“I want you to get that crawling bug. It was crawling around like a loser!”
—The kid asks her mom to banish an insect from the house

We had Wubie for about a dozen years. In that time he became a fixture in our lives. I wanted to jot down a few memories before I forget ‘em, stuff that made our loud and proud friend so special to us.

Floom! (Don’t Mind if I Do)

Whether it be a chair, dinner plate, comfy spot on the bed, whatever—if you left it alone, Wubie saw it as fair game to claim as his own. We jokingly referred to this as “being floomed”:

Mike: “That cat stole my chair!”
Jill: “You’ve been floomed!’
Mike: “And now he’s helping himself to my cheerios!”
Jill (caring as always): “You’ve been floomed squared! Ha Ha!”

We also referred to it as Wubie’s “Don’t Mind if I Do” philosophy:

“You left your glass of milk all by its lonesome for just a sec? DON’T MIND IF I DO!” (LAP, LAP, SLURP!)

“You had to get up off the couch? That’s a mighty warm cushion you just left. DON’T MIND IF I DO!” (CAT BUTT PLANT!)

Cross-Pawed Critter

I never had a cat that crossed his front paws as much as Wubie. This was a very common, natural sitting position for him. When witnessing this I always thought of a spoiled little king. And I was right.

Recently Opened Can Detector

No matter how quiet you were, or how deeply ensconced in the deepest of slumbers Wubie was, if you made a grab for a can opener he’d be jogging down the hallway in an instant.

He’d waddle on up to you (whining all the way, of course) demanding a canned food update along with a sample taste. We called it the cat tax.

“Not Getting My Way” Ears

When Wubie wasn’t getting his way he’d express his dissatisfaction by turning his ears back (I called them his skateboard ramp ears) and emitting a low, guttural whine. Basically, he was trying to act tough.

Jill was pretty good at repeating the sound back to him, very much approximating his tone, timbre and demeanor. I’m unsure if he truly appreciated her talent.

Getting Diagonal

For a little guy he sure could take up space. When he was a youngin’ he loved to get in the center of the bed and “get diagonal” for his naps, pointing his front paws (sometimes called his ‘feeters’) to the top left corner of the bed and his rear paws to the lower right corner.

With this strategy he was able to take up as much space as possible. Interestingly enough, the older Wubie eschewed this approach and ultimately favored the lower left corner of the bed. During this latter phase, I thought of him as a little brown postage stamp on a letter sent to a dreamland for those with whiskers and tails.

As the years went on, whenever we discovered anyone stretched out somewhere we’d say they were “getting diagonal”.

Middle of the Action

This is one Wubie trait that caused the kid much aggravation—and Wubie knew it.

Wubie: “Hey kid, what’s that—you’re in the middle of a board game? (plops himself down on board) SO AM I—DON’T MIND IF I DO!”

Kid: “WAAAAAUUUGH!”

We’ve been to Filoli three times since it reopened in February. We went on Grandmommy’s birthday with the family, as has become our tradition.

Looking back through our photos I am reminded how happy Grandmommy was there, despite her illness. (The first photo below is Lucy now…the one next to it is Grandmommy in the same space 3 years ago. )

How peaceful and relaxing and ‘away from it all’ it is here.

“Wubie crushed my wand — no magic show for him!”
— Lucy’s response after she waved her ‘magic wand’ (stick with a ribbon) in front of Wubie one too many times (he destroyed it).

We went to the SJ Obon with friends recently and had loads of fun, especially Lucy…she got to dance in her first Bon Odori.

Lucy went to her first Obon fest way back in 2008, when she was still a baby. Grandmommy had suggested we go, she had cut out a clipping from the newspaper for us, and urged us to go that very day (it was a Sunday and we had been visiting her in the hospital). We went and had a lovely time. Shortly thereafter Grandmommy got out of the hospital, so we all went together to the Palo Alto Obon fest. That was about a month before she passed away in September, and it was our last big outing together.

The Obon festival is held to remember ancestors and loved ones who are gone…so it seems appropriate that we keep going in memory of Grandmommy. (Posts from last year’s visits here and here.) If she were still here, she would surely be dancing with us!

My Dad spent over twenty years in the military. During that time, my family did a lot of moving around and life was a series of military posts (Fort Sill, Fort Huachuca, Fort Ord, etc.). When dad was stationed overseas, mom had to take care of the six of us. I see old pictures from that time, celebrations of birthdays and holidays. Dad had to miss many of those special times, and it pained him considerably.

“Tell the kids to write me,” he’d tell my mom. My sister Cindy says he told her to write about everything that each person in the family was doing, because he wanted to feel like he was there.

She remembers dad sending us souvenirs from overseas, including a large spool of orange silk fabric that mom and all the girls made into matching dresses.

My family has lots of stories about that time. They’re full of love and perseverance. However, the best story was that my dad got to come home. Many families never got that happy ending. They got a visit from a stranger instead.

I can’t even contemplate how our lives would have changed had this happened to us. This is a day to give thanks to those who didn’t get to come home.

On Sunday we went to Japantown for lunch. Before settling on a restaurant, I gave the girls a quick walking tour and pointed out some places I remembered from my youth.

I dig this picture (left) that Jill took of the Filipino Community Center. It looks like a giant Pocky box is peering in, trying to gain entrance. Alas, in reality the scene wasn’t nearly so cool. Just a normal, non-giant Pocky box we had in the car being reflected in our car window.

I recall going to this center a few times a long time ago, when I was around ten, usually tagging along with my sisters. I’m fairly confident of the timeframe because I vividly remember hearing Paper Lace’s “The Night Chicago Died” on the car radio for the first time when leaving the center one day. The ten year old me loved that tune.

The building on the right, Okida Hall, is next door to a restaurant I worked at as a teenager. I remember the hall being used as a martial arts school back then. The front doors would be wide open during the day and I could see the students in their Gis practicing. The teenage me though it was very cool because it reminded him of the scene in Enter the Dragon where Bruce Lee first steps foot onto Mr. Han’s island.

This is the restaurant I worked at. A friend who waitressed there got me the job. A day after I started, the friend had some kind of falliing out with the place and quit. I worked there for a couple of years as a busboy/dishwasher/kitchen helper. I remember the family that ran the place as friendly and kind.

Jill took a picture of the alley next to the restaurant (right) after I pointed out the sewer drain and mentioned it as the place I’d dump my bucket of dirty water after mopping up the restaurant each night. The teenage me had awful looking hands during this time. I was always going back and forth between cleaning tables and doing dishes and would never spend the time to put on any kind of gloves while at the sink. It was too much of a hassle for a teenager, I guess. As a result, the skin on my hands was always peeling and falling off from doing dishes.

Here we are doing a little grocery shopping. This brought back memories of a few occasions when I had to grab cabbage or pick up fish for the restaurant. I’d be running through the streets, apron on, trying to get that big fish back to the restaurant. In these pics Lucy is absorbed in a box of “tiny special” dolls her mom picked up for her at Nikaku earlier in the day.

We ended up having lunch at a hawaiian place. Lucy was especially excited because she got to order french fries, a favorite she hadn’t had in a few months. Her parents split a plate of Kalua Cabbage and Pork. The middle-aged me thoroughly enjoyed his Sunday.

See more pics.

Photo Panning Test from Mike C on Vimeo.

My family posting miscellaneous memories (hopefully there will be more of these to come)…

From Mom (Gma Vita)
(after reading some letters from my dad when he was stationed overseas in the 1960s)

Still reading family letters, these are my own to your Dad….

June, 1967: Mike loves to go barefoot outdoors. He says, “I want to go with my toes…instead of barefoot.”

May, 1967: Trish (Patty) is starting to scratch us when mad. Poor Mike gets it most. One day he had his shirt off and she really let him have it. He cried but was so mad that he started kicking and shaking her up. Cindy and I had to pull them apart. And that’s not the first time either.

One night there was a tornado warning. We all went to the basement. We brought blankets and paper and pens to write Dad. Sam brought water (he thinks just like your Dad.)

Sam was also in in charge of the film projector. Pat just loves to see herself!

Sam, do you remember getting a check from your paper route in Ft. Huachuka? You couldn’t wait to cash it so you could buy records and paperbacks. I’m glad you all love to read.

Last thing, I remember the TV was going bad—only 1 channel and even that wasn’t clear. Especially when it got “hot”. We’d have to turn it on and off to get that one channel to work.

From Cindy:
Hi Mom and all, I am looking forward to new chapters of the letters between us and Dad. What a great journal you have Mom, your email brought back many memories…

I remember the scaaaary tornadoes, it was just like in the Wizard of Oz, we could hear it outside. I remember the basement, it was damp and scary if one had to go down there alone, but our laundry was down there.

As for the letters; Dad always told me that I had to write him about everything thing that each person in our family was doing, because he wanted to feel like he was there.

Of course I always added my 2 cents, like how I felt about what they were doing. I remember when Dad came home on leave for one month, in the middle of his year away. Mike was a little older and remembered Dad more than Patty, she was so scared of this “stranger” who wanted to hold her.

She just cried and cried every time he picked her up. I also remember when dad sent home yards and yards of Orange silk fabric and you made us all matching dresses, we have pictures of it. Mike and Sam missed out on this event of course. Nina and Debbie had dresses too… I’m pretty sure. By the way, Nina visited us while we were in Kansas, remember mom?

From Mike:

Thanks for the info, Cindy. It’s great getting a better glimpse of how things were back then. I have vague memories about basements, tornado warnings, fireflies, tortoises on the street, horned toads, etc., but they’re more like quick, scattered snapshots of the different areas/states we lived in during the 60′s. The recollections that you, Mom, and everyone else provide really help me get a better sense of that time.

From Sam:

I always laugh about the places we traveled to. The Army seemed to enjoy sending us off to assignments with extreme contrasts in climate. For example, we moved from…

Panama (on the equator and sea level) to Arizona (Mountains and high desert, about 5,000 feet above sea level). We went to the beaches almost every day. Dad had access to private military beaches outside of Panama City. We could catch lots of red snappers (fish), see huge turtles, blow-up fish (a fish that puffed up after being caught) and sting rays. Also, once in a while the sea would experience a red algae bloom, turn bright red and kill all the fish in the area. the fish would wash up on the beach, and Mom and Dad wouldn’t let us touch them.

Arizona to Kansas (high mountains to the Plains States) Arizona was hot and dry. It had beautiful scenery. We used to call one section of the mountains the Kennedy mountain. If you looked at it, from the south, it had JFK’s profile. Today, that area is named JFK for that same likeness. Funny how we noticed it, years before others. We also went to Nogales Mexico, while living here. I will never forget the poverty of Nogales, although young, I still remember the look of starvation on the people.

Kansas to Texas (not too much of a change) Kansas was the home of military wives during the war. Mom really kept the family together. She made us do things together, so we wouldn’t mope around with Dad being gone. Our family did well, we stuck together and Mom kept us on the right track.

Texas to Berkeley (major change here, Berkeley in the 60′s was a crazy place. so much different than Texas)

I also remember, working with Dad, while I was still in high school at his second job. Mom would always have supper ready so we could rush off to Capitol TV and Appliance. Dad was by far the best repairman at the store. He used the opportunities of the broken televisions, to teach me about electronics. I remember, when one of the other techs went on vacation, they brought all of his work over to us to repair. Dad, told them to take a look at the TVs first. I fixed about half of the sets my self. I left the tough ones for Dad. The whole shop was surprised that I was already doing the work of seasoned technicians. I have very fond memories of working with Dad in that dusty old shop, although the place didn’t even have a bathroom or water fountain and was run down, Dad and I made the best of it. Dad never complained, although now I realize Dad was probably working 65-70 hours a week to make ends meet.

In recap, I remember, how we all would work together to figure things out in the new area. We would share things we learned, so we could quickly blend in to the new culture. I still use those skills today. I quickly note different things, perspectives and ideas.

Music used:

• Music: “Mr. Blue Sky” from the Amelie Soundtrack by Yann Tiersen