June 5, 2010

Tommy on the Big Red Balls at Singapore Urban Attack.

This post is just for Gary!

First, here is the correct way to throw a cast net.

And second, here is a tutorial...

And just because it's cool, here's a Puffer Fish that Jacey caught in her throw net.

April 11, 2010

Jacey and Mia having a great time!

April 2, 2010

Jacey and Tucker on the Trapeeze in Phuket, Thailand, Easter weekend.

March 29. 2010

Nothing terribly funny this week (or maybe prior week’s either for that matter!) unless you count me not giving Tucker enough cab money to get to basketball practice in a driving rainstorm. He didn’t think it was too funny. Nor did the cabbie, who’s scheduled to stop by to pick up his 7 dollars and 25 cents. Sing.

Just a few thoughts about our trip to Vietnam. Pictures are on the website: www.mathii.com/Hanoi.html

• Vietnam Ponderings

o We spent Spring Break in Hanoi, as one does. It’s Asian-French, communist and capitalist, and definitely loud.

o The Traffic -- There were more motorcycles and mopeds than I’ve ever seen. And everyone honks. Crossing the street is like the video game Frogger. We had been told the best way to cross the street was to just go, go slow, go steady, just go and the motorcycle waters will part. That first time was a little nerve wracking, but then it got easier. Step off the curb, find an opening and go. Miraculously, the speeding motorcycles and mopeds and bicycles and cars don’t hit you. I think a blind man could cross the street there. Traffic was slow everywhere we went, but it was steady, there were no crazy fast drivers, and there was never a jam. In many ways it was much more civilized even with the incessant honking than Singapore or the U.S.

o The Communists – Other than the flag, there were no outwards signs of this being a Communist country. Our guide, who is now my authority on all things Vietnam, said that the people don’t like the government because it is corrupt. But there is little or no resistance to it. North and South, together for ages now, still seem to be leery of each other.

o The Paper – Hanoi had the best English language newspaper we’ve read in Asia. Great international news but with a bent towards Russia, Cuba, and China.



o The War – When I hear “Vietnam”, the war is first thing I think of as I assume most Americans do. The Vietnamese call it the “American War”, which makes sense. But other than a few museums there are no signs of the war, there are no references to it in shops, or in the attitudes of the folks we met. My evaluation is that it was 35 years ago, a generation and a half, they’ve moved on. For the Vietnamese, the “American War” was sandwiched between a 10 year war with France for independence, and another 10 year war/occupation of Cambodia, and then the merging of the two formerly warring Vietnams. They’ve had a lot to worry about, and it doesn’t appear they’ve had the time or inclination for grudges. Of course, the winners don’t often hold grudges.


o The Prison – Two interesting observations about the 100 year old Hanoi Hilton. The exhibits were very bent towards the horrible treatment the French gave the Vietnamese prisoners, and the “good” treatment the Vietnamese gave to the American pilots. Certainly not very objective, but if it were my museum… One thing our guide said was very interesting. While discussing the museum he said, “After the Russians defeated the Germans in World War II, we began our battle with the French.” Technically he’s correct, but it’s an interesting and contrarian to our American perspective.

o The People – These are the tiniest people I’ve ever seen, yet somehow I gained 10 more pounds. Jacey was even taller than some of the aunties. They were friendly but with reservations. In contrast, in Cambodia and Thailand, everyone is happy and always smiling at the Caucasians; In Vietnam, there wasn’t anything bad or uncomfortable, just not total enthusiasm that we were there.

o The Food – Didn’t have a single thing that was bad. But didn’t have a single thing that made me want to come home and learn to cook it. Vietnam is the 2nd largest exporter of rice after Thailand; just about every meal had or could have had rice. It’s a different type of rice, a smaller grain half the size of a regular rice grain; I’d never had it before.

o The Longhorns -- We came out of the Prison Museum and were searching for a Cyclo to take for a ride. There was a lone driver resting before pedaling large American tourists around the Old Quarter. It was fate. Somewhere, another travelling Longhorn is writing about giving his favorite cap away. (We had to teach him how to Hook ‘em though)

OK, one funnier Vietnam story...

I wanted a shirt with the Vietnamese, yellow star on it to match my Chinese red star shirt. We stopped in a shop and I tried on an XL. I could tell from looking that it wouldn’t quite fit. In the US, an XL always fits. On a really good day, an L is feasible if the day doesn’t include eating. I went to a 2XL. I looked like Simon Cowell it was so tight. I usually quit there because the shapes get all out of proportion above extra large, but these were kind of normal. I pulled on an XXXL. It was still tight in the stomach. By now it was just a game. The XXXXL was still a little snug. I was certain I had reached the top, or the bottom of her pile of shirts. But the smiley lady dug deep and found an XXXXXL. Yes, a 5XL is the size I wear in Vietnam.

March 13, 2010

I coached Jacey’s softball game Saturday morning. I can hear my parents laughing from here. After that grounder jumped up and hit me in the nose in fourth grade (many, many years ago – but I still remember) I never really cared for baseball. I got t-shirt and cap though.

A friend of ours played Happy Birthday to me on his bagpipes Saturday night at a St. Patrick’s Day party on his 27th floor patio. After many, many birthdays, that’s a first.

March 9, 2010

Dear sweet little Jacey had her first confession this afternoon. She is well on her way to her first communion in May. She’s been studying and learning her Act of Contrition and Hail Mary’s and all that other Catholic voodoo stuff.

We walked into the church and sat with her classmates. As the first classmate went, she looked over her shoulder and watched with a bit of trepidation. She was a little scared and readily admitted it. I wanted to help. Out of the blue I remembered how I used to tease Tucker before his first confession to ease the tension. I would remind him to be sure to confess everything to the priest, especially the part about… and then I’d make up something silly. Tucker thought it was hilarious 3 years ago. So I leaned over and told Jacey the story. Soon it was her turn.

The priest was in the back of sanctuary, far enough that you couldn’t hear, but close enough to see. Jacey sat down in front of the priest and there was a bit of crossing and chanting and incense, and then the priest, who had been very serious with the previous students, leaned back in his chair, chuckled and began to smile. Jacey had a big grin and looked our way. They continued talking and smiling and smiling and talking. This wasn’t like any of the other kid’s confession. What had I done?

As we walked to the car, we asked what she confessed. What had she said that made the priest laugh? She didn’t want to tell. We begged. She hesitated. Then giggling: I told him my Dad said that I should say I once killed a man in Tennessee! And that sometimes I roll my eyes. And I hit my brother.

We’re going to have to change churches. Maybe it’s time to move back to Austin.