October 28, 2005

Traditional wisdom proclaims “home is where the heart is.” I’ve been examining that concept this week. I’m now sitting in the United Red Carpet lounge at San Francisco Airport. I find myself simultaneously leaving home and going home. I’m returning to Japan where I sleep on a bed loaned to me by the Air Force but I truly feel it is home. My cats are there, along with my new stuff and my new friends. My old friends are in California or at least most of them. MY old stuff is there too, in storage. My home is also there. It’s between renters so I can get in and poke around. It looks strange and a little bit unfamiliar. I’ve done some work to it that I’d wanted to do for a long time. Some of that work was easier to do with all the furniture out. It makes the house more attractive as a rental but it has the effect of making it look less familiar. There is something to the echo of a house without furniture that cold and eerie.

There is still more work planned and I let JW know what we can do until it rents and what I want to do before I move back. I projected more improvements to be made when I’ve resettled. As this all goes through my mind I’m again struck by the strangeness of the place. When I left it was a certainty that I would return to the house that was my home for 27 years. Three years later the odds still favor my return but there is less certainty. I’ve learned that the concept of home is less attached to a structure than it is to a feeling of comfort in a place. I may wander some more before I come back and if my wanderings uncover comfort elsewhere I’m more open to change than before I left.

A discussion about home is a novel way to introduce you to my latest travelogue. But this is no ordinary destination in fact, it is home. I’ve been away long enough that my eyes are opened to the beauty and grandeur that are California and Arizona.

The government lets me break up my long, long flight with a stopover ant my port of entry. I was on my way to attend a dental implant meeting in Scottsdale and flew through San Francisco. I stayed at the Embassy Suites in Burlingame right on the bay. I took a nostalgic walk on the bay and had lunch at Max’s Opera Café. My mother and I often took that same walk and watched the airplanes arrive and depart.

I had been watching the Phoenix weather before I left and was braced for a week of 103 degrees. In reality they had their first rain in many months and ideal walking weather.

There is simplicity to the desert landscape that coincides with the sparse esthetic of Japanese art. Everything seems to be harmonious.

Halloween decorations marked my arrival in Fairfield

This is Satuii Winery Don’t be fooled by the Italian flag.

I traveled up the whole length of Napa Valley. It’s about 30 miles long with a slight uphill grade. What makes the valley so unique is the multitude of microclimates. I was able to experience late summer and most of the fall variations in that short stretch. Autumn in California is truly fall. The leaves turn color and fall off the trees over the course of a week. I’ve seen the foliage abandon a tree fully in two days.

I was blessed to see the fall colors and many friends. My brief stay of two and a half days wasn’t adequate to see everyone. Please understand if I missed you. I spent a full day on property management and banking business. My trip to the Napa Valley only consumed a half an afternoon and was my only recreation.

My time in Okinawa is close to being over. I leave in January 2007. With 60 days of leave and perhaps another 32 days of permissive “house hunting” I have only 11 months of actual “work” left in my Air Force career. There are a lot of variables as to where I’ll go from Okinawa. I’d like to spend some time in Europe. There is a chance of a job there but I can’t apply until I am within 120 days of separating from the Air Force. So, like most things in life I’ll have to sit still and see what cards are dealt.

December 24, 2005

A whirlwind/typhoon of activity interfered with my sending the preceding in a timely manner. Thanksgiving and a mini-snorkeling trip to an adjacent island got in the way.

Then I found myself going to New York for Christmas. My dental assistant in Okinawa finished her commitment to the Air Force and moved to Westchester. We had gone through a lot together in the 2 ½ years she worked for me and bonded. Somewhere along the way she started to call me Dad and at this point she is my de facto daughter. No, it’s not as my cousin in Germany asked a “Woody Allen” thing! It’s a father and daughter relationship.

I managed to snag an airfare of less than $800, in part due the most favorable yen rate in three years. So I’m now visiting her in New York. We went into the city yesterday. Being born in New York and not having visited much since the ‘80’s, it was a homecoming of sorts. It was a reexamination of my roots. The adage you can take the boy out of New York but you can’t take the New York out of the boy rang true.

Everything is different and everything is the same. Gone is the 15 cent subway ride replaced by the $7.00 MetroPass. Some things have moved: FAO Schwartz is now on 59^th Street; but inside, it’s the same atmosphere with different toys. Jessica is a rare visitor to the Apple and I set out to show her all the places my parents took me for the Holidays when I was growing up. The tree at Rockefeller Center hadn’t diminished with time. TCKTS-TCKTS still had great deals on Broadway Shows and we went to see Rent. The theater hasn’t lost any of its magic. It was Jessica’s first Broadway play and I know now how my parents felt when they introduced me to that magical world.

The pastrami was exactly how I remembered it. I still need to get a New York Pizza Moment to be satisfied. Shrimp and Wasabi Pizza is a delight but it doesn’t satisfy the craving I have when I want real pizza. If you think pizza changes when you leave New York try Asia.

Jessica broke her back just before separating from the Air Force. She gets care at the VA Hospital that I used to be able to see across the river from my home. The New York transit Strike interfered with a visit to the neighborhood but I got to see it and my High School from across the river. At that level of magnification everything was recognizable albeit there were some new large buildings rising like a tree growing from the forest floor.

Little Italy, Chinatown, the East Village, Grand Central, Times Square all had the same flavor and appearance. The office building on 5^th Avenue where my farther worked for 27 years was still there; his company long gone bought out by American Express. And then there was the World Trade Center, replaced by the abomination that we now call Ground Zero. We arrived at twilight and noticed how the empty space between the skyscrapers caused the wind to pause and become still and how the bustle of New York was muted in somber tribute. No one seemed to walk fast there, everyone pausing to reflect.

I left New York, except for visits, in 1968. The World Trade Center wasn’t built until ??? I had been there often when my trips to NY were more frequent because my parents still lived there. It was a New York icon to me and it was agonizing to see the scar in the ground.

As the emotions rose I wondered why it felt as if I had come home after 37 years. What are the bonds that tie you to a place? How do they persist through so many years? Can we ever truly go home?

Since I reentered the Air Force, it has always been a given that I’d return to California and my home of 27 years. Now that I’ve been away I see that it’s not necessarily what I’ll do. I might take some time and live in Europe to contrast it with Asia. Of course, I’ll eventually come back to the States but I don’t know if it will be Fairfield. I’ve lived in big cities and I’ve tried a small town that grew and I guess it’s time to pick what I like best, a daunting task.

This has been my first leave in my three years that I’ve devoted to relaxation. The few days I’ve taken in concert with Air Force trips to visit home have been laden with business responsibilities and all my trips to explore Asia have been strenuous “get out and see stuff” expeditions. It’s been great to sleep in and savor my morning coffee.

December 28/29, 2005

I’m somewhere over the ocean between homes and dates over the international dateline. I had my New York pizza moment or moments. It was good but not precisely what I remembered. Pizza is a living organism and it has evolved. The flavors of New York are influenced by whatever wave of immigrants is crashing on its shores. It has evolved from what I remembered to a complex fusion of Caribbean and South American leitmotifs on a symphonic base of Italian Mediterranean cuisine. New York never sits still and remembrances of the past are fuzzy anyway.

I had dinner with friends of 40 years and checked in with some relatives but I found my self back at the airport all too soon. Both friends and relatives noted that I’ve made good use of my time in Asia. My new passport is almost already full of stamps and I have close to half a million frequent flyer miles. I often think of how the apple didn’t fall too far from the tree. My travel agent father now gone for almost 20 years would take comfort and pride in my travels. He’d get pleasure from my enjoyment.

I usually chip in frequent flyer miles to upgrade my ticket to business class but United explained that the cheap, cheap fare I purchased didn’t permit that. I tried three times but was politely refused. By the time I hit Chicago I stopped asking. Then my name was paged. Thoughts of being bumped entered my head but they had selected me for a complimentary upgrade. The extra legroom and plusher seating make a big difference on a 13 hour flight.

I rode upstairs on a 747. In our configuration there were 26 seats with only 18 passengers and two cabin attendants. The small space was suggestive of a luxury private jet. I managed to snag enough sleep to combat an exhausting arrival

This letter has morphed into my Year-end missive. I haven’t sent out much in the way of cards since I moved to Japan. Mail takes so long from the APO system that the holiday mailing deadline hits me and passes before I realize it. This year my trips to the States cut out a huge chunk of time too.

I hope my letter finds you well and happy. Please know that you are in my thoughts and accept my sincere wished for a Health and Prosperous New Year.

May your reality exceed your dreams.

Love,

Ray