Allow me to tell you something very scary that happened in the middle of the night at 3 a.m. It began when — in bed fast asleep — I heard the familiar musical jingle signaling the turning on of my DELL laptop. I had turned it off for the night, so anyone who’s read too many murder mysteries can well imagine the stark horror I experienced hearing the Windows Love Theme!!!! I about died! Well, not really — my bed was too wet for that. Well, not really…I just felt super scared, and tried to think what was going on (being aroused or at least awakened so unexpectedly and in such a frightening, mind-numbing manner). I knew I’d left the laptop open, but it was shut down and would require the pressure of a finger on its TURN ON button to turn it on. I knew I’d locked the door. It never even dawned on me that anyone could get in through the balcony window. It was really rather scary. I don’t have a gun or a baseball bat. I don’t keep a kitchen knife by my bed. All I had to defend myself was the Roomba robot, now that it’s temporarily in my room. What could I do…vacuum the intruder to death??? I managed to relax somehow, but I was still all shook up as I got up to check things out. Unarmed, I crept gingerly and rather bravelyout of my room, under cover of that present darkness, thinking if there were a serial killer checking his email in my office that I might scare the hell out of him/her by screaming like a girl as I raced out the front door, stark naked. That would stun him/her long enough for me to escape, kinda like Doris Day in “Midnight Lace”, only without the wardrobe by Irene. So that was my plan, even as I could see the soft glow of my DELL screen in the dead of night. Not a sound. No one awaited me in the corners of the dark living room. I approached the office area with courageous stealth. Nothing. I switched on the lights, thinking I’d momentarily blind my invader(s). Nobody. Unless he/she/theylurked in the front closet, I was safe. A quick check of the closet. Safe. I was still kinda shaky as I went out on the balcony, but was revived with a deep breath of cool ocean air. Unless my criminal was hiding in the den, I would live to see another day. No one was in the den, but anyone could’ve hidden behind any number of stacks and junk in that room. I left the computer on, wondering how it turned itself on. I went back to bed and instantly dreamt that I caught Val (the Polish guy who was in charge of repairing my place) breaking and entering, and solved the mystery. This computer is really getting on my nerves, but there’s nothing like a good scare to get one’s heart rate going, I suppose. Have you had any similar experience with your computers??? This is a genuine dilemma - I think I have a Dellemon. 

Re Jack’s comments on THE SOLOIST: “We need to keep harping on the bad habit of Hollywood using white actors for what are clearly minority roles.  Not that we have a claim to those roles, but if we are constantly ignored, we’ll never make progress.  Most people don’t even consider it’s in bad taste to cast a Robert Downey Jr.  in the Spanish-American role, or Jennifer Connelly in A Brilliant Mind (her true-life character was also Hispanic).  I, of all people, encourage the casting of the best actor in any role, but, as we’ve found out, Hollywood still thinks the best actor is the white actor.  When the time comes that an Asian (Latino, Middle-eastern, black) gets to play Moses or Cleopatra, then, I rest my case.  But, good point, Jack. ”

     Henry Ong (no relation to blogger) is an award-winning playwright whose plays include MADAME MAO’S MEMORIES, FABRIC, VOICES OF HIROSHIMA, SWEET KARMA and many more.

Just saw THE SOLOIST. I was particularly eager to see it, because I admire Steve Lopez’ column and his writing. My first hint shoulda been realizing that Robert Downey Jr. was portraying the popular, award-winning Spanish-American newspaper columnist!!! I just couldn’t get past that. (In real life, the columnist spotted and befriended Nathaniel Ayers, a talented, homeless musician who turned out to be paranoid schizophrenic.) Downey phoned in his performance, which is filled with more affectations/mannerisms than even Kevin Spacey utilizes! Jamie Foxx was better as Nathaniel Ayers. The cliche-ridden screenplay was a huge problem — a condescending insult to the homeless situation in LA, to the homeless in general, and to the mentally ill. Also, of course, an insult to the fine bank of Latino-American actors available!!! A big disappointment. I can only imagine how Steve Lopez feels, but he must’ve known to “give up” any say when he sold the movie rights to Hollywood! Oy vey!

     I’ve never recommended a massage therapist, but Massage by Jim has proven to be exceedingly therapeutic, with long-lasting results (including renewed energy and freedom from tendonitis pain) many days after Jim’s massage! What’s not to recommend?! In fact, when I told Jim that I wanted to write a recommendation, he calmly suggested that I wait a day or two to see if his massage on my exhausted ole body had lasting results; it’s been several days at this writing.

            With many years of training and (please excuse me here) hands-on experience throughout L.A., America and, indeed, around the world, Jim offers a massage that is so much more than what I’ve ever gotten at expensive spas, and I’m not kidding. Let me count a few of the ways: 1. Jim comes to you and your family with a comfortable, heated massage table, quality oils and lotions, aromas and relaxing music, all quickly set up. 2. He offers a 2-hour massage – Swedish, deep tissue, reflexology and more – at a price which upscale spas charge for half the treatment and a fraction of the personality. 3. Jim really knows and diligently practices the fine art of massage, and his is a 2-hour session that will leave you relaxed yet re-energized, ready to make your next appointment…all in the comfort of your home! No more getting a massage, then having to get back in your car right away. And wait until the day after…when you realize the absence of previous soreness and whatever else ailed your weary bones!

            Enough said. Need to be kneaded? Go to www.MassageByJim.net or call Jim at 562-889-8893. Please give him my thanks and best regards!

This update from the Norbonne High Speech & Debate Team, via coach Sharon James:

Our team took 1st place in Interpretive Sweepstakes in the WBFL Open Individual Events Tournament held on Feb. 28. We had one team take 1st place for Duo Interp, Rina Cortez took 3rd place for Humorous Interp, Omar Miranda took 1st for Dramatic Interp and Maria Quiroz took 3rd for Dramatic Interp, and Nelly Altamirano took 2nd in Impromptu. We also had 11 Certificates of Superiority and 15 Certificates of Excellence (the many certificates are what helped us take the Sweepstakes win).

Then on March 7, we attended the State Qualifier Tournament. Benjamin Porter took first place in Oratorical Interp, Rina Cortez took 2nd in Humorous Interp, and Michael Meeks and Alyssa Munson took 3rd place in Duo Interp. These three teams will represent us at the State Tournament in April.

News Flash from Narbonne High!

(Folo-Up to 1-07-09 Blog)

   THIS EXCITING NEWS JUST IN from Sharon James, coach of the Narbonne High Speech & Debate Team: “Jack — I wanted to share good news with you. Ben (‘Ronald Reagan’) took first place in Oratorical Interpretation! Stacy and Alden (‘Hypneurosis’) took first place in Duo. Julie and Su Ji (‘Big House’) took second place in Duo. Also, we took first place in Sweepstakes for Interpretive Events among all the teams competing. Thank you so much for doing that one day workshop…as you can see, it really paid off with huge dividends!”

   Well, congratulations to the winners and ALL their fellow competitors who participated yesterday in the Western Bay Forensics League Winter Novice Individual Events Tournament at South Gate High.

   You and “Coach James” have every reason to be proud. Good luck on your next competition!

          Along with so many millions around the globe this morning, I watched the inauguration of Barack Obama on TV.

          Like so many other Americans – particularly people of color –  this historic event resonated in a singularly amazing way, inspiring a new optimism with its glorious burst of hope.

          In a way, dramatic as it may seem, my life passed before me as I watched the inauguration pageantry unfold on CNN…

          I remembered that the Chinese Exclusion Act was still in effect when I was growing up in Mesa, AZ, a time when Chinese Americans were not allowed to marry Caucasians.

          I recalled being surrounded by schoolmates as they taunted me with that still-vivid little ditty which infuriates me to my core: “Ching-chong chinaman sitting on a fence, trying to make a dollar out of 15 cents!” Even though I was always proud to be American, that made me feel like a second class citizen because I was Chinese.

          I recalled the teachers and friends who encouraged me to rise above, and the neighbor who invited me to church, the newspaper editor who offered me a job after high school, the professors, drama coach and mentors at ASU who directed me toward the world outside.

          I recalled the pride I felt when I saw Nancy Kwan on the big movie screen in Phoenix in “The World of Suzie Wong,” and the possibility that – at long last – Asians would be portrayed in movies by our own actors and not by Caucasian actors with their eyes taped back.

          A burst of hope!

          I thought about the daughter of friends in Colorado who was marching in DC this morning with her high school band in the inaugural parade, and the elation she must feel. It gave me such a lift knowing that Lauren and her generation are growing up not necessarily in easier times – not at all! – but in a time of huge potential in this great nation of ours…a virtual springtime when new life, brighter tomorrows and a renewed spirit of compassion and tolerance blossom in a fresh burst of hope!

          God bless President Obama and his team of leaders! God bless America!

Narbonne High Speech & Debate Team

Christens 2009 for Me…and How!

            One thing I always anticipate doing to celebrate a new year is something fresh, inspirational and life-affirming, hopefully even enlightening. It needn’t be something I’ve never done before – not that kind of fresh; I just want to do something that’s…well, rather positive to kick off every new year.

            That certainly happened on January 5, the first Monday of 2009, when I was privileged to observe a group of genuinely refreshing and inspiring Narbonne High School students in Harbor City, members of the Speech & Debate Team coached by a friend of mine from church, Sharon James.

            Sharon had arranged for the young men and women to gather for a few hours (school wasn’t even back in session yet) so that I might observe the presentations they’re prepping for competition in the Western Bay Forensics League Winter Novice Individual Events Tournament on Saturday, January 24. Sharon, a polished and enthusiastic English Language and Composition instructor, is also the coach/adviser to this Speech & Debate Team, and the students seem to know how blessed they are to have this dynamic teacher to encourage and mentor them! I was enlisted by “Mrs. James” to watch her charges’ spoken pieces with an eye on their dramatic interpretations and overall performances. She felt my background as a “veteran actor” would be helpful.

            The pleasure, I can exclaim, was all mine! The Narbonne competitors – so eager, so determined, so willing to receive constructive criticism and feedback as Sharon and I gave them notes  – absolutely christened the new year for me in style, and I’m now looking forward to cheering them on at the competition at South Gate High! Some will compete solo, others in pairs. The youngsters’ choices of material include politics, women’s rights, dysfunctional relationships, personal angst; some are serious, some humorous, all very compelling.

            With high schoolers like these, our country – I assure you – has a bright, positive future!

            As for Sharon James — their resourceful, enthusiastic teacher who has been faithfully administering her gifts and skills for 22 years both in L.A. and Japan – heroes like this in America’s schools should be compensated with salaries more like those paid to professional athletes and movie stars! Besides her regular classes and such extracurricular responsibilities as the Narbonne High Speech & Debate Team, Sharon also instructs an AVID elective class (Advancement Via Individual Determination): a nationwide program for middle-achieving kids, primarily those who are the first generation in their families to go to college. AVID teachers like Sharon are challenged to equip their students with the skills and support required for higher education.

            After just four creativity-charged hours in the presence of Sharon and the 21 students on January 5, this new year experience was so enlightening that it left me feeling joyous and…well, a bit speechless!

At Thanksgiving dinner, after our marathon feast and enough chitchat had rendered the lot of us into a sort of stoned stupor, the topic turned to one of my favorite things: dreams. This often happens with my family. One of the kids will mention a dream and away we go! As usual, a few say they can’t remember their dreams, some say they never dream, etc. – the usual family-as-microcosm-of-society thing.

            It’s 2 am right now, and I just awoke from another fine dream, which reminded me about Thanksgiving. I find dreams are good for reminding us, for inspiring us, for simply getting away.

            I loved dreams the moment my brother John woke me up from the first one I can remember, shaking me out of a wonderful nightmare in which Frankenstein was chasing me. Man, was that real!!! The peculiar thing is — I was standing up, and when I awoke, being shaken by the shoulders, I felt disoriented, which added to the joy of dreaming.

            “Jacky, wake up!” my big brother was whispering. When I came to, everything was very dark, like it was night, which it was. I asked what was up. “You’re dreaming,” he said, “and you’re waking everyone up.” “Whaddaya mean?” I  asked. He said, “Look, your arms are outstretched and you’re walking around bumping into beds! You do this all the time, so stop it.”

            Amazing…my first genuine age of discovery! In my dream, I was being pursued by Boris Karloff as The Monster, but in the dark of reality, I apparently was taking on dear Boris’ role. Members of my nuclear family (we all slept in the same house back in the old days) were my audience, but they all tried to ignore my performance except for John, who was frankly just interested in getting back to bed. I was thrilled to learn about the art of dreaming, and from that night on, I loved them. Plus, I came to appreciate the power of cinema more than ever! It was “Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein” which had inspired my splendid nocturnal adventure!

            Soon I began to will myself to dream specific scenarios when I climbed into bed, possibly my first attempts at writing-producing-directing. On one particularly long hot summer night, for ex, I willed myself to do like Tom & Jerry and swim with Esther Williams in “Dangerous When Wet”. When I fell asleep (with mother fanning me yet) and actually felt the delicious coolness of the deep end of a swimming pool, following an ever-smiling Esther underwater, I wanted to sleep and dream on forever!

            Whatever the dream – scary, hilarious, airborne, exhausting, sad, whatever – I never tire of the thrill and fancifulness of my dreams. When I mentioned some of my family’s Thanksgiving Dreams to a friend, he asked if I’d ever heard of the phenomenon called Lucid Dreaming…“when you are able to awake within a dream, realize you are dreaming, and then do anything you wish because you know it is a dream.” Get outta here, Robert! Another excellent pursuit!

            Okay, I’m getting sleepy again, which reminds me of the dream I just had before getting out of bed to blog. In this fabulous dream, I was back in an apartment where I used to live, entertaining a group of total strangers. Out of the blue, one lady asked if anyone knew about the Filipino folk dance using bamboo rods. Well, heck, this was my dream, dammit, thus I knew immediately, of course, having lived in the Philippines — no choice of mine, since I was assigned there by the Navy, but I loved the country AND learned the Tinikling to boot! At the risk of being overly lucid here, may I just say that I actually brought home two very heavy and perfect bamboo poles when I was discharged, with every intention of teaching my family and all our neighbors how to dance the delightful Tinikling. But time marched on, my folk dancing years with it, and that goal from Southeast Asia never happened until just half an hour ago…when suddenly, just like that, those total strangers and I were enjoying an instant Filipino barrio fiesta right there in my old living room in Hawthorne…in my dreams! Is that awesome or what?!

BlogOng 7-23-08

Jack: Did the apt renovation kill you? Not a word since your original whining weeks ago.

–anon in Delaware

            Dear anon: What can I say? You’re born into this world, and then you suffer. I know I should be elated, of course, now that my home is 1 million % improved after a decade of existing in rain-damaged, dusty squalor, surrounded by exposed dry wall and stacks of boxes jammed with worldly goods. Amazing how quickly we homo sapiens can adjust to and even accept the worst of conditions (consider the cave man and citizens of certain American cities). But now, everything about my apartment looks fresh and clean again, from ceiling to newly carpeted floors, and – with the help of friends who are supremely more capable of arranging, decorating and organizing a home than I could ever hope to be – I am really very happy to be living where I do. Also that I have such cool pals who will come over and work and not even expect a meal or a tip.

            Still…suffering can send you skittering when you least expect to get depressed.

            By way of filling in the gap between blogs, my time served in HIH (Home Improvement Hell) was about three weeks, starting June 23. Those were days of waking up to the smell of fresh paint in the morning, even reduced to camping out on the living room sofa one evening. All of which I endured stoically, very Chinese-y, keeping my eyes on the prize. On the Fourth of July, I watched Wimbledon in the center of chaos – like a tornado had torn through the place, leaving bookcases on the couch, possessions helter-skelter, a genuine mess. And that was just the living room! Still I marched on, ever hopeful in the haze and maze, skirting things that stubbed my toes, scoffing at dirty tarps, paint brushes and the sort. Only comfort food brought me any real comfort – that and the occasional audition – and somehow, through the agony of my ordeal and a lot of junk consumption, I even managed to lose a few pounds. Val, Mike and Lizanne did marvelous work, I was delighted to see an advanced screening of “Mamma Mia!,” and then, after those three mind-numbing weeks, came Oscar – not the award, but a fun Cuban carpetmaster with two short but exceedingly strong male employees who told me not to lift a finger, instantly proceeding to pull, haul, move and shove everything in sight within an inch of its life and — after installing my carpet — back again! Dude, they worked as though time was indeed money. So I just sat downstairs in the shade, not lifting a finger, listening to amazing stories spun by Oscar as we watched his dynamic duo dump mounds of old carpet and padding from my balcony, down three stories onto the pavement, raising billows of 30-yr-old dirt and dust! That was visually stunning, and I thoroughly enjoyed the show.

            In a matter of hours that wonderful Monday, July 14 (three weeks to the day after I plummeted into HIH), I saw what a difference new carpeting makes, especially when your whole abode looks brand spanking new, and I immediately realized that I needed help. Desperately. No way could I even begin to unpack and actually re-occupy my new digs without extreme change. I would just probably return to my former way of living. That just wouldn’t be right, and I was painfully aware that only professional, hands-on assistance would help me learn how NOT to live like a slob!

            Enter friends/angels I probably don’t deserve. They came, they saw, they went to work without a whimper – pulling, hauling, lifting, shoving…using tools, even…and after a day here, an evening there, my rooms were transformed so neatly and tastefully that I don’t want to  bring back half the junk I own. I am a new man!

            Then yesterday, while I was still that new man, I brought home cleaning supplies (gasp!) for Lizanne, who has proven to me more than once already that my place will probably go begging again quickly in the Clean & Orderly Dept. without her. Among my purchases: two big spray containers of really heavy-duty liquid. They were sacked poorly, and by the time I smelled the leaking X-14 in the living room, it had bleached gargantuan sections of the fabric on my couch cushion, and when I rushed the dripping bag to the kitchen sink, drops of the evil-but-effective, industrial strength “remover” promptly and irreversibly removed spots of color from my brand new carpet as well.

            Oh, the suffering!!

            At times like that, dearest anon, I force myself to recall the sage words of an American lady I met fleetingly on a busy sidewalk in Taipei many years ago. What’s-her-name could tell I was suffering by the countenance on my face, and told me: “Son, a death in the family is a catastrophe; everything else is just a nuisance.”