soldier, scholar, horseman, he...

Teddy Roosevelt was a man, but not just any man. He was the very model of a guy's definition of a masculine man. He was both politician and cowboy, soldier and peacemaker. He holds the distinction of being the only man to ever earn both the medal of honor as a soldier, and the nobel peace prize as a statesman. He wrote books, hunted in the jungle, and explored nature all at the same time. He was the original Chuck Norris. During an assassination attempt at a campaign rally, a man put a bullet in his chest. Since he wasn't coughing up blood, he surmised that his lungs were ok, and proceeded to deliver a 90-minute speech before going to the hospital. History has generally accepted all of this as part of the rough rider Teddy Roosevelt persona. Only, don't call him Teddy. Apparently he found it vulgar and felt it was "an outrageous impertinence" (yep, he even used big words like impertinence). Yes, Roosevelt was a man, much like how John Wayne, Clint Eastwood, and Chuck Norris are men. I'm reminded of a piece of the poem by W.B. Yeats, written in honor of a friend (and from which the title of this post was borrowed). I sometimes wonder if the poet had men like Roosevelt in mind when he penned these words:

Soldier, scholar, horseman, he,

And all he did done perfectly

As though he had but that one trade alone.

When I read stories and biographies about guys like Roosevelt, I tend to think that this guy's amazing, that he must be what a lot of guys aspire to be; basically, the model of manliness. I'm not sure if girls look at other women and think, that's a woman. She's the definition of what being a woman embodies (I don't think so?). For a lot of guys, we instinctively see others that may be more manly, exhibit more masculine qualities and think, woahhh, that guy's crazy. I think that's why guys like Bear Grylls (man vs wild) and Chuck Norris get the majority of their fans. Of course, not every guy thinks this is the ideal manliness, and so for those guys there are the Hugh Grants and the John Mayers, ones that can showcase the sensitive and/or musical side of guys. Of course we must not forget the funny guys and the sad-but-determined guys. With the world giving us so many different (and often times conflicting) images of what guys are supposed to be like, figuring out what kind of guy characteristics to espouse is pretty difficult.

Going off a previous post, I've been learning about how a man made in the image of God ought to be, while at the same time retaining a God-equipped sense of what it means to be a man. The problem is (at least for me), how do I fend off that impulse to want to be more like those particular men, to return to what the world has deemed to be the model of what a manly man ought to be? Every once in a while I'll watch man vs wild or any Denzel Washington movie and feel inadequate about myself as a man. Those guys are out there doing some pretty butch stuff, and I sit in a cubicle and work all day in front of a computer. Not exactly inspirational stuff.

The thing is, that isn't how God created me. Sure, I could try to pursue that kind of masculinity by attempting to be more like that guy ( maybe...Roosevelt's pretty crazy...), but it's not what God may have intended for me. How do I know? I don't know for sure; however, my (occasionally flawed) logic is this: for me, trying to be masculine in the way like the guys in tv/movies (Denzel charging on the fort in Glory, Bear Grylls getting water from his own poop, etc.) the main motivation is to look and feel better about myself. It's a self-centered motivation to become more masculine. Basically, it's in some ways trying to glorify myself, whereas God wants us to glorify Him.

Of course, coming to this realization alone is only maybe the first 10% of a lifelong journey. In essence, it doesn't really mean squat if I can come to this realization. What I choose to do with this realization is much more important than actually having the realization itself. It's like the Israelites in Egypt. It took them so long just to be persuaded by Moses to trust in God enough to get up and leave Egypt, and even that took ten plagues and some serious arm-twisting. Then it takes the Israelites another forty years of wandering in the desert for them to learn to obey God fully and make Him the center of their lives, and even then it was a constant struggle to keep them in line.

For me, trying to discover what God has intended for me to be as a man is something I should have done a long time ago, but the journey itself is what I would characterize as the full measure of the experience. It's not like I'm going to finish this book, and there, now I know what it means to be a man. No, I don't think that's the intended purpose of the book or the journey. Rather, it's intended to make me aware of the journey that I'm already on, and to make me understand and take and active part in the experience. Ok this isn't exactly chapter three from the book, but rather something that's been on my mind recently.

RIP conversation.

Ohh no. I didn't mean to do it. There really wasn't any choice, it was an unfortunate turn of events. Upon boarding the red-eye flight to Atlanta, I moseyed down the aisle with my kindle and boarding pass in one hand, backpack in the other, eyes peeled for 18E. Oh great, E. Of course, for the five hour cross-country leg of the flight, it'd be middle seat (granted it was exit aisle). As I came upon the row, I notice a nice older gentleman with salt/pepper hair sitting in 18D, striking up a conversation with 18F, a businesswoman that looked like she was headed straight for an early morning meeting. I'm assuming these two had just met since they were shaking hands, and as I approach the row, I could overhear them taking about work and why they were traveling that day.

They seemed to be having quite the da-ba-doo time, looking slightly nervously at the oncoming line of people, secretly hoping that nobody would be sitting in the middle seat. How do I know? I perfected the look on southwest - slightly disgruntled face while arm slightly hanging over into the middle seat to make it seem less attractive to other passengers. Sorry folks. As I arrived at row 18, I quickly stuffed my backpack in the overhead bin and motioned that I was going to be sitting in 18E, right between the two. I don't have a choice, it's the seat they gave me. I sat down, careful not to bump either of them. They both smile politely, gave each other a nod, and that was it. The dynamic shifted - silence. No continued conversation, no talks of work or travel, just silence. Weird. That was the moment the conversation died.

It wasn't like I could really help it, I had to sit down, but at the same time, I knew it was going to be a little weird, since they were talking so nicely. I offered to switch with one of them, but by then the conversation was dead, and talking to me just wasn't the same, so both politely refused. *sigh* deep down I knew I had conversatory blood on my hands, I was responsible for the end of the chitchat. As the plane taxied down toward the runway, the headphones went in and the e-book came out. This was going to be a long flight.

50 beans | in the majority

In an interesting statistic lifted from Oliver Strand's NYT blog-post, I presumed to have found myself in the company of a surprisingly small minority of coffee drinkers out there (at least I thought I was, more on that in a bit). Apparently, in a survey of a handful of coffee shop owners in NYC, regular espresso accounts for roughly 5% of their total sales. Most americans will drink espresso-based drinks (i.e. cappuccinos and lattes), but not many people will order a straight espresso, which I've noticed a lot these days. Heck, I even got called out (in a good-humored way) the other day on my coffee ordering. A buddy of mine commented that the double espresso I've made my morning habit is actually technically a macchiato since I do add a bit of cream to it (I protested slightly before finally getting wikipedia'd). So yes, I drink espresso, but with some cream (I still refuse to call it by any fancy names).

The main exception to that is at Temple, where the barista will actually shoot you the stink-eye if you carry their demitasse cup anywhere near the cream bottle, as if you're there to deface their cream and sugar station. The guilt trip at Temple to drink your espresso straight is quite a heavy load, and you should sit quietly and obediently drink your espresso with the ever-so-slight sips. Asking for a take-out cup for your espresso will draw the same measure of stink-eye from the barista. Of course they're there to maintain the purity of the espresso, which I guess I can respect, but at the same time lighten up a little!

Somehow somewhere I think people (maybe incorrectly) get the impression that espresso is simply for the hardcore coffee drinkers, and I think some of the attitudes of coffee places can, at times, give that impression. In the world of coffee, straight espresso drinkers make up the 5%, and the rest of the 95% are comfortable with the cappuccinos and lattes, and yes, the macchiatos (yup... we are the 95!). But before you go and Occupy your nearest local coffee-shop, paint picket signs, and stop taking showers, please bear in mind that, at the end of the day, coffee is good, and meant to be enjoyed whichever way you'd like.

noodles, poop-notes, and books

Even though I've been living in davis in the few years since graduation, I rarely ever venture back on campus, unless it's to go to a specific place, like Mrak to pick up a diploma, mondavi to take in a performance, or the MU to go play pool. Other than that, I generally tend to shy away from campus. It's not that I don't like being on campus, but I never really have a reason to bum around there. Well, on Friday I had nothing to do, so after meeting up with Yingnan at Pho King 4 (horrible name btw) we ventured out on campus for a little bookstore/quad/arboretum adventure. But more on that in a moment. First, comes the pho.

The minute I walked into PK4, the smell hits my nose, that mixture of pho broth and cilantro is pretty strong there, which was weird because in my mind I was still going to orange hut. Heck, even uncle tom (the old orange hut guy) was there to greet us, as he was sitting at a table by the door enjoying his pho with some buddies. We quickly said hi and waited our turn to get seated. After we sat down and ordered, we (well, I) pretty much compared everything to hoa viet, as, having been in davis for so long with really only one pho place, I've gotten used to their food. By the time the food came, we were so hungry that we dug in and completely forgot to snap a picture of the food. Not to worry, it pretty much looked like this:

The pho was ok, nothing too phenomenal. Actually, it tasted kind of like hoa viet, which has by now become my measuring stick (I know, could've definitely picked a better place). While I was comparing the food/service to hoa viet, Yingnan was comparing the place (setting) to orange hut. Aside from the fact that uncle tom was still there, the place has changed quite a bit on the inside. Apparently there was a new door, and the counter shifted over a bit. Other than that I couldn't notice anything different, although I'm sure Yingnan definitely did. One thing I did notice, the coffee was a bit too sweet. Oh yes, did I forget to mention that I ordered coffee? The cà phê su dá came already pre-iced (robbing me the ritual of pouring it myself), but it did look promising (aside from the sweetness...oh well). This, of course, was captured on camera (only the important stuff...).

After downing the coffee and pho, we venture out on campus for a fun afternoon of bumming around. First we hit up the bookstore to see if they have any good UCD t-shirts. I don't know why, but I always feel like I have absolutely zero school spirit. It was time to remedy that with a t-shirt! After circling for a few minutes and staring wide-eyed at the prices of shirts these days ($28!!) we grew sad and decided to check out some other stuff. Apparently, they have started making notebooks out of recycled cow, elephant, and donkey poo. While I'm sure it was a novel idea, I just don't see how feasible this would be. I don't know if this would be very effective for note-taking, as the pages were kind of rough (their diets are very fibrous), although I'm sure to the parent's chagrin, the students these days would find it amusing.

sandwich boards!! I remember these from compass, but now it seems everybody has one...

On a side note, after mike and I started talking with random people (alex at OTH and Kim at the pool hall), I've been running into these people at random places in Davis. The other day I ran into Kim at hometown, and on friday, we see both! Kim had wandered into PK4 and Alex was hanging out in the MU coffee house. I'm not sure if God's trying to send me messages, but it was definitely strange.

this guy has opted to park his bike in a tree...novel.

After leaving the bookstore and coffee house, we decided to take a leisurely stroll around campus. Having not been here for quite some time, I took in all the sights and smells of campus. We pretty much just strolled around and looked at some random stuff. We encountered random people (including a 50 yr. old guy who overheard us talking about 50 yr. old grad students) and stared at random things (like bridge support mechanisms). Finally, as Yingnan and I parted ways, I decided to pay my old college professor a visit (the one who guided me through my research paper on banking contagion).

She was still in the same old office, working tirelessly to get published (she's up for tenure next fall). It was pretty cool to catch up and talk about old economic theories (I still got it!) and current reading lists. It's funny, we're actually reading almost the same things, since she is going through The Rise and Fall of Alexandria, and apparently just finished John Adams (David McMullough - same guy that wrote 1776!). She even named a working paper after Team of Rivals (a book on Lincoln - on my reading list too). Apparently both she and her husband are avid history readers, and acquired most of the David McCullough books while Borders was closing. Sadly, since I parked in a meter zone, I had to conclude the catching-up and history book-a-thon and get going. I said farewell, promised to visit soon, and headed on my way.

As I was walking to my car, I looked back at campus once more, taking in the familiar sights of the bus area at the MU and quietly entertained the idea of possibly going back to school once more. While no decisions were made over the course of this on-campus adventure, I could certainly see myself thrown back into the college life.

shaken awake

At work, we used to have this thing called Rewarding Action, which allowed managers to give out "points" for performance, which you can then use on the website to get prizes and stuff. Since the program recently got phased out, I had to use up all the points I had received over the last few years and buy random stuff before they closed down the site. One of the items I claimed was this thing called the iLuv, which is a pretty cool alarmclock ipod dock thing (though it seemed kinda sketchy since it started at 75pts and dropped down to 20). The coolest thing about this alarm, aside from the fact that the face doubles as a night light (which I don't need, cuz real men sleep in the pitch dark - so I'm told), is this little feature called the bed shaker.

Now, you may roll your eyes and say pshh, that's just a marketing ploy, that's not really gonna work. Wrong. It may be a marketing ploy, but it shook my jetlagged butt out of bed in a jiffy. See, this alarm comes with an attachment that you can put under your pillow or next to your face (probably not advised), and at the designated time, the alarm on the nightstand will blast 107.3 at the same time that your bed-shaker beeps and shakes the wrinkles out of your pillow (or your face - again, not advised). The shake (albeit slightly violent) helps motivate you to whack the snooze button with a little extra zip, and the speaker/shaker provide a little bit of david crowder to wake you up slowly (or Bublé, whatever floats your boat).

Weird? Sure. But I guess whatever gets me out of bed in the morning eh?

flipping through some family history

Over this past week or so, one of the things that has helped me cope with my grandpa's passing and all the stuff I was experiencing was combing through old photo albums that my grandpa and aunt kept around. Even now, it's a bit theraputic to be able to look into the past and see what my family was like. Back then, the albums weren't really arranged in such a neat order, and they weren't really organized into its current state until about 2 years ago when my aunt sat down and took on the task.

I still remember huddling around some of these albums as a kid, and listening to my grandpa tell the stories around each of these pictures, and explaining his life experiences to me as I marveled at the images on each page. He'd regale me with tales of his college days, what life was like in california in the 40's, how our family almost went to taiwan, and how my dad used to walk miles to school (uphill both ways - some things never change). I, of course, played the wide-eyed kid soaking up all of these stories.

Originally I had wanted to bring back some of these pictures for my dad to see, but since we couldn't find the negatives, and I wished to keep the original albums intact, I ended up taking pictures of the pictures (so some had glare). I might as well share them, since I had them on my camera:

it's pretty cool to see my grandpa grow up on one page - this has everything from kid to graduation to working

my grandparents over the years - this album page remind me of the opening scene in Up.

my dad's family back in 1962

my dad with my grandma and her brothers - clearly the awesome hair genes didn't make its way down

dad, with what would appear to be a weird looking snowman...or a snow-turkey?

my dad growing up - he must've really like the emo poses

dad after college, working, and meeting mom - I don't know why, but he wasn't much for smiling in pictures

heck yea I smiled, apparently this was the first time my grandpa got me a coke...it was magical

Flipping through pages of these single frame stories were a good way for me to distract myself ever-so-slightly from everything going on around me. It helped me put things into perspective. The person lying in the bed in front of you isn't just someone you love dying, there's the full measure of the human experience of life, the memories, the joys and pains, the childhood laughs and the growing pains of adulthood. It was good to see the life my grandpa enjoyed before my eyes, my mind filling in the blanks of the stories that the pictures don't tell.

Well, it's time for me to go to bed. Have a good night.

我的爷爷

爷爷, 我非常感谢你以前照顾我,每天带我去公园里走. 我对你很有感情, 也很高兴你性耶稣,而经常为你祷告. 不知道你明白了, 上个星期, 不但我在你床边祷告, 而有很多人一直也在为你祷告. 虽然你不见得明白, 我们每天早晚在你床边坐了. 爷爷, 我真的很高兴你性主, 而虽然我们现在分开了, 但是信主了, 我们将来都会在天堂见面. 爷爷, 再见. 

亦何