sayings that have similar meanings, Every Cloud has a Silver Lining or Everything happened for a reason. Life is a picnic. You have to take the sunshine with the rains, the butterfly with the bees and the gentle breeze with the occassional wind blowing away the umbrella. (I am in the mood of Socrates wannabe).

My life in Viet Nam would be completely different, at the most uneventful, if the communist never took over and I never left the country. Actually a matchmaker already contacted my parents to set up a possible marriage arrangement. That family was in the same Chinese medicine/herbal business and I would be suitable for the oldest son which guaranteed that I would be well taken care of since the oldest son normally inherited the family business. While my family suffered in the four years living under communist control, endured the horrid boat journey, the seven months in the refugee camp, the struggle in the new land (April showers), we are grateful that we are living in America and receiving so many blessings (May flowers). If it was not for these events, we would not enjoy the freedom and living a good life in America compared to living in Viet Nam.

When I married my husband, I gave up the dream of working as a diplomat at United Nations. I always felt guilty for moving far away from my family. Yet moving to Grand Haven, Michigan expanded my horizon beyond New York City, driving in the extreme winter condition replaced riding the routine subway and experiencing life in the small town at much slower pace. Moving to St. Louis added another dimention in my American experience. The pace is just right, not too hectic and the cost of living not too high as in New York, yet the town is big enough so that it is not suffocating and plenty of opportunities to grow.

When we first came to New York, Uncle Ping informed my Dad that he would help secure an apartment in Chinatown for our family. He thought that would help eliminate the language barriers. We would be among Chinese speaking people and not worry about learning English. His wife then would help my Mom and me getting work in a sewing factory, of course also in Chinatown. The plans included finding a suitable husband for me, (again with the arrangement of marriage!), a man who was a cook to ensure that I would not be hungry! My Dad thanked Uncle for his assistance and thoughtfulness. Dad explained that he believed we should all learn to speak English, get college education, assimilate in the American culture, yet maintain our Chinese traditions at home.

Last year when the terrible storm left our area without power for a few days, the Association's major golf tournament almost got cancelled when the golf course did not have electricity until half an hour before the scheduled shotgun. Half of the carts were not fully charged and the rains continued to create problems on the course. One of the members commented to me, "Is this the worst day of your life?". I responded, "Compared to being on a crowded boat with water up to my knees, in the middle of the ocean, being chased after by the pirates, being threaten at gunpoint and not knowing where we were going, this is a picnic."

Yes, life is picnic. The next time I take things for granted, I will remind myself to count my blessings and stop whinning about a minor inconvenience. "An occassion of April showers will bring lovely May flowers."

ALL ABOARD!

I hit the buzzer when the small alarm clock on the end table next to my bed went off. I knew I had to get up and get ready for work. Normally I would wait until the big alarm clock on the dresser located the other side of the bedroom to go off. That would be another half an hour of sleep. Placing the alarm clock on the dresser was my husband's idea because it forces us to get up to shut off the buzzer.

My workplace is very small, only five employees including me. Starting today, the receptionist, TC is taking her week-long vacation with her family visiting relatives in England. I have to help answering the phones whenever TC is out. I dislike this task and have unsuccessfully convinced my boss to upgrade to automated phone system. He prefers a receptionist or a real person to the impersonal system with the main menu and a list of employees' extensions. The reason I dislike having to answer the phone because I find that most of callers are lack of telephone etiquette. Most of the time I have to ask "May I ask whom I am speaking to?" because the callers failed to properly identify themselves. Some people are rightdown rude as if it was my fault that whoever they called did not return their calls or became upset at me when I told them that the boss was on the other line. Of course, I still have to take care of my regular workload.

Also this week, my brother, VL and his son JL together with his wife and her family are leaving today for a two-week vacation to China. This is the second trip for VL and the first oversea trip to a non-Western country for JL. My sister-in-law is of Chinese national and the trip is more like a family reunion visiting relatives in her home village. VL commented that he did not look forward to the long flight (approximately 16+ hours) from New York to Hong Kong and the long rides by bus into China and to get to the remote village. I feel bad that VL won't have any time for activities that would be interesting to him. The trip is more like an obligation than a vacation.

My husband and I have talked about a trip to Viet Nam, my birthplace and to China to see the Great Wall and the Emperor's Tomb where an army of life-size terra-cotta clay figures were constructed. I am glad that my parents were able to visit Viet Nam in 1998 before my Dad passed away in 2001. My Mom has talked about going back before she becomes too old and too weak for the long flight. Lately, I have thought a lot about how emotional it would be when I finally go back to Viet Nam, my first trip since we left the country in 1979. I was a teenager when I left and would be going back as a middle-age woman.

This weekend my husband and I will be going to see the Nashville Predators taking on the Dallas Stars. We will be staying at a hotel across from the arena and downtown Nashville. We visited Nashville in 1991 when my husband had a job interview with a company in Bowling Green, Kentucky. He did not take the job. After we moved to St. Louis, we spent a weekend in Nashville in 1996 and saw the first performance of Brad Paisley at the Grand Ole Opry who currently is one of the well-known stars in country music.

With my brother in China, my co-worker in England and I am taking a weekend trip, I thought of a saying my father used to say, "Cai nha co chan, no cung di" - If the house grew feet, it would be taking off to some place. The world is big and there are many interesting places to visit - all aboard!

THE WURST FESTIVAL

In case my adoring fans thought the title of this entry is misspelled, it is not. Last weekend, my husband and I went to Hermann, Missouri for the Wurstfest. It was a two-day celebration of Hermann's 160-year history of sausage making and German culture. It sure was the best Wurst Festival!

For a very reasonable cost of $6.00 per person, we were invited to sample various sausages made by local sausage makers. There were products available to purchase after the sampling. There were also wine tasting, guided tours at the many wineries, German music and dancing and of course, demonstrations of sausage making the old traditional way. We purchased jalapeno & cheddar (spicy), Smoked Kielbasa (Polish) for my husband, Sweet Lebanon Bologna, Smoked Polynesian (also sweet) for me and a small package of snack sticks.

The town of Hermann is about an hour from St. Louis. According to the tourism brochure, Hermann was founded in 1836 by the German winegrowers in search of the ideal location for their vineyards. They found a site bounded by hills and bluffs on three sides and the Missouri River on the north which was similar to the Rhine River region in Germany. In addition to the famous family-owned wineries, there are many bed & breakfast inns with the view of the Missouri River, many fine restaurants with authentic local cookings, gift shops and antiques places.

While sampling the sausages, I learned a bit of history about different kinds of bratwursts. I learned that summer sausage is a general term for the kind of sausage that was made using extra dried salty ingredient to keep for a long time since a hundred years ago there was no refrigeration to store the meat. Actually the Hawaiian bratwurst tasted almost like the Chinese sausage. We called it "lap xuong" in Vietnamese. I think my Mom still puts "lap xuong" in her famous fried rice. There are also jerky but I did not care much because the western jerky are tough and hard, unlike the jerky found in Chinese grocery shops, tender, sweet and juicy.

I sure came a long way when I was a newly arrival Vietnamese refugee learning about the American fastfood. There was a Burger King near Magda K. Company (my first job in America). Once a week, instead to bringing lunch, I would go to Burger King, pointed at an item such as Whopper, ordered it, ate it to learned what a whopper was and asked someone at work how to pronounce "whopper". Later I tried "Big Mac" at McDonnald, learned about french fries and no longer questioned how anyone could eat so much meat or food in one meal.

It was a beautiful day when we were in town. After the tasting of sausage, we went down to the park by the river, with a bag of fresh kettle korn, we watched the trains went by, waved at the conductors and exchanged friendly greetings - what a relaxing day in the old charming American town.

For someone who does not appreciate or collect recipes and do not enjoy drinking, I sure had a great time in Hermann. We plan to go back in June (8-10) when "A Taste for the Arts" festival takes place.

LAW & ORDER

What an interesting coincidence that a few days after my most recent entry entitled March Madness (Wednesday, March 14th) about the "worth more than gold" tickets to the World Series in St. Louis and the other entry Innocent Until Proven Guilty (Sunday, March 18th) about excessive drinkings, the front page of the St. Louis Post-Dispatch featured a report about the St. Louis Cardinals, Mr. Tony La Russa being arrested for driving under the influence of alcohol and another story about World Series tickets confiscated by the St. Louis police being used and put back afterward as evidence.

I don't know how it started, the last six months I became "addicted" to the television show called Law & Order, the original series and the spin-off Special Victims Unit series. I have not yet paid attention to other spin-off series, Criminal Intent and Trial by Jury. Perhaps the reason I enjoy this legal drama program because it took place in New York City, my American hometown. It is unrealistic with the proceeds, then trial preparation to an indictment with the accused often ended with a guilty verdict wrapping up the show in half an hour. The same detectives always found evidences and witnesses (normal people with excellent photographic memory) willing to give descriptions of the would-be criminals. The prosecutors would be the good lawyers seeking justice on behalf of the victims .

According to the newspaper article, about 10 St. Louis City police officers are under investigation for allegedly using about 30 World Series tickets seized from people who attempted to sell tickets for more than face value, used the tickets and then returned the tickets back to the evidence locker. Opinions from the experts of the legal field aruged whether the officers committed a crime of tampering with evidence or just a simple case of human weakness (as a sport fanatic, I understand the temptation) and what the harm since the tickets are still the same condition to be presented as evidence! I will leave the guilty verdict to the judge. I do wonder what made the officers think that no one would ever find out!

The other story about Mr. La Russa 's arrest. When I wrote about people who became drunken fools or those who could not control their intake of alcohol at business functions, I did not know that Mr. La Russa would be helping me proving my points. I also wrote that there are definitely no excuses for anyone to drive while intoxicated. Most of the people who called in to the radio stations or sending comments to the media, wanted to brush this matter off or minimize what could be a fatal mistake. While I agree that Mr. La Russa will move on and the rest of us will stop talking about the incidence, I question what else must be done so that a parent, a child or a loved one will not die the next time a drunken fool chose to get behind the wheel and slam into another vehicle driven by someone's mother, father, son or daughter? Many St. Louisians still recalled the tragic story of a mother/wife/daughter who was killed by a St. Louis Rams player a few years ago when he hit her car after he was already drunk coming from a party.

I understand that it is not my place to decide what the appropriate penalty should be. I will not be the person who cast the stone at Mr. La Russa either. (Jesus said, "Anyone here who has never sinned, let him throw the first stone". John 8:7) However, will Mr. La Russa be able to keep himself from repeating the same mistake? ("Go, and don't sin anymore" John 8:11).

Yes, I know you should not judge a man until you've walked in his boots. Yes, I know "Judge not, that ye be not judged". Since I don't drink and I am NOT planning to learn the art of consuming alcohol, I would safely say that I would not receive the same scrutiny of the same offense or might be walking in Mr. La Russa's boots/shoes.

INNOCENT UNTIL PROVEN GUILTY

As I was driving to work last Thursday morning, I detected an unpleasant smell in my car. I became a bit nervous as I realized what the ordor was. I drove extra careful and prayed that I would not be involved in an accident or pulled over by the police. How would I explain to the nice officer the overwhelming smell of beer coming from inside my car, specifically at 8:30 a.m.?

My adoring fans know that I don't have a 9-to-5 work schedule. There are activities in the evenings such as membership meetings, Board of Directors meetings, golf tournaments, Christmas Party and of course, the occassional industry meetings for networking purpose with other trade associations. Membership meetings take place the 2nd Wednesdays of the months except during the summer as it is the peak of construction work for our members. Board of Directors meetings are usually on the third Wednesday every other month.

It happened at least once or twice every six months or so, one of the members would walk up to the registration table, picked up a pre-printed nametag from me, put down his beer (of course, it had to be a full bottle) to put the nametag on his jacket. Somehow the person or someone next in line, managed to knock the beer bottle over during this simple process. For a geezer like myself, I still had pretty good reflex to take a step back from the table. But not quick enough to avoid beer all over my shoes and not fast enough to move the other nametags and the table banner (pre-printed logo) out of the way. It happened last Wednesday night, so I am safe for another six months.

We collect the nametags after each meeting to be used at the next function. I normally get home around 10:00 p.m. from the events. All work-related material (the beer stained nametags included) stayed in my car until the next day when I take everything back to the office. "Officer Smith, that was the reason why my car permeated with the smell of beer as if I had been drinking all night!", that would be my response to the nice police officer.

Since working at the Association, I have learned about the importance of what to serve at cocktails and to ask for specific brand name of liquors. Some facilities will provide premium drinks when being asked but would not include many choices when compared to deluxe package. Personally I could count the occassions when I consumed alcohol on one hand. I drank champaign at my wedding, one or twice at family functions and an occassion when I drank the whole bottle of beer after an automobile accident about fifteen years ago. My husband and I were not hurt but the brand new vehicle we were about to purchase had to be removed from the ditch and towed back to the car dealership. This is a story for future entry.

When selecting a location for the Christmas Party, we usually pick a facility with overnight accomdations. We encourage our members and guests not to drive home after the party. I am not against social drinking, only people who became drunken fools in business social settings. My respect for a few members, particularly Board members, has diminished after I witnessed their behaviors because they could not control their intake of alcohol. There are definitely no excuses for drunk driving. All establishments provide car services, even at no cost to prevent the person from driving while intoxicated.

I will keep an airfresher in the car just in case and remember to wipe off the beer stain on my shoes. That way I don't have to explain my innocence against the "could be guilty" evidence.

MARCH MADNESS

I purchased the American Idioms Dictionary (Second Edition - Richard A. Spears, Ph. D.) a long time ago because I wanted to put together a comparison of proverbs and common sayings that are also similar to Vietnamese popular expressions. Since I learned English when I was 19 years old, I became interested not only the American/English sayings but also their origins and the famous people the popular sayings attributed to. I specially enjoy the one-liners and how usage of standard proverbs/sayings vary in different contexts.

Recently I learned that the proverb "The best things in life are free" implies that the things that give a person the most happiness don't cost anything. According to the book America's Popular Sayings by Gregory Titelman, the saying was originated in 1927 from the song "The Best Things in Life are Free" by Buddy G. De Silva. The song also was a hit in the Boardway musical Good News. I have always thought it was about freebies, things that are provided free-of-charge or no cost.

Like any other jobs, mine has its plusses and minusses. For a sports fanatic, I truly appreciate a few incentives such as earlier this month when my husband and I were invited to watch the Missouri Valley Conference championship basketball game from the press box with food and drinks all provided, complimentary from the public relations firm of the Association. Last year when the St. Louis Cardinals was in the World Series, my husband and I attended Game #3, complimentary of the Association. You could not purchase these tickets, definitely would not be available at cost and people were willing to pay thousands of dollars for the tickets.

I don't follow college basketball games and did not know much about March Madness, I decided to learn a little so I could have an intelligent conversation while watching the deciding game between Southern Illinois (the Sulakis) vs. Creighton (the Bluejays). Creighton dominated the game from the beginning and defeated Southern Illinois 67-61 to capture the championship. The wonderful Wikipedia and the website marchmadness.org explained the history of March Maddness. A teacher and coach named Hanry V. Porter gave birth to the term "March Madness" which originally used to describe the frenzy of the Illinois state high school basketball tournaments. Since 1908, the tournaments have grown from a small affair to a statewide event with over 900 schools competing by the late 1930's. Now the spirit of March Madness became one of the most prominent sports events, with fans gathering in large crowds from coast to coast watching and betting on games featuring 65 college basketball teams across the United States over 3 weeks in March.

I am not planning to watch any regional games this week or the Final Four scheduled the last weekend. As explained, we went to the game a few weeks ago because of free food and drinks. So I was wrong about the meanings of the expression "The best things in life are free". What about the sayings "there is no such thing as free lunch"? How about "Let's go Dutch"?

ABSENCE MAKES THE HEART GROW FONDER

My sister, CH informed me when I called on Sunday that Mom was at the hospital because it was thought she could have a stroke. Thank God it was not. My brother VL was with Mom as they were waiting for a room since the doctor wanted to keep Mom there overnight for observation as a precaution. I tried not to get nervous as there was nothing I could do to help or immediately rushed to the hospital since I live almost 1,000 miles away.

I called the next morning and VL told me that Mom would be going home in the afternoon. There was nothing serious with Mom's health. The next few days I would call Mom during the day to remind her to eat and to find out how she was feeling. I listened to Mom repeating her unpleasant experience with the nurses in the emergency room being rude. Already Mom planned to make her delicious eggrolls and cakes to give to other nurses who were kind to her.

During our regular phone conversations on the weekend, Mom usually tells me news about relatives or matters that she was not happy about. I learn to listen without asking too many questions to clarify what the situation was about. Mom did not need me to solve any of her problems. When Mom asks, I always say everything is alright. I don't share about my work or community activities that I am involved in. Mom did not know about my broken foot in 2003 until much later and of course, she never knew about my plan of seperation from my husband. We don't talk about anything personal or emotionally ladden. As I get older, I wish our relationship would not be superficials and strictly dutiful.

A 2-story house to the right of us has been on the market over a year. My husband kept saying that it would be perfect if my brother would move here. The backyard provides plenty of space for his son to play, a two-car garage, full basement, and walking distance to nearby parks with fishing ponds. My husband responded "What is wrong with that?" when I accused him that he just wanted to have my Mom next door to bring him all the good food.

There is a saying in Vietnamese, "O xa moi chan, O gan moi mieng" - rough translation "distance will make it difficult (the feet got tired from walking) to visit each other often, yet living nearby (too close) could create frictions or disagreement (the mouths got tired from constant arguments)". People often feel more affectionate toward each other when they are apart. If we lived in a perfect world, I would live not next door to Mom, just an hour of driving distance. That way neither the feet nor the mouth will be tired!

THE BRADY BUNCH

This entry is not about the American television situation comedy show that aired from 1969 to 1974 on the ABC network about Mike Brady, a widowed architect with three sons married Carol Martin who had three daughters. It is interesting to note that there was no mention of how Carol's first marriage ended because the network knew that the audience might not accept Carol as a divorced woman. The series reflected, at that time, the growing marriages involved children from a previous marriage.

The entry is about Mr. Tom Brady, the New England Patriots three-time Super Bowl winning quarterback, who became a proud father-to-be. According to the press release, Mr. Brady acknowledged that he is the father of the child with Ms. Bridget Moynahan, an actress in various movies and television series. The situation is somewhat complicating because Mr. Brady and Ms. Moynahan ended their relationship last year. Yet, according to their publicist, Ms. Moynahan is three months pregnant with Mr. Brady's child.

A week later, another similar headline reporting Ms. Charlotte Church, the famous Welsh singer, and her boyfriend, announced that they were expecting a child. Ms. Church is famous for her beautiful voice and had performed at the closing ceremonies of the 2002 Olympic Games in Salt Lake City as well as special audience with Pope John Paul II. I enjoyed her first album, Voice of an Angel, released in 1998. Her music collections were sold over million copies and were on the top of the classical album charts.

I was somewhat disappointed as I have been fond of Mr. Brady and Ms. Church. I am 46 years old, so they could be my son (Mr. Brady is 29) and daughter (Ms. Church recently turned 21). It is not my place and I don't attemp to have a mightier-than-thou attitude to preach about Mr. Brady and Ms. Church having children out of weblock. Today, in the Western society, we no longer place a strong stigma on children born to parents who were not validly married. Call me old-fashion, I expected headlines of lavish weddings, then announcements of the birth of beautiful children from Mr. Brady and Ms. Church and not the latter without the official matrimony.

About 10 years ago, my husband and I found out a similar situation occurred on his side of the family. When her mother passed away in 1997, CF (my husband's cousin), learned that the cousin from Ohio actually was her older brother. As CF and her two brothers prepared for the funeral (their father passed away in 1993), an uncle, a brother of CF's mother, explained that they needed to notify the Cousin from Ohio and allowed him time to make travel arrangements from Ohio to Michigan. Uncle explained that CF's mother found out about the pregnancy after her lover already went off to serve in the Korean War (1950-1953). The family sent CF's mother to Ohio and the child was reared by relatives. At 44 years old, CF learned that she had an older brother whom she had always thought was just a cousin. CF finally realized why her mother had to spend part of her summer vacation in Ohio and it was clear that her mother always had special Christmas gifts for the Cousin from Ohio and his children. (I wonder if CF and her brothers found a note or letter from their mother explaining what happened or whether CF resented that her mother kept the secret from her all those years. I also wonder if CF tried to recapture the connection with her older brother or the relationship became too little too late situation.)

As I am unable to have children, I know that a child is a precious gift, no matter under what circumstances the child was born. To Mr. Brady and Ms. Church, best wishes to you and your children.

KNOCK KNOCK

After I learned that my nephew, JL started to tell knock-knock jokes, I went to the library and checked out a few knock-knock books. I found two books, one entitled, "the Best Knock-Knock Book Ever" by Charles Keller, illustrated by Jeff Sinclair and another "Doctor Knock-Knock's Official Knock-Knock Dictionary" by Joseph Rosenbloom, illustrated by Joyce Behr.

For a few days after I started reading the books, I constantly practiced the jokes on my husband. Either I don't have the knack of telling knock-knock jokes or we were too old to appreciate the jokes. After a day or two, I noticed my husband tried to avoid me whenever he saw me coming toward him. I must have the look as if I was ready to share another knock-knock joke. I am trying to remember the punch lines so I could share JL new-founded interest.

Being 990.7 miles (or 14 hours 36 minutes driving distance) from JL, I sure miss sharing these wonderful years when a child learns so many new things and begins to show the level of intelligence. Most of the time, I don't get to talk to JL when I called. I understand that it is hard to get a 6-year old to carry on a lengthly phone conversation. I just wish I lived nearby or an hour away, then I could see my favorite nephew every weekend!

I remember up to when JL was about 4 years old, my mother and my sister-in-law's mother cared for JL during the day. Both grandmas only spoke Chinese to JL. When my husband and I visited JL, there was a bit of communication problem occurred. My husband, CP is third-generation Polish American and he only speaks English. JL enjoyed our visit and we spent a lot of time playing games with JL. When JL tried talking to CP, it was evident that there was a language barrier. After a few times, JL recognized that my husband did not understand (Chinese), JL began using hand signals and body gestures trying to communicate with CP. I remembered fondly how JL taped CP's hand, then pointed at the sofa and at the television, to ask CP to sit next to JL at the sofa and to watch JL's favorite video tape of Thomas the Train.

A year later, JL began to attend daycare during the summer, later pre-k. At 5-year old, JL managed to speak both English and Chinese beautifully. I marveled at how easily JL switched from answering my mother in Chinese when she asked him if he would like to have something to eat after he came home from school, then in English shared with my husband what JL learned in school that day. I noticed that JL already used correct grammar and complete sentences in his communication. His enunciation was excellent and almost flawless for a child, better than some football/basketball players doing interviews on national television. I became more tolerant of parents and grandparents bragging about how smart their kids were. Now I have my nephew to brag about.

To JL, here are a few knock-knock jokes I have learned -

Ben and Don (Been there, done that)

Stan (Stand back, I am going to sneeze)

Kent (Can you help me with my homework?)

Hanover (Hand over the chocolate bar)

Luke (Look who is coming towards us?)

Until next time, Olivia (I love you) very much, JL.

SELF WORTH FAIR DEALS

The article carried the headline "No love for Lovie" was about the Chicago Bears continued to brag their feet on the new contract for Coach Lovie Smith. "All I want is a fair deal," said Coach Smith about what was keeping the negotiations from reaching an agreement. At $1.45 million for the 2007-2008 season, Coach Smith would be the lowest paid coach after reaching the Super Bowl.

Supporters, myself included, questioned what else do the Bears need from Coach Smith to prove that the team need a coach who led the team to a 15-4 record, reaching the NFC championship and first Super Bowl appearance in more than two decades. Previously, the Bears won the Super Bowl Championship in 1985.

I had a similar experience when I had to fight for what I considered a fair compensation. In 1999, I decided to terminated my home-based translation business and began to search for a full time job. In addition to applying directly to the companies, I also signed up with temporary agencies. I was assigned to a position of accounting clerk at a local upscale family-own restaurant. I only needed a day of training in Peachtree (software for accounting) and after one week, impressed the owner (Mr. AG) by getting the system back on track. A month later, when the office manager quit without warning, I again accepted the challenge and kept the office running smoothly. I received many email and phone calls from vendors and customers telling me that the office had never been so efficient.

After three months as temporary employee, Mr. AG made me an offer of a permanent full time job as office manager. When we discussed compensation, Mr. AG offered me much less compared to the salary he originally listed with the temporary agency. Mr. AG explained that my resume did not include that I had experience managing an office. I responded that I had proved that I could handle the responsibility the last three months. Mr. AG commented that I focused more on the money than the opportunity to grow with his company. To this day, I still feel good thinking about what I said to Mr. AG, "It is not just about the money. It is about my self-worth and how much I am worth as an employee to your company." I never regreted not accepting the job for less than what I believe I should be compensated.

I am sure Coach Smith felt good this week when he and the owner of the Chicago Bears agreed on an extension through 2011. Coach Smith will earn about $4.7 million per season over the next five years, making him one of the highest paid NFL coaches.

My brother VL told me about his situation that he already reached the salary cap for his grade level in the company. The manager told VL that there would be no salary increase, though management did provide a bonus and an additional work-at-home day on the weekend. One of the VL entry entitled, "Should I Stay or Should I Go?" in which VL weighs the pros and cons of benefits of flexible work schedule and senority against the possibility of additional income by seeking employment elsewhere.

Many times in life, we have limited options when it comes to taking a job just to survive. As a refugee in the new land, my Dad worked as a dishwasher and a taxi driver to take care of our family. He never complained and always had a positive attitude. He also instilled in us that we must believe in our ability to achieve higher education and never accept anything less than what we believed was fair. I will always remember the words my Dad told us, "Your Mom and I sacrificed for you children. You know the language, you have college education and ability to reach higher ground, don't ever settle."

Remember your self-worth and never accept anything less than a fair deal.

EIGHT DAYS A WEEK

(I started this entry on Wednesday, Feb. 21st wishing that there were eight days in a week. My calendar was filled with evening activities and I was under the weather for a few days. Of course, there was no 8th day, thus more than 2 weeks later, I finally managed to find time to complete the entry.)

My adoring fans know that the Beatles is one of my favorite music groups because I have used the titles of their songs as titles for many of my blog entries. The entries were posted in the following order -
November 2, 2006 - Baby You Can Drive My Car;
November 3rd - I Want to Hold Your Hand;
December 9th - The Long and Winding Road;
December 11th - Here, There and Everywhere;
and on December 27th - I'll Follow the Sun.
The titles were good match for what I wanted to write about, not exactly what the songs were about.

My husband have said that I got involved in too many community activities and self-imposed too many projects. I do agree that I need to cut back and commit to only a few tasks. I also admit that part of me enjoy looking at my weekly calendar and see that I do not have any meetings or functions to attend after work.

Last year I was selected to serve on the Comprehensive Planning for the City. There were monthly meetings and documents to review and prepare for discussions prior to the meeting. The Committee focused on goals and objectives to critical issues in the City's future on topics such as economic and business stability, annexations, future land use, quality of life and future development. In December, the Committee submitted recommendations to the City for approval and implementation.

The second half of last year, I also committed to weekly training with Stephen Ministry. I realized I had spread myself too thin when each evening my calendar was filled with work-related meetings and community involvement. I questioned whether I was really committed or just trying to fill an empty void of wanting to be helpful. I know I do have the flexibility of not going to meetings or making up some excuses to resign from the assigned tasks. Whereas if I was to have children, there would be no flexibility when it comes to taking care of a child or telling the child that you were too tired to fulfill your duty as a parent. I have so much respect for my brother VL for doing a great job being a good father to his 6-year old son.

Since there was not an extra (8th) day in a week, I must seriously look at what I hope to accomplish and how I want to live my life. This weekend, I decided to pamper myself by going to the library, taking my time, leasurely wandering from one section to another and enjoying quiet time, not rushing, trying to finish all the errands.

I will report back in a few months whether I have slow down or accepting new volunteer assignments because I was bored with nothing to do with my time!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO RJS

According to Talane Miedaner, author of the book, "Coach Yourself to Success - 101 tips from a Personal Coach for Reaching Your Goals at Work and in Life", great personal and career coaches are those who spend time developing, supporting, training and caring about people. A great coach will accept only your best and will advise you, guide you and encourage you to reach your full potential. A great coach is someone who will motivate you to recognize your own greatness and challenge you to go forward when you become idle or felt discouraged.

RJS was that great coach and I was blessed to work for his company for five years (1989-1994). It was my first full-time job after moving from New York to Michigan. I still have the employment ad listing "Executive Secretary". I must admit that I was not too thrilled about the position of secretary. My dream after graduating from Hunter College was to work at United Nations and became a diplomat working for world peace. The full-time jobs I held while attending college were office work, not secretarial experience for an executive. I decided to send my resume to the company, thinking I probably would not get the job or would not last more than a few months. I worked for RJS a total of 5 years and 3 months.

In a recent email, RJS recalled that he "personally remember our first employment interview and was so impressed with your determination and education accomplishments. You exhibited extreme confidence in yourself during our second interview." Always the wonderful cheerleader, RJS further added, "I made one of the best decision's in my life by hiring you." The time I worked for RJS' company was one of the best years of my life and knowing RJS and his family was a blessing.

At the end of our first interview, I knew that I wanted to work for RJS because I believed that he would value my skills and ability beyond what the immediate position required. I don't remember exactly what RJS said or did, I only knew that he had the foresight to recognize and appreciate my talents. I just knew that it would be a win-win working relationship. I learned by watching how RJS took the time to shake hands with all the shop employees whether while they were running the machines or during lunch in the breakroom. He addressed each by name and asked about their families. I made the effort to do the same and greeted everyone when they came in for our PEP (monthly and quarterly) meetings.

I wanted to show RJS that he made me want to become better at my job. I was able to discuss potential projects with RJS and he in turn sincerely was interested in my new ideas. The company was involved in many community programs such as "Adopt a Highway", our division broke the records of employee contributions towards United Way campaign, and we shared the triumphs of featured stories about the company in both local newspapers and national magazine. I still have the article on the front page of the business section about the company celebrated its anniversary with a photo of RJS standing next to a new laminated machine. My husband still bragged about me being on the cover of Federal Express magazine, distributed nationally and internationally to all its customers. It was RJS who nominated me for the Administrative of the Year Award sponsored by Federal Express.

RJS was the best coach and the best mentor anyone could ever wish for. He inspired me to become a better employee and a better person. He fostered my talents, helped develop further my communication skills by assigning the duties of public relations coordinator. RJS was the positive influence in both my career and personal achievements. The one thing I remembered the most was the time when we attended a Chamber of Commerce luncheon. After stated his name, RJS said, "I work at AFCO Industries." He then turned to me, mentioned my name and said, "This is my associate". I remembered this as the best lesson from a person with characters and inner strength that he did not have to broadcast that he was the owner of the company and that I was his employee.

If Ms. MK was the employer from hell (please see my blog entry on Wednesday, January 24, 2007 - entitled The Unlikely Cheerleading Squad), then RJS was the heaven sent employer I could ever wish to work for. Compared to Ms. MK who told me to confine myself to the stock room, RJS encouraged me to reach for higher goals and to remind myself of my potentials. We continue to keep in touch after I moved to St. Louis. When I was overwhelmed with my martial problems and felt rejected as my marriage crumbled, it was RJS who continued to support and encourage me thru his letters and email messages.

Happy Birthday, RJS. You are the best boss, a great person and you are God's blessings to me. Thank you and may you enjoy many more years of good health, love, happiness and all the best things in life.

THE RED CARDINAL OF LIFE

I have been emotional exhausted the last few days writing about my Dad's passing. I realized that I never allowed myself to completely mourn. There were times when I felt at peace with the loss, telling myself to get over the guilt and bitterness. Other times I questioned what could have been if the cancer was discovered earlier or I should have spent more time with my Dad during his treatment.

Putting my feelings into words have helped me to recognize that the void of my Dad's passing will always be there. Physically I would never be able to give him one more hug, sharing one more conversation and watching one more soccer game. I just need to believe that the spiritual bond between us will never be taken away.

As if my Dad was listening and just like the way he always tried so hard to comfort and provide for his family, I looked out the window and saw on the tree, bare branches, covered with snow, a bright red cardinal resting, waiting for the storm to pass. "Sau con mua, troi lai sang - After the storm, there will be sunshine", thanks Dad for the reminder.

UNANSWERED PRAYERS

There is a saying, "Be careful of what you pray for". It is a kind of warning that whatever you pray for or wish to get might turn out to be not exactly as great as you thought it would be. What about unanswered prayers? How should a person of faith pray? Do you ask God for what you wish to receive or trust that God knows exactly how the situation should be?

In December 2000, when the doctor informed us that after two years of chemotherapy, the treatment for liver cancer did not produce results we had hoped and that my Dad only had three months to live, I began to pray every day for a miracle. My prayers were different each day from asking God for a complete recovery to bargaining with promises to be good so my Dad could live and be able to enjoy his grandson a few more years. After my Dad passed away, I blamed myself for my prayers that that it was God's will and asked that my Dad no longer suffered the physical pains.

The time I spent in hospice with my Dad, we never acknowledged that the end was coming. "When you got better, you could visit us in St. Louis to see the improvements we had done to our house," I said. My Dad smiled weakly and said "Sure, I hope so". Each morning I would describe the weather outside and told my Dad about my new job. We talked about current events and reminiscing our lives in the refugee camp and our early years in America. We shared a few laughs about incidents that took place and the silly things we did out of lack of knowledge of culture and language.

One night when I was not able to hold my pains, I apologized to my Dad for not being able to give him a grandchild to call him "Che Cung". I asked for his forgiveness for all the terrible things I did and for moving away. I told him my regrets that I had neglected my duty to our family. "I am your parent. I only want happiness for you and your own marriage. Look at me and your Mom, we left our parents in Viet Nam and were not there when they passed away.", my Dad responded and we cried together. Our tears as father and daughter allowed us to cope with the overwhelming fears to acknolwedge the end and at the same time avoiding the final goodbye.

As I sat holding my Dad's hand, I prayed that God would allow me to give 10 years of my life to my Dad. I imagined a conversation trying to bargain with God. I promised to be good and accept any kind of penance. "What if you only had 10 years to live, are you willing to give those years to your Dad?", God asked. "Yes, let my Dad live," I said without hesitation. "It was not possible because your Dad would not want you to die so he could live," God said.

At night I would sleep in a small Army bed nearby. I kept watch, listening to my Dad breathing through the machine. My Mom had told me that if my Dad was dying, let him go. Don't cry or say anything to prolong his depart. When my Dad's body began to shut down and he was not able to communicate or open his eyes, my Mom whispered to my Dad, "You could go now. Don't worry about us. Your children have grown up and they will be able to take care of themselves. You should be proud that you had taken good care of your family. Your children and I will be alright."

I kissed my Dad cold hand and watched him peacefully walked toward death. Rest well Dad. We are always proud to be "Con Ong L. V. H."

WE NEVER SAY GOOD BYE

My Dad passed away in February 2001. Six years later, I am still mourning, grieving and still asking why God did not let my Dad live another ten, fifteen years to enjoy the fruit of his labor. My Dad would love being grandpa, taking his first grandson to school, walking him home from school and watched him grow up. I am still hurting and bitter that we finally achieved a comfort level of living and we were not able to share with my Dad. I finally found employment with good income that would have allowed me to provide my Dad a trip to China. Born and raised in Viet Nam, my Dad always felt very strong about our Chinese heritage.

I remembered as if it was yesterday when my brother called me at work and told me that I should come to NYC. My husband and I took the first available flight that evening. We did not get to the hospital until almost 10:00 that night. The whole time during the flight I prayed that my Dad would not pass away before I arrived.

I broke down in tears when I saw my Dad lying in the hospital bed. He looked so frail and helpless. Two years of treatment of chemotherapy for liver cancer had destroyed his living body. I saw hopelessness in my Dad's sunken eyes. He was prepared to die but he did not want to acknowledge the ending. Perhaps my Dad wanted to be strong for his family, the same strength he displayed to keep us calm when the huge wave almost swallowed our tiny boat. My Dad smiled when he saw me. "Don't cry," he tried to comfort me.

I was with my Dad while he spent his last ten days in hospice care. I tried to hide the intense sadness watching my Dad struggle for every breath. I wept when he was not looking because I could not stand seeing his body suffered. I helped the nurse washed my Dad. He closed his eyes to cover his embarrassment while his body being exposed. He apologized for being a burden when I fed him and when I put lotion on his body to help ease the itchy skin. I struggled to find hope and yet, wanted to let go. I was living in the darkness of despair. One minute I was hopeful that my Dad would again be well and that he would walk out of the hospice room. When the doctor came and told the nurse just try to make my Dad as comfortable as possible, I was thrown into the cold, dark waters of reality that there was nothing else could be done to save my Dad.

My Dad passed away on February 13th. We never say good bye. I still feel my Dad is with me, helping me when I have a bad day or visiting me in my dreams. Death shattered our physical connection but it never disconnected a father-daughter bond between us.

We'll Never Say Goodbye (by Larry Howland)

I cannot see you with my eyes
Or hear you with my ears
But thoughts of you are with me still
And often dry my tears
You whisper in the rustling leaves
That linger in the fall;
And in the gentle evening breeze.
I am sure I hear you call.
A part of you remains with me
That none can take away.
It gives me strength to carry on
At dawning of new day.
I think of happy times we shared.
And then I softly sigh.
But this I know - - we'll meet again
And never say goodbye.

THE PURSUIT OF HAPPYNESS

(Note: This entry was started on Sunday, Jan. 28th but was not completed until today, February 7th.)

Mr. Christopher Gardner whose life story was made into a recently released movie entitled, "The Pursuit of Happyness" starring Will Smith, was at Webster University (St. Louis campus) on Monday, Jan. 29th. Approximately 1,800 people attended his presentation and waited in line for hours to get autograph for his book, "Rags-to-Riches Story: From Homelessness to Wall Street". My husband and I were turned away because the auditorium already reached its maximum accomodation. We were 15 minutes early prior to the scheduled of his appearance. We decided that we were too old to stand in lines (we were told it could be 2 hours) until Mr. Gardner finished speaking. It was too cold to be walking around the campus.

Perhaps in the future I could meet Mr. Gardner and share with him the story of my family coming to America and achieving a good life which is similar to Mr. Gardner's message of self-empowerment, beating the odds and breaking cycles. I read the amazing story of how unfortunate circumstances caused him to become homeless while trying to take care of his son. Upon learning that he was accepted into a training program at a brokerage firm, Mr. Gardner quit his job as a medical sales representative, only to be told that the program was terminated.

Without a job to go back and no money, Mr. Gardner did not give up the dream to create a better life for his son. While enrolling in the Dean Witter Reynolds training program, he and his son lived in a church shelter and getting their meals from soup kitchens. He worked hard from the start of the training, to passing the licensing exam, to becoming the top producer for the brokerage firm and finally achieved the high level of establishing in the business with his own company.

I would share with Mr. Gardner that my family too was homeless when we left Viet Nam and lived in the refugee camp for seven months. We were also people without a country. I would share with Mr. Gardner that my parents have the same love for our family as his love for his son that would not let him quit. That my parents turned down the opportunities to open a restaurant or a business so that my sister, brothers and I would be able to pursue higher education instead of working in a restaurant or a shop in Chinatown.

I would tell Mr. Gardner that have I great admiration and respect that he did not allow "racism" to define how he achieved success and always commited to his family. I know Mr. Gardner would agree that greatness comes from perseverance and inner strength, the same way coach Dungy led the Indianapolis Colts to the Superbowl championship. Mr. Gardner and coach Dungy are men of strong faith. Their spiritual life is the foundation helping them to overcame difficulties in life.

The greatest story is the story about anyone who dared to succeed in America without waiting for the government or someone else to validate their self worth. America is still the land of opportunity. Each of us is responsible for our own happiness and we determine the paths to achieve such "happyness".

KINDNESS OF STRANGERS

"Feel better?", MC said to me after showing me how to rub the Vaseline lotion on my hands and thru the fingers. We could not communicate much since my English was limited when we met one week after I started working at MK Company. MC just came back to work after a week of vacation in Florida. MC was responsible for rotating the displays of merchandise in the show room, working with photophers of various magazines to feature new items and selecting pieces of jewerly that would go well with certain outfits for the models at upcoming fashion shows.

After we met and MC saw how dried my hands were, during lunch MC went out to purchase a bottle of hand lotion to give to me. That was the beginning of our friendship. I will always remember the little things MC did to help me. Instead of eating in her comfortable office, MC would bring her lunch to the breakroom. While we ate, MC would talk to me and encouraged me to share with her what I learned from English classes. She corrected my pronunciation, grammar and taught me American expressions. During the summer months, when we walked around the blocks at lunch time, MC would teach me about New York City, about America and about being a young woman (I was 19 years old). I laughed so hard the first time MC asked me whether I had been kissed by a boy and if I liked it. Perhaps because the subject of kissing was such a taboo in conversations in the Asian culture, I laughed to avoid giving MC an answer. As I became aware of my maturity as a young woman, I asked MC many questions that I would not dare to ask my own mother. These questions probably would make mother very uncomfortable and I had no business discussing the topics until I got married anyway.

MC became a good friend and later my godmother. MC gave me new clothing (with the price tags tore off) and never expected anything in returns. We continued to keep in touch by phone after I left MK Company. During my breaks from school, I would visit MC and her husband, JC at their home on the weekend. They would take me to real nice restaurants for dinners and a few day trips. When we encountered acquantainces, MC introduced me as such, "This is our daughter".

MC provided words of encouragement during my years of working full time and seeking a college education. We remained good friends when I moved to Michigan. MC visited me when JC came to St. Louis to attend a convention for World War II veterans. We have continued to keep in touch regularly by letters, phone calls and now by email.

It was MC who listened for hours when I went through the painful struggle with my marriage in 2005. MC listened without judging or questioning my plan for a separation. MC continued to encourage me to be more assertive at my current workplace by listing my name and title in the Association's newsletter. "Why should anyone receive credits for your hard work?" MC commented after I sent her copy of the newsletter.

I felt so blessed to have such wonderful friends like MC and her husband. The kindness they extended to me and my family over the last 27 years has lessen some of the difficulties on my journey being a refugee in the new land. Very often in life, kindness of strangers is the thing we most likely depend on. Thanks, MC for all your support and encouragement.

THE UNLIKELY CHEERLEADING SQUAD

"You don't speak the language and you have no education. Who would give you a job? Where would you find another good job?" Ms. MK said to me when I gave her my two-week notice. Twenty-seven years later, I still remembered her every words, "I don't need your two-week notice. I could call the refugee agency right now with a replacement. You could leave this afternoon." I saw the anger in her eyes. "I was kind to you and your family. This is how you repay me," she continued as I stood up to leave her office. Ms. MK referred to the used clothing she gave me to take home and a few tokens as a bonus when I had to stay on Friday evenings beyond five o'clock to make shipments before the weekend. I don't think I was paid overtime for the extra hours.

I don't remember whether I said anything else or just left her office, picked up my coat in the employee breakroom and walked the two blocks to catch the subway home. I don't remember whether I ate my lunch or could not eat because I was too nervous about my decision to quit. I don't remember whether I stopped by the bank to cash my check so I could give mother my weekly contribution. I do remember that the gross pay was $150 per week and my take home was $117. I kept $17 for tokens and gave mother $100. That was my first lesson about the prilvilege of having a job and paying income taxes. All the way home, I was calm and felt strangely relief. I did not regret quitting and Ms. MK's angry words did not scare me.

It was my first job in America arranged thru the social worker at the refugee agency. (More about BL, the social worker from hell in future entries.) I started to work at MK Company one month after we arrived in America, from early February thru mid-October of 1980. The company imported fashion jewelries from the Far East. The job did not require language skills. My work was limited to opening the containers after they were delivered, putting the boxes on the shelves according to their categories (bracelets, belts, scarves etc.) and by assigned product numbers. My other duties included gathering the merchandise off the shelves to fill the orders, again by product numbers, putting the shipping labels on the boxes to be picked up by United Parcel Services.

After work, Monday thru Thursday evenings, I walked from MK Company on 31st Street & Lexington to a school on 33rd Street & Park Avenue to attend English classes. I walked because the distance was so close to waste a subway token and it probablly would take too long waiting for the train during rush hours. Prior to leaving Viet Nam, I received English lessons with a private teacher who did a good job at stressing the important of grammar. He explained that we should not learn to speak the language without the benefits of formal education such as writing complete sentences and using correct tense of present, past or past participle.

After a few months working at MK, I was blessed to have two wonderful friends, MC who worked in the show room and a bookkeeper named EK. (I will share details of the kindness MC and EK extended to me in future entries) During my unpaid lunch time (I don't remember if it was half hour or one full hour.) I would eat my sandwiches quickly so I could help MC or EK in their offices. I made copies, filed correspondence and listened to their conversation with customers. When Ms. MK questioned why I did not confine myself in the employee breakroom, I explained that I wanted to improve my English and to explore different job opportunities. Ms. MK told me that I should be happy where I was and that she did not pay me to learn or be anything beyond a stock clerk!

Ms. MK had a dog named Chichi. It loved to jump on people and only consumed certain kind of brand name dog food. I was not the only employee who did not care for Chichi. A month after I started working, Ms. MK asked me to take Chichi for a walk and I told her I was not comfortable with dogs. She made a comment (I don't remember her exact words) but it implied that for a lowly Vietnamese refugee, I should not be uncomfortable performing any kind of work when instructed to do so.

As the #7 train approaching and then stopped at Elmhurst Avenue station, I got off, slowly walked down the stairs, continued towards the apartment building, I began to get nervous. What would I tell mother that this week I only have $85 to contribute to the family income? After I explained that I left the job at MK, mother was not supportive. I understood her worry about how the family would survive with the only income from my father's job as a dishwasher.

Looking back at what happened, I admit that Ms. MK was the unlikely cheerleader and her words, though cruel and brutal, had strengthen my determination to reach for higher platforms both in employment and educational opportunities. In 1983, the stock clerk earned an Associate Degree attending classes at LaGuardia Community College while working at a night job as data entry operator. In 1988, the data entry operator earned a Bachelor Degree majoring in communication and political science from Hunter College, attending classes at night after a full day of work as an insurance premium collection clerk. Finally, in 1999, Saint Louis University awarded full scholarship and a graduate degree to the premium collection clerk.

Twenty seven years later, the stock clerk from MK Company has achieved the American dream working as a director at a trade association, a homeowner, a civic-minded citizen and an active volunteer in the community. Here is to Ms. MK, "I found another job and I did not have to confine myself to the stock room."

MAKING HISTORY - SUPERBOWL STORIES

Congratulations to coach Lovie Smith of the Chicago Bears and coach Tony Dungy of the Indianapolis Colts and their teams advancing to the Superbowl XLI.

The headlines the last two weeks were about Smith and Dungy being the first black head coaches to meet in the NFL's biggest game. I don't know neither coach and I am sure they have no idea who I am and that I am writing about them. Though our paths never crossed, I have admired coach Smith and was sincerely happy when he left the position of defensive coordinator to St. Louis Rams and became the head coach for the Chicago Bears. I shared the sorrows and the pains coach Dungy and his family experienced when his son unexpected took his own life in 2005. I have great respect for coach Dungy for his faith and his commitments to community services.

In a small, very small way, I have something in common with the coaches - making history as the first Asian American woman to break through the racial barriers. Back in 1993, I was selected as Outstanding Career Woman of the Year by the Professional Women Network of Western Michigan. I went on to represent the local chapter in the Statewide selection. The selection included group activity, individual presentation and in-depth interview. I was not chosen to go onto the next level which was to represent the State of Michigan for the national award. Ironically, the national convention that year was to be in St. Louis, Missouri where my husband was promoted and transfered to a subsidiary the following year.

There are many times in my life when I was told because I speak English with an accent and being Asian American, I am not "management materials". In her book entitled, "Breaking the Bamboo Ceiling - Careers Strategies for Asians", Ms. Jane Hyun explains that Asian Americans are recognized for their work ethics, as a well educated workforce, however as supporting staff but not qualified leaders in executive positions.

Last year, the Board of Directors at my workplace conducted a special retreat to discuss long term strategic plan as the Association celebrated its 40th Anniversary. The plan includes 5-10 year expansion in labor contracts, additional membership programs and succession planning for when the executive director takes his retirement in 10 years. I was told many times that if something serious happened to the executive director, I would handle all matters until a decision was made by the Board of Directors.

Giving the history of labor union and specifically construction industry, I would be the first woman and the first Asian American ever to sit at the collective bargainings negotiation table. When I shared this thoughts with my husband, he commented, "I don't have any doubt of your ability. Unfortunately, no matter how good you are, the only thing going against you is you are a woman."

The NFL "Rooney Rule" requires that a team must interview at least one minority candidate when there are openings for coaching positions. Since then the process has generated opportunities for minority coordinators and resulted in the current seven black head coaches. I believe that coach Smith and coach Dungy would not want the focus to be about their race or the extensive coverage only because they are African Americans. The focus should be on their coaching abilities, and that they have worked hard to earn, and not given, the chance to reach the highest platform of NFL - the winning coach of the Superbowl championship.

I don't believe in preferential treatments. I will continue to work hard and prove that I am the best person for the job. There will always be roadblocks, prejudice, and limitations. I will create my own opportunities just like the way my family through our own strength and courage, created a new life in America.