IMR: Entries: 2001: July: 09 — Monday, July 09, 2001

New Groove Day one of yet another new day-to-day arrangement closes, without incident.   The crowd at Aloha Tower was huge. They pull 'U.S.A.' from their bag of tricks. Katie sometimes found the show... surprising. The fireworks finale lights up the sky. The Friends of the Library Booksale. Katie, of course, found a book about airplanes. A spontaneous pau hana picnic at Magic Island. The guests of honor, Tony Fo and Jennifer Dubinsky. Young Braxton Lee sizes up a bemused Katie. "Amazing Mazes and Puzzling Puzzles" at Pearlridge. Katie gets around Pearlridge in style. A surprisingly tough maze, sponsored by the Star-Bulletin. "Final Fantasy" premiered, I had tickets, but I missed it. Katie breaks from a game of tag to get a tan. Katie's designated little classroom tub of fun. The end of my summer school classes (and classes in general), coupled with Katie's acceptance at a new preschool, allowed both Jen and I to — with some reluctance — return to full-time work schedules this week. Again, it would require some adjustment, but we've had our lives shuffled suddenly over the last couple of years so often that nothing phased us. Jen figured out how to drop Katie off and get to work via bus, and I made a couple of practice runs from downtown to the preschool to make sure I could do it at rushhour, and today we did it, without a hitch. Now all that remains is repeating the process a few hundred times more. I know I tend to make little things out to be bigger than they are — life's just not worth living without a good dose of melodrama — and I know that this daily routine is beyond mundane for most families. But I can't help but read some significance into it. Not only is Katie (back) in preschool, after all, but I'm finally done with school. That is to say, while Jen will also go back to college to finish her degree someday, for the immediate future, this is normal life. You get so used to enumerating your many challenges and responsibilities, I guess you have to feel a little sad when one's finally put to rest. I'm not a webmaster, husband, father and student anymore. I've taken another small step into the comfortable fold of the mainstream. With most of Katie's first three years spent at home with her mother, there's no question we have our concerns with putting her (back) in preschool. Hell, not only do we sometimes wish Jen could stay at home with Katie until she's ten, but we often fantasize about homeschooling her, into adulthood, in a sealed bubble, on the moon. The simple reality is, of course, that you can either have two incomes, or live in Hawai`i — not both. And for now, we really love raising a family here. But there's more to it than that. Conflicting studies and personal anecdotes can only bring a parent so far (much to my chagrin), and after that, it's instinct. And although it makes me a little nervous, I also feel — at this stage — that it's right. I knew it, anytime Katie bumped into other little people out in the real world — there was almost a tangible hunger in the way she was drawn to them. And I knew it when I arrived at the school this afternoon and saw her tearing around the schoolyard with a pack of other kids. Bless her heart, she's nothing like me — she thrives on company, the energy of groups, interaction with others. She's never shy around adults (a matter of concern, too), and she simply doesn't hesitate to play with kids even twice her age. She's a brilliant and playful and rambunctious girl at home, but she's simply something more when she's around other kids. There'll be plenty of time for antisocial fits and brooding adolescence, but now I really want her to develop... whatever it is that comes out when she's not being completely smothered by her parents' attention. Yes, other kids can be rotten. Katie could get teased or hit or taught bad habits. But I'll be honest. While on one hand I was a little disturbed to discover last week that Katie came home with an understanding of the word "fart," I was also humbled by how — after only a few days in preschool — she was speaking more articulately than she ever has. It was a world of difference, and assuaged the one insecurity I had about her otherwise incredible development. Besides... hard as it is to believe, in two years, it'll be time for "real" school. If, by then, we find other kids to be more hindrance than help, we can always look into homeschooling again. While family time will actually be rather scarce now, we had a glorious abundance of it in the last week. The bizarre Wednesday holiday allowed for a perfect break in an otherwise draining week at work. On the eve of Independence Day, we took advantage of my downtown parking access and braved the crowds at Aloha Tower Marketplace for the fireworks display. We made the mistake of bringing the stroller, and at one point I was convinced we'd gotten stuck in the heart of the masses fronting the harbor. But slowly we squeezed out, nabbed a spot against a wall, and watched the skies. We prepped Katie as best week could, trying to get her excited, but she was still scared at first, burying her head in Jen's shoulder and chanting, "Want to go home! Want to go home!" But unlike last year, as the show progressed, Katie's fear shrank and her curiosity grew. Even as she whimpered I caught her stealing glances at the oranges, whites, blues and reds overhead. Soon enough, she was smiling and pointing, naming colors and saying, "Wow!" It was a surprisingly long program, with a great mix of flash and dazzle, and a few neat tricks. The "U.S.A." was back, but instead of the smiley face, this year we got peace signs. We went home, sated, and the three of us stayed up too late just playing around in bed. For the holiday proper, we slept in and then headed out to Mililani. Movies were the order of the day. First I watched Katie (we watched airplanes at the airport) while Jen and mom caught the matineé showing of Memento at the Varsity. Then, Katie spent some quality time with her grandma while Jen and I caught an early evening showing of A.I. Jen liked Memento as much as I did, even though she had already read about the "ending" on the web. I don't think she shared my appreciation for A.I. though. (Which immediately debunks my coworker's assertion that women would "get it" more naturally than men.) I'll concede it is a bit too long — you can almost feel two endings before the real one comes some 15 minutes later — and it's is exactly as schitzophrenic as you'd think a Spielberg-Kubrick collaboration would be (crowdpleaser meets mindbender), it's refreshingly ambitious and hits most (if not all) of the right notes. I think the concept might not have been best served by the film following the child rather than the family, but, the child's angle was compelling. And Haley Joel Osment was incredible. As we drove home, Katie quickly passed out, my head filled with A.I., Jen's with Memento. We decided the latter will probably join our DVD collection first. It was back to work the next day, everyone prepping for a special meeting in L.A. and getting the boss ready for his extended West Coast trip (he left yesterday and won't be back until the 25th). It felt like Monday, though; and when things got back up to speed the next day, of course, we ran into the weekend. (Not that anyone complained.) Friday also brought a remarkable opportunity to reunite with some old coworkers. By absolute random chance, Tony was back in town, working the summer break from Harvard Law, and Jennifer Dubinsky, a.k.a. "Sunshine," was stopping through with her fianceé Oliver, en route from Australia to their long-awaited wedding in Nebraska. Lacene called up Baron, and I invited Steve (the only other old friend in town, Rikard, couldn't make it), and we all met up at Magic Island at sunset to catch up on everyone's many-splendored lives. Baron brought his wife Carmen and their 8-month-old son Braxton, and Jen and Katie were on hand too. Katie became immediately attached to Braxton, and went wherever he went (to Carmen's occasional bemusement). For everyone else the gossip ranged from the woes of wedding planning to the latest adventures within our office's global family. Between bites of Chinese chicken salad and gyoza, both Baron and Lacene thoughtfully updated me on employment opportunities at their respective offices — always recruiting for another veteran! Alas the sun went down and the breeze turned cold and we had to call it a day. I really loved seeing everyone, though... jokingly I noted, "It's always inspiring to spend time with survivors — life goes on, after all." (I wished at that moment that David was around to make a Vietnam War reference.) Saturday, Jen worked, so I did the laundry-at-mom's-via-the-airport thing. But Sunday, thanks to the official start of her full-time schedule, Jen was off, so we all had another glorious full day together. We skipped church, and treated ourselves to a rare breakfast out — albeit at Zippy's — where Katie gorged herself on syrup-soaked but otherwise awful pancakes. Then we hit the annual Friends of the Library used booksale at McKinley High School. Strangely enough, just last week I finished reading Primary Colors, the random book I picked up at the sale last year. So I didn't feel guilty shopping again. We spent an hour braving the heat, and this time we did leave with an armful of almost a dozen mostly hardcover books (total cost: $12.50). Jen got Take it Like a Man, the now out-of-print Boy George autobiography, I picked up some random fiction (Vox by Nicholson Baker and Rebecca Wells' Divine Secrets) as well as The Evolution of Useful Things (a study of the history of stuff like paperclips and forks), and some fun smut. Most of our take, though, was children's books for Katie, ranging from classics to the Muppet Babies. Then, acting on a tip Jen saw on the community calendar on PBS, we headed out to Pearlridge Shopping Center, which touted "Amazing Mazes and Puzzling Puzzles." Frankly, it wasn't anything to write home about. But what grown-ups see as just a bunch of slightly worn displays scattered in the empty corners of a mall is, to a kid, a grand adventure waiting to happen. Katie happily bounced from wall puzzle to tic-tac-toe board to magnetic brain teaser, all clustered near the escalators "Downtown." Then we really blew her mind by taking her on the monorail ("We're taking the train!") to "Uptown," the other phase of the mall, to play with the puzzles and mazes there. One of the toughest mazes was sponsored by the Honolulu Star-Bulletin — I'm sure there's some meaning to that. After Katie was played out, Jen and I did some shopping, picking up our first new set of plates and silverware (everything we've had before was inherited from my mom). The theme was green, of course. We came home, exhausted and loaded down with stuff. Jen cooked up a chicken pasta dish with which we inaugurated our new matching housewares. Then, again, we happily passed out in a heap together on the bed.

Comments I believe that this is the best entry yet written! (And bonus points to anyone who can name the movie my comment is paraphrasing.) —NemesisVex (July 10, 2001 6:15 PM) (Of course, that last comment only makes sense when this entry said, "This entry is still under construction." Pfah.) —NemesisVex (July 11, 2001 2:57 AM) You know, in the span of one entry, I feel like I know maybe a leetle bit too much about the Ozawa household. A thing for making strange faces, enjoying weird psychothriller movies, airports, the colour green, fun smut and nostalgic reunions. It's like info overload. Not to say I don't love it, of course. And Greg, you're a stinker. —Dreama (July 11, 2001 4:15 AM) Um... Wouldn't _Vox_ fall under the "fun smut" category by itself? —Kristina (July 17, 2001 6:41 AM) I'm interested in contacting Jennifer Dubinsky, mentioned in your entry. She may be the daughter of an old high-school friend of mine, Sarge Dubinsky. We haven't heard from Sarge and his wife Gayle in several years. We are wondering how all the family are doing. We note that there is a Gregg Dubinsky (possibly Jennifer's brother) who is a music historian professor at Yale. We would appreciate any contact if the above information applies. Thanks, Harold and Anne Haskins —Harold Haskins (November 19, 2004 8:37 PM) E kala mai! Comments have been disabled due to overwhelming abuse by spammers. Please click through to any of the video hosting services linked above to leave a public response, or feel free to send an e-mail. Mahalo! < July 02 · July · July 19 > © 1997-2008 Ryan Kawailani Ozawa · E-Mail: imr@lightfantastic.org · Created: 13 November 1997 · Last Modified: 14 January 2008