Twenty eight hours after stepping off a plane, I'm back on another one.
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| Downtown Los Angeles. | J-Town from above. | |
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| Little Tokyo at dusk. | A town preserved. | |
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| The stunning museum. | More across the way. | |
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| The 442nd memorial. | 'East' for dinner. | |
| ALL TRIP PHOTOS >>> | ||
LAX is hell. Not as deep a level as hell as Narita, but hell nonetheless. I suppose this is payback for the cakewalk that was my Honolulu departure. Long, long lines that lead you up an escalator or around a corner into yet another line. Back and forth, back and forth, like an E Ticket ride at Disneyland.
Hmm. Perhaps on cue, we’ve hit a patch of turbulence. There’s one downside of pen-based computing – a keyboard can probably take a bit more shaking.
I spent the entire day yesterday at the Japanese American National Museum. And I didn’t see one exhibit. A pity – it’s an amazing, beautiful facility.
Still, it was a good meeting. Everyone around the table, to a person, was great: accomplished, brilliant. I felt pretty out of place. Fortunately, there was a geek component, and I put in my $0.02. I’m sure I talked more than I should have, but everyone was open, engaged. Doing things by committee isn’t easy. But this group can do it.
Before l left, my dad said, “The minute you meet them, you’ll sense immediately that they have ‘a calling.’ That this is what they were meant to do.”
He was right. And I’m glad they’re there, to make up for slackers like me.
I’ll have to visit the museum again someday.
A break for lunch (barbeque chicken sandwich) and some vapid entertainment (a dating snow called “Perfect Match” that makes me really, really happy that Jen is waiting for me at home). I’m so easily distracted, I was watching the woman across the aisle play solitaire on the plane’s pseudo-tendo game system for a while.
More catching up to do.
Work is good. The end of February brought my first anniversary with the company, and for all its quirks, I can see why I have coworkers that have been there for forty years.
I’m doing the computer and web thing, but I’ve also been able to contribute to assorted odd projects all over that have, sometimes, turned out to be more interesting than what I’m paid to do. Some mix between IT, HR, internal communications and marketing would be perfect. Or is that why some companies have “special projects” people?
Of course, of all trades, I have absolutely no background in finance. So, they’ve also been sending me to night classes. I’m not on my way to Wall Street or anything, but at least l can unscramble the acronyms I hear everyday. (And I thought tech heads had it rough.) Also, in the name of teaching me What It Is We Do, I’ve been allowed to piggyback on the very thorough management training program. It’s a two-year program, so of course I’m just dropping in here and there.
People who love numbers — and I mean, really love figures and formulas and lots and lots of math — are about as alien to me as a creature can get. It has been quite enlightening, as a word person, to see what makes a number person tick.
The toughest part of my job? Compliance and regulations. The percentage of your work that’s just reaffirming the soundness of your real work is quite overwhelming. Even on a smudgy fax on a desk across the room, I can now probably recognize the logos of a dozen federal agencies in two seconds flat. (And it’s not that easy. There are a lot of eagles!)
The best part? Like my last job, I’d have to again say it’s the people. (Here, Jen would chime in, “And less travel!”) With only 120 employees – which is small for a financial institution — it’s impossible not to know everyone. We’ve got all flavors, shapes and sizes — it’s an interesting mix. And the head of my office? He’s tough, but both precise and perceptive. Probably one of the best managers we’ve got.
Considering the office where I used to work was shut down and moved overseas in November, I’d have to say I’m happy with my career decisions to date.
One of my “special projects” ended up sending me to do training at every single office around the island, plus two in Hilo. That opportunity, only a couple of weeks ago, led to a family trip to the Big Island. My mom and my brother Todd even came down for a day, and we made a long overdue pilgrimage to the family homeland of Kapa'au, the northernmost tip of the island.
With Todd finally graduated and living on his own (with Heidi, of course) for several months now, it was good to do something as a family again. He was very chatty and helpful and even wrangled the kids for a while. I’d have to say he’s really come a long way from just a year ago.
For the rest of the weekend, Jen, the kids and I just meandered around the island. We went up to the volcano, we drove to Honoka'a and the stunning Waipio Valley overlook, and poked around Waimea. (The tablet insisted I was writing “warmed” there.)
Of course, we spent a lot of time in Hilo proper, seeing all the old haunts, and dreaming once again of someday living there.
If only there wasn’t that pesky “earning a living wage” issue…
Katie turned six in January. Although I suspect I’ll feel the same way every birthday, I kept thinking, “My god, that’s such a big number.”
I remember being six. At least, I think I do. Jen definitely does (less head trauma). Now we know everything we say or do goes on her permanent record.
For her party we rented the pool at the YWCA. Everyone swam. It was great. Exhausting, but great. Poor Katie, she thinks we’re kidding when we say we’re just having ice cream and cake at home next year.
Zac, meanwhile, is growing at an awesome rate. Seriously. When he tipped the scales at the 90th percentile last month, the doctor actually ordered tests to be sure it wasn’t glandular. It wasn’t. He’s just really big and tall.
He’s incredibly stubborn, and incredibly strong. If Katie was a spindly spider, he’s a mutant, muscly octopus. Katie has seriously learned a lot about sharing and patience — she’s had no other choice. I have no doubt that Zac will be able to pick Katie up before the other way around. He’ll probably be able to wipe the floor with me before he’s ten.
He still doesn’t talk much, though, instead making his wishes known with a combination of fierce gestures, grunts and shrieks. Of course, we understand him perfectly, so where’s the motive to speak? He does say “mine,” of course, and “bye” and “mama” and “dada.” Surprisingly, no “Katie” yet. Oh, but he does say “D’oh!”
He loves cars, and keys and other shiny things. He also loves music, and is an incredibly creative dancer. Whereas Katie was a head-bobber, mostly, he mixes it up. Like that CG baby that was all the rage years ago (a la “Ally McBeal”).
His latest greatest hit is the shrug. It’s just so tooth-achingly cute.
Ooh. The Simpsons are on.
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