The Budget of Paradox

Sophia,
Back in April, I wrote this page about summer camp. Yeah, I know, it was already pretty late in the season at that point. Even if you wanted to go to Green Cove, it might have been too late.

Next summer, you’ll be 15 and maybe you won’t care about summer camps anymore. But, I just looked: Green Cove has programs for girls up to age 17. The summer of 2024 probably seems like a million miles away. But it’s never too early to plan something big.

Anyway, give it some thought. Please go re-read the page I made in April.

I’m trying to do what I can to contribute to your success. I wish I could do so much more. When your mother and I first started our family, I envisioned that my kids would speak at least one language other than English. I don’t mean 45-minute classes in school. I mean, REALLY speak it, fluently. I envisioned that my kids would be able to skip at least one grade in math. When I had to leave for Iraq, I was already in the process of getting Morey’s Second Grade math book from her future teachers. I was going teach her Second Grade math while she was still in First Grade, and try to eventually get her to skip a grade, at least in math.

That was the plan, anyway. I enjoy tutoring math. Anyway, sorry, I’m getting off-track. I’m just thinking about all the dreams I had once, now abandoned. I wanted very badly to have a positive influence on your life. I still want it. But there’s very little I can do from here.

Next summer, if you can’t get a passport to visit me, you might as well do something extraordinary. I have some faith that Green Cove is a great camp if you want to try it. You need to learn to be on your own. Your mother wants you to be safe. I want you to be strong. Anyone can be safe if they never leave home and never get out of bed. I want you to contend with the world and learn how to handle it.

Talk to me, Goose.

Dad

My dear Sophia,
One thing I miss about the USA is the long drives in the desert. Sure, there are long highways in the deserts of the UAE. But it’s not the same. Plus, there are so many places I wish I could show you: places I discovered when I was young man.

Interstate 10: the Christopher Columbus Transcontinental Highway

Of all the freeways in the American interstate highway system, Interstate 10 holds a special place in my heart. It crosses the USA, from the Atlantic Ocean in Florida to the Pacific Ocean in California. There’s something symbolic about those terminals. Few other highways can make that claim. I drove it completely a few times when I was young. It’s a long, tough road. Interstate 10 was always exciting; it always meant “going somewhere”. For example, when I was in college in Arizona, I took Interstate 10 to get to Santa Barbara, California when I was dating my first wife. The city of Blythe is on Interstate 10; it’s where we found Blythe the Dog. She died before you were born, but Morey remembers her. She was a stray at a gas station in Blythe.

Here’s some trivia that most people in the east don’t know: Interstate 10 is also known as the Christopher Columbus Transcontinental Highway. But the only signs you’ll ever see with that name are in California. I always liked that name.

Interstate 10 in the desert near Blythe

When I was kid, Columbus was a hero. Of course, today, as I understand, kids in school are taught that he was an evil racist colonizer. Whatever. I mean, that was 500 years ago. I still like the name of Interstate 10.

I’d love to go on a Great American Road Trip with you someday. Hit the 10, the open road, cruising through the Sonoran Desert and Coachella Valley, the snow-capped mountains in the distance, the green fields of Palm Springs. They say the journey is half the trip. I say it’s the whole enchilada. I’ll even let you pick out the music.

I miss you, kid. I think about these things all the time.

Sophia,

I wish I knew what inspires you. I hope something inspires you. Math, music, art, swimming, or whatever. Something more than TikTok and rolling your eyes at your mother.

What about graphic design? When I was younger, I had a lot of interest in it. I never took a class, and, truth be told, I was probably never good at it. But I was definitely inspired. Technology has certainly changed graphic design since I was a kid. But I really believe some people are born with a certain ‘sense’ for it.

Have you ever opened up Microsoft Word, or some other application that allows typing, and played with the font? I’m talking about the typeface, the way the letters look and feel. The fonts all have names; the more common fonts are Times New Roman, Helvetica, Arial. I always liked Garamond. There are actually hundreds of fonts, maybe thousands.

But it’s more than selecting the right font. For me, graphic design was about creating a whole new message, usually using fonts and typography, but always with a focus on a visual experience for the user.

some Emigre fonts

When I was in college, in the early 1990s, there was a magazine called Emigre. My friend Dennis tuned me on to it when we both lived in Prescott, Arizona. I remember being thrilled by the content. I thought I was clever, but wow, they focused on young, hip graphic designers who were unafraid of taking risks and making bold statements. They blew me away. It really opened my eyes.

“Culprits” (each magazine edition had its own name; Culprits was the fall 1992 printing. Read it here) came with two new typefonts: Remedy and Keedy Sans. Most printings came with at least a few new fonts free for download. We had internet back then, but it was very slow and primitive. You couldn’t just Google whatever you wanted. Being able to download something like a new typeface was amazing. Even the advertisements were amazing. The Dictatorship of Helvetica!

the Culprits edition of Emigre

I have a cousin who was really good at graphic design. Her name is Mazana. I’m sorry you probably won’t ever meet her. A very cool woman. She grew up next to Tommy Hilfiger. Not a clothing store, but Thomas J. Hilfiger himself, the founder of the store. They were neighbors; no kidding. Believe it or not, Mazana has a son named Zander, and he was born about a week before you were born. You’re both named after Johann Zander, our distant relative who first came to America from Germany in the 1800s.

Zander would be your second cousin. A first cousin is when you have the same grandmother. A second cousin is when you have the same great-grandmother, and so on. I am embarrassed to admit I was an adult before I learned this. You and Zander are both great-grandchildren of Evelyn Bruggeman, who was my mother’s mother. Just a little family trivia.

Anyway, if you ever become a graphic designer, maybe someday seek out your cousin Mazana Bruggeman. Technically, you’re first cousins, once removed.

Sophia,
I wonder if any original Lau Chun paintings were burned in Maui. I know, it’s a small thing given the death and destruction. But still, I was wondering that today after looking at more photos of Lahaina.

There were plenty of art galleries on Front Street. I know your mother and I spent a long time in Sargent’s Art Gallery, which was directly across the street from Cheeseburger in Paradise. The gallery was totally destroyed. I even checked their website to see if they had any original Lau Chun paintings. I didn’t see any in their inventory, but you never know.

Does your mom even talk about Lau Chun at all anymore? I assume you know what I’m talking about, but I can’t be sure. Your mom really liked a painter in Hawaii named Lau Chun. She was selling his paintings at Nana Lee’s art gallery when we met. I’ve met Lau Chun several times; he lives in Honolulu. Anyway, most of his paintings that you see hanging on walls are giclées. It’s a fancy French word that basically means it’s a copy. They’re excellent copies, but nevertheless, still copies. Rarely, the original is available for sale. They’re much more expensive. And obviously, they’re one-of-a-kind and irreplaceable.

Once in a while, some art gallery somewhere would have an original Lau Chun for sale. Is there a painting in your house of a girl on a beach? That’s a Lau Chun original. The girl in the painting is actually your mother when she was much younger.

Believe it or not, for a long time, the background screen on my phone has been his painting “Waimanalo” (which, by the way, at this writing, August 11, 2023, is for sale on eBay – the ORIGINAL is for sale! – for $9000).

https://www.google.c … +chun+waimanalo+1982

Sophia,
Perhaps you’ve seen the news about Maui. I know you probably don’t feel very connected to Hawaii. Furthermore, you were born on Kauai, not Maui. It’s too bad.

But I still feel connected. From my perspective, you were meant to grow up in Hawaii. But that’s another story. I’ve been to all the Hawaiian Islands, even Ni‘ihau. I don’t have many memories from Maui. I’ve probably been there only a dozen times or so. But I remember Maui’s westside well – Ka‘anapali Beach, Lahaina Town, Kihei, and Wailea. Your mother and I visited them all.

Here’s a story. About four months after I met your mother, we went to Maui together. We weren’t married yet. We went there to see a live show at the Maui Theater, right there on Front Street in Lahaina. The next day, we walked the length of Front Street with all of its shops and art galleries. I learned a lot from her about art. I enjoyed that time. In fact, we spent more than an hour in one specific art gallery. There, I discovered the paintings of Robert Watson. Your mother liked a thousand-dollar painting of poppies by Anna Good.

memories lost: Cheeseburger in Paradise on Front Street in Lahaina

We ended up eating at a restaurant called Cheeseburger in Paradise. Goofy name, I know. But it’s located directly on the beach with great sunset views. It was crowded. They told us we could wait for a table of our own – or share a table with another couple. We accepted the latter. The other couple was from Bakersfield, California. The man’s name was Dell and he was a lawyer. I forgot the wife’s name; she was a nurse. The food was okay, but it was loud and crowded. I accidentally left my sunglasses there when we left (Maui Jim’s: really nice sunglasses). I went back the next day and surprisingly, they still had them.

Anyway, this is just some dumb, random memory with your mom from 23 years ago. But I saw in the news that Cheeseburger in Paradise has burned to the ground, along with all the nearby shops and art galleries. So, another part of my world is gone forever. Now, just stinking memories.

What’s funny? As much as I remember from that trip, I can’t remember what show we saw at the theater. Maybe your mother remembers. But probably not.

Cheeseburger in Paradise

By telling you all this, I want you to know you’re part of something bigger than yourself. You’re not just some girl in Lynchburg. You’re part of a family (a divided family, but still…) that has memories and roots and love and experiences, all in Hawaii. I know your mother has forgotten all the good times and bizarrely only wants to remember the bad ones. I can’t change that. But I’m telling you, there were happy times in beautiful places. I wanted my kids to be born into that world.

beach view

beach view