EppsNet Archive: Family

The family is like the forest: if you are outside it is dense; if you are inside you see that each tree has its own position. — Yaa Gyasi, Homegoing

Another Reason I’m Not a Christian

 

One of my nieces had a seizure, was taken to the hospital and diagnosed with a brain tumor. The last report I heard was that one doctor thought the situation was very dire, while another thought since she had no history of seizures, the prognosis was not so bad. We don’t know yet. This woman is a good person, religious person, faithful churchgoer . . . why do things like this happen if the world was created by a good, omnipotent God? As a purification for sin? In that case, why am I not the one getting a brain tumor? I haven’t been to a church in decades. It’s another reason I’m not able to believe in God. You have to spend too much time finding excuses for pain and misery in this suffering world. Read more →

Why People Are So Messed Up

 

When I was a kid, I had a cousin Kathy, who liked to eat meals one item at a time. For example, if she had what I had last night, which was salmon, spinach and brown rice, she’d eat all of the salmon, then all of the spinach, then all of the rice. Not necessarily in that order but you get the idea. Some adults in our family would get mad that she ate meals that way and would yell at her to stop doing it. Like, what difference could it possibly make to anyone in what order she eats portions of food? Mind your own goddamn business. Bad parenting is probably my hottest of hot buttons. Or as Philip Larkin used to say: They fuck you up, your mum and dad.     They may not mean to, but they do. They fill you with the faults they had     And add… Read more →

If Balboa Could Find the Pacific Ocean, Why Can’t You?

 

I mentioned in class today that 30 percent of Americans age 18 to 24 cannot find the Pacific Ocean on a map . . . (This was in the context of income diversity — or “income inequality,” take your pick — i.e., I can’t find the Pacific Ocean on a map but I’d like to be paid the same as a Harvard MBA.) Students absolutely could not believe this so I Googled the link to this National Geographic article. Not only was I proved correct on my Pacific Ocean assertion, 58 percent of respondents could not find Japan on a map, 65 percent couldn’t find France, 69 percent couldn’t find the United Kingdom, and 11 percent could not find the United States. The survey is a bit old now — it was taken in 2002 — but if anything, I’m sure the current situation is worse. If my kid could… Read more →

I Need to Acquire a Quirky Personality Defect

 

My great uncle died recently . . . of the people who spoke at his funeral, the thing that everyone seemed to zero in on was that he didn’t like to have to tell people how to do something more than once. He told you once and if you didn’t get it, he got angry about it. I wonder what people will say at my funeral? I don’t know that I have a distinguishing trait that everyone knows. In any case, I’m going to start telling people things once and once only and then yelling at them if I have to repeat myself. Read more →

We’re Dreamers Too

 

There are lots of people who went to school, worked hard, provided for our families, raised our kids, tried to do the right things . . . no one lionizes us but we’re dreamers too . . . Read more →

At the MOCA With a Rothko Fan

 

My niece and nephew were visiting from Texas . . . I asked her what she thought of the Rothko exhibit at MOCA (see photo above) . . . Keep in mind she’s a petroleum engineering major from Texas . . . “I love Rothko!” she said. “I used to have a Rothko calendar.” I admit that threw me off a little. I had expected a lukewarm and/or noncommittal response . . . “Did you find it had a certain ‘sameness’ about it?” “No, he used more figures in his earlier paintings.” “Oh . . . you know, I’ve never been to a museum with someone who actually knows about the art.” “Ha ha, I don’t know that much, I’m just a fan,” she said. Read more →

MOCA and the Broad

 

My niece and nephew were visiting from Texas . . . my niece in particular wanted to see the Infinity Mirrored Room installation at the Broad, so off we went. (Scroll down for photos.) Unless you reserve tickets well in advance, entry to the Broad is handled via a standby line, which, when we showed up Saturday morning, was about an hour wait, i.e., the museum opened at 10 a.m. and we got in about 11:00. Because the standby line is in direct sunlight, Broad staff thoughtfully hand out umbrellas to anyone in the queue who wants one. (They do ask for the umbrellas back when you enter.) The Infinity Mirrored Room is an experiential artwork . . . one visitor at a time enters the room for 45 seconds. It requires a separate reservation which you can make, pending availability, after entering the museum. Once you get signed up… Read more →

EppsNet Restaurant Reviews: Don Pisto’s

 

Our son and his girlfriend took us to a Mexican restaurant in North Beach for Sunday brunch. Later, at the airport, when I couldn’t remember the name of the place, I googled “san francisco mexican brunch” and it came back as the first result. Don Pisto’s is (according to Google) synonymous with Mexican brunch in SF. I can recommend the huevos rancheros, breakfast burrito and the pork tamale and eggs. I also had a margarita. Maybe because I ordered it at the bar and it was poured right in front of me, but there was mucho tequila in the margarita. I don’t always drink margaritas, but when I do, I often order a second one. That option was not even on the table on this occasion. Rating: Read more →

Lover of Life, Singer of Songs

 

I know the lyrics to a lot of songs . . . not current hits so much but if we’re listening to an oldies type of radio station, which we, the Epps family, are doing in the car right now, I pretty much know every song they play. “I should be a singer,” I announce. “I would have a tremendous repertoire of songs.” “But you can’t sing,” my son says. “Hmmm . . . that’s a legitimate point that I don’t really have an answer for.” Read more →

Throwback Cousin Photos

 

My wife found a photo this weekend of our son and his cousin Kao. Casey was 5 years old in this photo and Kao was 11. She lives in Thailand but was visiting us in La Verne. I don’t remember this photo. I like it because I don’t remember the overall tenor of Kao’s visit being this pleasant. Casey had never had to share his mom’s attention and he wasn’t happy about it, especially since she talked with Kao in a foreign language that he didn’t understand. Here’s what they look like now (Kao on the left, another cousin, Tammy, on the right): Read more →

Lasts

 

End-of-winter-break dinner at BJ’s Brewhouse, after which the boy headed back to school for his final semester . . . Read more →

It Is Hard Living Down the Tempers We Are Born With

 

Once an angry man dragged his father along the ground through his own orchard. “Stop!” cried the groaning old man at last, “Stop! I did not drag my father beyond this tree.” It is hard living down the tempers we are born with. We all begin well, for in our youth there is nothing we are more intolerant of than our own sins writ large in others and we fight them fiercely in ourselves; but we grow old and we see that these our sins are of all sins the really harmless ones to own, nay that they give a charm to any character, and so our struggle with them dies away. — Gertrude Stein, The Making of Americans Read more →

Mothers Day is the Biggest Headache on the Calendar

 

[Editor’s Note: Obviously I disagree with this egregious opinion, but I’m committed to hosting a wide range of viewpoints. — PE] You have mothers, you have wives who are also mothers, you have daughters who are also mothers . . . attention has to be divided and no one is satisfied with her share of the pie. As a son, husband and/or father, you can’t win, it’s just a question of how badly you’re going to lose. Women are bitching on the run-up to Mothers Day, they’re bitching on Mothers Day, and they’re laying down ground rules regarding what they will and will not put up with on next year’s Mothers Day. It’s a big foofaraw and nobody’s happy. Conversely, on Fathers Day, everyone’s as happy as a lark, despite the fact that Fathers Day is commemorated, in my family at least, by absolutely nothing. Read more →

Happy Mothers Day!

 

Hi Mom! It’s me, Lightning! Happy Mothers Day! Sometimes I wonder if you’re still alive. I know you could be, even though I’m almost 70 years old myself. Here’s a recent picture of me . . . I’m taking a lot of naps now that I’m older. Although come to think of it, I took a lot of naps when I was younger too! I can’t move my legs very well now — my back legs, mostly. They don’t hurt, but I can’t feel them very much and I can’t tell where they are. It’s funny that I used to be the fastest pug and now I’m the slowest. I remember you told me that dogs teach people about two things: Unconditional love, and Nothing lasts forever. Everything ends so don’t take anything for granted, even for one day. If you don’t hear from me next Mothers Day, it’s not… Read more →

You Sat There All Your Life

 

The taste of self-inflicted suffering, of an evening trashed in spite, brought curious satisfactions. Other people stopped being real enough to carry blame for how you felt. Only you and your refusal remained. And like self-pity, or like the blood that filled your mouth when a tooth was pulled — the salty ferric juices that you swallowed and allowed yourself to savor — refusal had a flavor for which a taste could be acquired. . . . And if you sat at the dinner table long enough, whether in punishment or in refusal or simply in boredom, you never stopped sitting there. Some part of you sat there all your life. — Jonathan Franzen, The Corrections Read more →

Please Look After Mom by Kyung-Sook Shin

 

This book should be read by everyone — especially anyone with grown children and/or older parents. Read more →

The Season’s Upon Us

 

There’s bells and there’s holly, the kids are gung-ho True love finds a kiss beneath fresh mistletoe Some families are messed up while others are fine If you think yours is crazy, well you should see mine — “The Season’s Upon Us,” Dropkick Murphys Read more →

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