Loud Thoughts

Silicon valley does not have black-tie events, at least I have never been to one. Whatever function, you can pretty much show up as “business casual” — jacket, dress pants, shoes, shirt but no tie. When I learned the event in Beijing has a black-tie dress code, I researched to make sure. I needed to wear a bow-tie and a “dinner jacket” or tuxedo. The bow-tie does not need to be black.

Bow-tie? There are three kinds: clip-on, pre-tied, and do-it-yourself. Clip-on bow-ties are for kids and not cool. Most people buy “pre-tied” ones — perfectly tied and look exactly like the real one. I bought a real one: black too.

That provided the family entertainments for few days.

The instructions are hard to decipher. After practicing on an imaginary neck, on my knee, and on my wife’s wrists, I managed something that looks like a bow-tie. But even after I have lengthened it to the maximum, it still chokes my windpipe. Too small! Does bow-tie come with sizes?

A trip back to the store answered the question definitively. “We carry only one size. Sir,” said the salesperson. “And we have sold it to people whose necks are bigger than yours.” OK, I got the hint. I will practice more.

By this time, my kid and her friend have declared it stupid (translate: they could not make it work). I am getting the general accusatory hint of, “You should have bought a pre-tied one.” But I am now stubbornly obsessed. When no one is around, I practiced in front of the mirror. It became easier. Make a knot, make a loop, tighten, tuck, and adjust.

The event came and I managed a quite passable and comfortable bow-tie on my neck. Of nearly 100 or so adult male in the event, I counted about 5 bow-ties. One looked real; others are definitely pre-tied. It was a fun night: swinging music, pleasant company, and delicious foods.

The return of investing so much time practicing an obscure skill that is not likely to be applied frequently is not high. I thought of the great female gender that makes such investments frequently (a dress, a swim-suit, an accessory, a hair-do, etc.). The thought did not last long. I collapsed into my home pillow (so nice). It is nice to spend an evening with my loved ones: Bow-tie or not.

A chimney is a mental cylinder that is roughly half a foot in diameter and a food long. It is the best and cheapest way to light charcoals.

In the US, you buy bags of charcoals from the store. They are uniformly shaped black objects each the size of a baby’s fist. Vendors, such as Kingsford, heat up woods in the absence of air, pulverize the charcoals, and form them with molds.

In US, Labor Day is always the 1st Monday of September. This is the unofficial end of the summer and I usually celebrated with my world-famous BBQ.

We would rub the ribs with garlic, soy sauce, salt and pepper. Wait few hours.

Have one chimney of charcoals, light a piece of newspaper under, and wait patiently for 15 minutes until the smoke becomes blue.

Divide the hot and ashed charcoals into 2 piles and push them as far away from the center — leaving a long rectangular of space.

Carefully position the ribs to be exposed to as little direct heat as possible. The job is pretty much 95% done.

Close the lid, open the beers, play few catches with kids, or chase dogs around the backyard. Do nothing to the meat. Watch the smoke.

After about 45 minutes, the smoke thins out. Time to act. Open the lid, move the meat away, add charcoals, mix them up, divide them to the sides again, throw a big lump of previously soaked barks into the center, put the meat back on.

Wait! Don’t close the lid. Stick a hand on top of the meat and try to count to 5. If can’t, it is hot enough.

Close the lid. White smoke churns out from the vent and that is beautiful.

About 40 minutes more, time to call the kids, and take the order of which BBQ sauce they want. I offer 3 kinds: the standard bottled BBQ sauce, pure honey, or my secret recipe: lemon juice, honey, and pepper.

The most popular one? Nothing. The rib will be golden in color, the meat will be falling off from the bones, the smoking gives a wonderful aroma, the meat exhibits a layer of reddish darkened color. I usually sample few pieces to make sure everything is right. Man, they are finger licking good.

It turns out May Day is the International Labor Day. Contrary to what I thought, it is not a communist’s celebration. In 1886, US workers, demanding 8-hour work day and other protections, had a large scale strike in Chicago. Eventually, this concept became part of the social norm around the world. Funny that as the world celebrate this day that originated from the US, it is largely ignored or more associated with the call of distress when an airplane faces imminent danger.

My regular readers will notice the new banner on the top. I stitched together few pictures taken when I was in ShunXin. I was in fact trying to redo my blog site completely, but Roller is harder than I thought.

Easter Bunny and Easter Eggs! Most kids in US associate this day with a ritual of Easter Eggs Hunt and eating chocolate rabbits. Supposedly, Easter Bunny would place colored eggs around the house, in the yard, or in the park. Kids are to find as many as they could. Few use real eggs anymore. They are now plastic ones filled with candies, or simply egg-shaped chocolates. Color eggs are a common decoration. A pot of boiled eggs, few containers of dyes, newspapers covering the surfaces, adults and kids gather around and make a mess of themselves — healthy, family fun.

I think Easter Bunny is the first kids grow out of, much earlier than Santa Claus or Tooth Fairy.

Originally, it is a fertility holiday. Easter is near the Vernal Equinox when lives and growth are conspicuous. Rabbits and eggs are symbols for proliferation. “Hunting” for eggs are good exercises and eggs are supposed to be treats in the old days when cholesterol was associated with tasty foods.

The exact day for Easter is just about the most complicated calendrical computation. Commonly understood, it is the 1st Sunday after the full moon that is on or after the Vernal Equinox. For 2007, it is April 8th.

Folk festival quickly became religious. First came Passover —
the tenth plague inflicted on Egyptians who enslaved Jews. On that day, Angel of Death took the lives of the 1st born sons of every household, unless the house was marked with lamb’s blood. He then passed over that door and proceeded to the next. After this plague, Egyptian Pharaoh admitted defeat and freed Jews. Officially, Passover starts on the 15th day of the 7th month (called Nisan) in Jewish calendar and lasts for 7 or 8 days. Usually, Passover is a week before Easter and coincides with Palm Sunday where the Easter celebration begins. The movies, Ten Commandments, has the most authentic description of this event. 🙂

Few thousands years after the 1st Passover, we have the resurrection of Jesus Christ. It evolved into a complex holiday season no less important than Christmas. The holiday begins with Good Friday — the day Jesus died. By Biblical scriptures, Jesus came back to life few days later: on Easter.

46 days before Easter is Ash Wednesday when 40 days of Lent begins. During these 40 days, Christians prepare for the celebration of Jesus’s resurrection and refrain from eating meats. Lent excludes Sundays and therefore ends on Easter.

Around this week started both the Jewish Nation and Christianity. For thousands of years, people celebrate this week for spring, lives, and births. Whatever faith, or none, you have, these are certainly things you appreciate.

Happy Passover/Easter.

Back when I was in Menlo Park, I jogged on this trail few times a week. Out the gate, round the marsh land, you are on this 10-foot wide paved path. One side, cars linger on the speed from the last downhill stretch of Dumbarton bridge. They zoom by hurrying to somewhere.

The other side is a different world. The salt pond is eerie. It is white like a different planet and life-lessly still. Surrounding it are marsh full of water fouls: ducks, pelicans, egrets, sandpipers, seagulls, etc. Some squarrels, or so I think, are busy going in and out of their burrows. Others stand motionlessly, except of heads following you slowly, for their sun bath.

I always make a dramatic slap on the sign before I take up the return trip. At that point, if you are driving, you will turn left onto Marsh Road and get onto Highway 101, heading San Francisco.

Sun campus is the homing beacon. The view is spetacular at times. But I usually get into the “zone” near Chrysler Drive. Muscles are tired, breaths are heavy, sweat gets into eyes, and mind turns blank. I changed into a single-minded machine with the goal of reaching back the gym. The world is the metronomic beats of shoes pounding the road. Nothing else exists.

I always liked San Francisco Bay Area. Before I moved to Beijing, I did not appreciate it as I should.