Archive | November, 2006

Entregando Los Tenis

30 Nov

A few years ago, my mother had a heart attack.  The event scared her because she thought she was “entregando los tenis.”  Basically, my very active mother thought her number was up, and her phrase for that wasn’t something as irrelevant to us as “kicking the bucket,” but something more practical and to the point, like “the time has come to turn in my tennis shoes.”  Every now and then (mostly when she wants to make the point that I’ve disappointed her) she reminds me that she’s ready to “entregar los tenis.”  I’ve finally learned to respond that that I’m going to buy her a bunch of pairs of Keds so that she doesn’t ever have to give them back or hand them in.

 © Laura Genao 2006

Thinking About Laughter

29 Nov

I was looking for a book to make me laugh out loud, so I decided to reread Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood.   Because the book does make me work my abs through laughter, this time around I was struck by the description of laughter contained in its first few pages.  I think my laugh is like Vivi’s or the “mama” in this passage. 

Oh, how Mama and the Ya-Yas laughed! . . . Caro’s chortle sounded like a grin doing a polka.  Teensy’s giggle had a bayou flavor, as if somebody sprinkled Tabasco on it.  Necie’s hee-hee-hee sounded exactly like that.  And Mama’s head-thrown-back, open-back, open-throated roar always made people turn around and look at her when she laughed in public.

Let me know if you have any books that make you embarrass yourself through laughter.

© Laura Genao 2006

The Things Moms Say

28 Nov

My mom and I were sitting at the dining room table arguing about when it is appropriate to take out the trash (a worthwhile mother-daughter topic) when she got up and ended the argument by stating, ”tu te crees mucho porque estas flaquita.”  Her attempt to end the debate by telling me I was full of myself because I am thin sent me into hysterics. 

I am neither thin, nor particularly arrogant.  And, if I am arrogant it isn’t because I’m now a size 12 and not the high end of 14 (as I was for the past few years).   My mom’s remark was a funny reminder of the things parents think about their offspring (ok, or maybe it’s just my mom and what she thinks of me).

© Laura Genao 2006

Ya No Hay Más–Raul Velasco Dead at 73

27 Nov

Raul Velasco died yesterday.  For those of us raised by Mexican parents, this means a lot.  The guy was the host of a weekly, three-hour-long variety program named “Siempre en Domingo.” 

As its name suggests, the show was on every Sunday night and we watched it (some of us were forced to), every Sunday night.  We made fun of it, calling it ”Siempre en lo Mismo” or “Siempre es lo Mismo” because many of the musicians who appeared, appeared week, after week, after week.  We also made fun of that little hand sign, that now looks like a gang sign, he made that signaled “aun hay mas” or “there’s more to come.”  We hated the show when Raul got ill and his daughter tried to fill in. (more…)

Holiday Card-i-ology

27 Nov

I am not a holiday person. 

I don’t get up at the crack of dawn on Black Friday to go shopping (ok, in the interest of full disclosure, my sister did drag me to Downtown Crossing in Boston, once–I was in college, and we were young).  I’m also fortunate because I do not have to buy many gifts (mom has declared this year a no gift year), and I relish this good luck. 

I also don’t put up Christmas lights, wreaths, or a tree (again, my sister once made me do this and I won’t ever again, and, to illustrate our differences, she called this weekend to report that she’d pulled out all her holiday decorations, and, to my dismay, it seems my two-year-old niece is impressionable and enjoying the bright lights and colors of the season). 

I do, however, really, really, really enjoy sending holiday cards.  Despite my desire to be totally low key about Christmas and my desire not to buy unnecessary items for people who already have everything under the sun, I love holiday cards.  I love thinking that for a split second, I’ve made my friends laugh and know that I’m thinking of them.

My love of holiday cards forced me to start my holiday shopping just before Halloween at THE BEST CARD SHOP EVER–Pulp, 456 S. La Brea, L.A.  That’s near the corner of 6th and La Brea for those of you who are local.  (No, I’m not obsessive or compulsive or overly organized, it’s just that if you don’t buy them before Thanksgiving, a lot of the good cards are gone).

The cards at this shop are funny, political, sarcastic, politically correct, snarky, smart alecky, beautiful, large, small, you name it, they have it.  

Some of the cards they have can be found by going to the cards’ sources: 

www.smartalexinc.com;

www.mikwright.com; and

www.eevil.org.

Take a look and enjoy.  And, for those of you who’ll get one from me, they’re on their way (or at least they are for those blessed with first names in the early part of the alphabet).  For those I don’t get to before Christmas, just remember, I also love New Year’s cards. 

© Laura Genao 2006

Sunday Paper

26 Nov

I like reading the NY Times’ Sunday edition because I always find something interesting among its pages.  Today’s find was an ad on the last page of the Week in Review section.  It didn’t seem to advertise a product, and that was some of why it drew my attention.  Additionally, its author and words made me think in general about how peace is still a goal to strive for every day, even if you don’t agree with her or how she thinks or what she suggests.  The ad read:

FORGIVE US

December 8th is near again.  Every year on this day, I hear from many people from all over the world who remember my husband, John Lennon, and his message of peace.  They write to tell me they are thinking of John on this day and how he was shot and killed at the prime of his life, at age 40, when he had so much life ahead of him.

Thank you for your undying love for John and also for concern for me on this tragic anniversary.  This year, though, on December 8th, while we remember John, I would also like us to focus on sending the following messages to the millions of people suffering around the world:

To the people who have also lost loved ones without cause:  forgive us for having been unable to stop the tragedy.  We pray for the wounds to heal.

To the soldiers of all countries and of all centuries, who were maimed for life, or who lost their lives:  forgive us for our misjudgments and what happened as a result of them.

To the civilians who were maimed, or killed, or who lost their family members:  forgive us for having been unable to prevent it.

To the people who have been abused and tortured:  forgive us for having allowed it to happen.

Know that your loss is our loss.  Know that the physical and mental abuses you have endured will have a lingering effect on our society, and the world.  Know that the burden is ours.

As the widow of one who was killed by an act of violence, I don’t know if I am ready yet to forgive the one who pulled the trigger.  I am sure all victims of violent crimes feel as I do.  But healing is what is urgently needed now in the world.

Let’s heal the wounds together.

Every year, let’s make December 8th the day to ask for forgiveness from those who suffered the insufferable. 

Let’s wish strongly that one day we will be able to say that we healed ourselves and by healing ourselves, we healed the world.

With deepest love,

Yoko Ono Lennon

New York City 2006

© Laura Genao 2006

The Tooth Fairy is a Tired Stalker

25 Nov

A few nights ago, my neighbor’s pre-teen daughter, Bri, lost a tooth just before bedtime. Because the kid still believes in the Tooth Fairy, she looked at her mother and said, “Mom, all I hope the Tooth Fairy brings me is a South Dakota quarter.” Impressed by her daughter’s tenacious pursuit of the nation’s quarters and wanting to hold onto her daughter’s innocent belief in benevolent, otherworldy forces a little longer, my neighbor ignored her own fatigue from a long day of work and running her children around to endless seasons of after-work sporting events to go out for “an evening errand.”

She got into her PT Cruiser and zoomed down the hill. Going into the first gas station, which also doubles as a taco stand and bakery, she asked the evening gas attendant if he had any South Dakota quarters to exchange for the bicentennial quarter she held up to show him. He was puzzled by the request for only a half second before he obliged and looked through his change. “No,” he shook his head. (more…)

Turkey Confessions

22 Nov

Several years ago, my extremely practical mother decided to visit me in Philadelphia.  Although she was scared that her inability to understand English might leave her stranded in Phoenix or Washington D.C. as she navigated connecting flights, she made the trek east. 

Because she is practical, my mom decided to pack the 15-pound holiday turkey she’d been given as a morale boost earlier in the week by the hotel where she worked as a housekeeper.  She figured that since the turkey was too big for her to eat on her own, and I wouldn’t have one in Philadelphia (I don’t normally like turkey, but I’ll eat some of it if with others), an eight-hour long flight was justified for the bird.

But, baggage handling being what it is, my mother did not want the bird to get lost.  So, she packed the frozen bird into her bowling bag-style carry-on purse.  Because my mother doesn’t ever travel without packing and repacking often, she packed and repacked the turkey to determine how to best carry it onto the plane.  However, because she is a little clueless about the reaction of those around her to her oh-so-practical ideas, she gave remarkably little thought to the reaction an airport screener might have to the sight of a skeleton appearing on the baggage x-ray machine.   (more…)

Welcome Back, Mom

21 Nov

My mother has been visiting her small town of Buenaventura, Chihuahua in Mexico for the past two weeks.  I’ve missed her and some of the daily rituals in which we engage.  These rituals are, on occasion, annoying (i.e., the twice daily phone calls at times certain, the weekend manicure sessions, the early morning weekend walks, and the constant advice she feels the need to give), but I admit that I have missed the time they allow us to share.  In thinking about the fun times I have with my mom, I remembered a funny one, too. 

So, my mother is a limited English-speaker.  She can understand on occasion, but if things get too complicated, she doesn’t really get it.  This means that if you speak to her too quickly, or if you give her instructions, she doesn’t catch them.  Additionally, if the situation is a pressing one, as in you’re asking her to hurry her comprehension or make a quick decision, she reacts by going blind or deaf (I think she makes the latter up to mask her embarrassment at not being able to help, but I’ll let her believe she’s gone blind or deaf).

In any event, one of the things my mother has problems with is catching the callback numbers people leave on her answering machine.  Before she had a machine that could have its messages checked remotely, I had to go to her house to help her.  Then we got the machine.  Our first experiment in remote answering went like this:

Mom:  Me recoges el mensaje, por favor.

Me:  Sure.  I’ll just call and while the message is playing, punch in the code. 

Mom: Ok. 

Me: (I call my mom’s house). 

Mom:  Hello? 

Me:  Mom, you’re not supposed to answer. 

Mom:  Ok, ok. 

Me: (I call my mom’s house again). 

Mom:  Hello? 

Me:  MOM!! Don’t answer the phone! 

Mom:  Ok, but call me back.

Finally, on the third try we got it and haven’t had any issues since.  I think of this exchange often because it provides me with some insight into the difficulty of getting used to new things provided by the opportunity to live a long life, in a country with opportunities different than those you thought you would have. 

(more…)

First Impressions

20 Nov

I’ve never been a fan of the idea that one should always try to make a good first impression.  Normally, my aversion to this advice is rooted in the fact that those who say it are generally trying to convince me to wear a suit or makeup or be prim and proper and quiet.  It’s for that reason that I found it amusing to think about what the entrances to homes and businesses say about the pLiterate dogs, see here!!eople who live inside. 

This one has always struck me as odd.  Are the dogs in this Montecito Heights neighborhood supposed to read it and say, “Ooh, that fake dog scares me, stay off that grass.”  Silly people, dogs can’t read.  Just walk across your grass and you’ll see for yourself.

Apparently, animals are popular and even traditional entrances to homes.  Lions, for example, are often put out to symbolize courage.  I suppose the idea is that if you come near a home flanked by lions, you should expect courage and resistance from those inside.  flickrpipplongstockinglion.jpg

Such symbolism would seem to be turned on its head if one of the lions flanking the entrance to your home looks like this one seen in Boyle Heights.

Other entrances, are more personal and meaningful. A St. Louis Rams fan in Highland Park reserves his grand entrance for Sundays on which his favorite former L.A. football team plays.  On that day, he decks out his second floor landing, carefully avoiding fumes from the laundry room downstairs.

flickrramsfan.jpgI feel bad for the guy.  He used to leave his banners and flags out all weekend, but I think someone stole his stuff.  Now he puts them out first thing Sunday morning and puts them away late, late that night.  In addition to having to worry about Rams-loving thieves, his team is really bad.  Today, the Rams lost 15-0, giving them four wins and six losses so far this season. 

Despite the good laugh all of the previous front doors have given me, my favorite “item found outside an entrance” sits outside a drive thru dairy in Lincoln Heights.  This statue raises several questions.  Why is the hot dog draped in a U.S. flag?  Why is the hot dog wearing running shoes?  How did the hot dog lose his right hand?  And, finally, why is the hot dog shooting himself in the head with ketchup? 

flickrhotdog.jpg

© Laura Genao 2006

 

Got Vapoh Roob?

17 Nov

untitled2.jpgI’ve been thinking about wellness and how people try to cure illnesses ever since that lecture a few nights ago.  Mostly, I’ve been thinking about it because of the various home remedies associated with stories I’ve heard.  Here’s a brief list:

1)      Vapo Rub—I don’t know if it’s the case in all communities, but in the heavily Latino community where I was raised Vapoh Roob (as it is pronounced) is the ointment of the gods.  While it is often used in the ways recommended by the distinctive blue container (i.e., for relief of muscles aches and coughing by either direct application and inhalation), in my neighborhood, Vapoh Roob is also believed be an effective treatment for chapped lips, eye sties, and for those who don’t really have asthma, but whose parents think they should just generally have clearer nasal passages.  My poor friend William says of his excessive exposure to Vapoh Roob, “I’m the only 36-year-old Cuban I know who doesn’t have chest hair.  My mom must’ve burnt off the follicles with the Vapoh Roob.”

2)      Roasted Tomatoes—Apparently, the way to a person’s lungs is through their feet.  Several friends have had large slices of freshly roasted tomato placed on the soles of their bare feet.  The remedy is said to cure sore throats and respiratory illnesses. 

3)      Cow Manure—When she was a girl, a woman I know had her hair cut short by her mother, in an attempt to spite her father (who loved his daughter’s long hair) for some unknown (more…)

Just Breathe

16 Nov

Went to a lecture by Dr. Andrew Weil last night.  I didn’t know who the guy was before the lecture.  Turns out he’s a doctor who’s popular with those interested in wellness beyond just going to a doctor when they’re sick.  While the lecture was fine and his tips were of the “what’s found by the research” ilk (e.g., get more omega 3 fats in your body, get more vitamin D, and have some turmeric), people at the lecture were quite interested in his advice on breathing and how two sets of four of a yoga-inspired breathing exercise could reduce your stress, help your heart, and generally help enhance wellness.  I had a few thoughts while listening to him tell the audience how to inhale through the nose for four counts, hold the breath for seven counts, and then exhale through the nose for a count of seven.

1) “Why is it so quiet in here?”  Somehow, a room full of 2,000 adults felt that they had to hold their breaths and not make any noise while listening to him describe the technique.  Even the woman who’d been having uncontrollable vocal outbursts was quiet.  It was eerie (or I am a complete child who can’t sit still for four sets of four breathing exercises).

2) “He’s just breathing people.”  You all paid how much to come listen to a man talk about breathing! (I did too, but at least I had a star sighting–Lance Ito was in attendance.) (more…)

Pleasant Surprise

16 Nov

Yesterday, part of my work day consisted of visiting a power plant.  Thrilling as that was, I was lucky enough to have my trip followed by an even more pleasant surprise.

As my friend Mike and I drove away from the plant, we decided to stop and get lunch at In N Out.  Since it was one of the old style, drive thru and walk up only, In N Outs, we had nowhere to sit.  That was going to be bad . . . until, of course, I remembered we had our folding chairs from the tailgate in the back of the car.

There we were, folding chairs below us, double doubles in  hand, watching the other poor schlubs who had to eat standing.  The moment would only have been better if I’d remembered I also had a camera in my purse.  (more…)

When Harry Met Sally

15 Nov

“It’s amazing, you look like a normal person, but you are the angel of death.” 

Sally to Harry upon reacquainting themselves on a plane in “When Harry Met Sally” (one of my favorite movies ever).

Wildlife in the City

15 Nov

I live in the hills about 10 minutes northeast of L.A.  I love these hills because although L.A. is often seen as a concrete jungle, packed with nondescript apartment buildings and even blander looking houses, in my neighborhood the vast ecosystem that crisscrosses the city thrives and provides dramatic and unexpected moments.

A few nights ago, I was driving home when a giant bird dove past my front windshield and across the four lane road leading to my house.  The bird’s light underbelly caught my attention and I watched as it landed on the hillside, picked something up, and started to fly back in its original direction.  As if in slow motion, the bird turned and looked at me as it flew off.  In that moment, I recognized the round circles around its eyes as those of an owl.  

Almost every other night, seemingly suicidal rabbits dart across the streets in my neighborhood.  They sit in the middle of the street and, I swear, they wait for just the moment my car drives by to dart into my car’s path.  So far, I’ve managed to avoid all of the rabbits, but when the twentieth rabbit darts out in front of you, you’ve got to wonder whether they have a death wish. (more…)

The Felipaic Hand-Kissing Request

14 Nov

When I was a little girl, my mother used to force me to talk to my paternal grandmother–Felipa.  I didn’t know this particular grandmother, because my father didn’t live with my family, but my mother used to make me talk to her twice a year anyway. 

I always found the exchanges a little odd.  I would greet my grandmother, “Hola abuela” (a cardinal sin was to greet her “abuelita,” not sure why, but it became confusing as my maternal grandmother only wanted to be “abuelita”).  My Abuela Felipa would respond with “Besame la mano.”  At the time (and quite frankly now), I didn’t understand what exactly she meant for me to do when she made that request. 

Did she demand obeisance?  A kissing of the ring, perhaps?  (more…)

Brazilian Churrascurias

13 Nov

I’m a meat eater.  I forego anything if beef is an option.  I suppose it’s part of the reason why my favorite restaurants of late are churrascurias.  Where else do you get large slabs of skewered beef presented to you by smiling men for as long as you want?  While all of these places have all you can eat salad bars, like I said, I’m a meat eater, so I go straight to the beef.  My caveat is that I’ve not been to many churrascurias in L.A., but so far here is my ranking of the five I’ve seen: (more…)

What’s so funny?

12 Nov


What’s so funnyOriginally uploaded by lauragenao.
This weekend I tailgated at the UCLA-Oregon St. football game. I’m not a fan of any Division 1 team in particular (having gone to a college with no football tradition to speak of), and I’ve only ever attended one other tailgate.  With that history, I was surprised to find myself enjoying the hours of unplanned amusement that was provided by groups of people with nowhere to be, lots of food, an i pod, random footballs, and drinks. It didn’t hurt that UCLA won 25-7.

Can’t remember what we’re laughing at in the picture, but the moment seemed to capture the good time we had. (more…)

Spotted outside a men’s room

11 Nov

A sign stating, “Men Working.”  Made me laugh out loud.

Where not to put Women’s Rogaine

11 Nov

Alex Kuczynski, a NY Times Celebrity and Styles reporter, on her quest for beauty, “My eyebrows were never thick enough so I rubbed Women’s Rogaine onto the spot I wanted to grow hair.”  It didn’t work, “but I began to grow a moustache which I had to pay a dermatologist to laser off.”

Point taken. 

On how to throw a fundraising event (or how not to keep 600 Latinos from their food)

10 Nov

I went to a fundraising event last night and decided that I’ve now been to enough of these  to be able to give some pointers on a successful event (or at least one that keeps people from grumbling). 

1.  Feed people.  Don’t invite people to come out from work for a 6 p.m. event, advertise dinner at 7 p.m., and not start feeding them until 8:30 p.m.  By the time the padre blessed the food last night,  I realized that we were almost two hours into the program and only the “introductory” remarks and one award were done.  People started to get really annoyed by the lack of sustenance. 

While I know that Europeans commonly eat late, the folks at my table identified as Mexican and not European.  One guy at my table ate two salads and worked on a third.  Eight others, who looked like they were generally devotees of a low-carb diet, happily finished up two bowls of bread (cheese bread, wheat bread, white rolls, and those flat, triangular, cracky things and rods they always call bread).   I picked an inch of chocolate flakes off of my chocolate mousse dessert (which had thankfully already been at the table when I arrived) and that salad guy–he was audibly wondering which limb to start gnawing off.  Bottom line, don’t mess with people’s food, even if they did pay (or get guest tickets) that cost $300 a piece. 

2.  People come to talk to their friends.   Respect, acknowledge, and embrace that while people generally come to these events in support of an organization, friends supportive of that organization, or because their arm got twisted by someone receiving an award, l attendees really just want to have a good evening with their friends and maybe meet some interesting new people.    That means, make the event conducive to mingling.  (more…)

Here we go . . .

9 Nov

I have decided to really start writing.  While the goal is short essays about all of the wonderfully odd situations my family, friends, and I have found ourselves in, a lack of motivation has kept me from writing these stories. I’m hoping that this blog will help me start writing (anything), and that then the stories will come.

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