Certified Orange County (source: Vintagraph)

My mom used to know a man who grew oranges in his back yard. According to her, his oranges made the phrase Orange county meaningful. Paul was a world war II veteran. He was especially proud of the fact that he was a navy seal. Even when random young men were carted away to the war, only the brilliant ones were picked out to join the seals and he was one of them.

In the war, he served as an accountant. Not a typical soldier out in the front line. After all anything for the war effort was appreciated. He was really good at what he did. In his time, he topped the board for the whole state of California. That’s how good he was.

After a year in the service, the war was over. Paul worked for the government for a number of years until he decided to start his own business selling car parts. He was a hard working businessman and was unabashedly republican. He holds hard work in high regard.

Years later, he met my mom in a ballroom at Placentia. He learned that my mom had been living in San Francisco for a year until people at work started ganging up on her because they were envious of the job offers she had been getting. You see, ma is a hard worker. She then moved to Los Angeles and dabbled with work opportunities there, but her landlord didn’t like the fact she was getting a lot of calls. They were calls for job offers and sometimes suitors. For this reason, she got called a hussy. In just two months, she decided to move from LA to Orange.

Paul offered her a job as an assistant. Tax season was coming and Paul did consultations and tax audits on the side – for fun. My mom took the job right away. She’s also the kind of girl who has fun with numbers.

Paul helped my mom settle in to Orange. It was a symbiotic relationship. From the stories, I’d say he must have had an Obsessive Compulsive Personality Disorder. He wanted everything neat and in a certain order otherwise, he’d be irritable. My mom found a kindred spirit. Here was this old man who was as sharp and meticulous as she was.

But it was this meticulousness that created a tension between Paul and his only son. It doesn’t hurt to mention that his son is a democrat. Regardless, Paul couldn’t accept the fact that his son squandered Paul’s hard earned money and that, despite all his investment in his son’s education, the man couldn’t find himself a decent job. He grew bitter and cold toward him.

On the other hand, Paul grew soft with my mom. One day, he offered to marry my mom to free her of her woes. Her time was running out and her status was tenuous. She accepted the offer. It wasn’t a fake marriage. They truly cared for each other for two years. But they drove each other crazy. They were both too meticulous. So, they divorced.

A year later, it was revealed that Paul had cancer and it was terminal. They learned that he got himself a young Filipina girlfriend and even visited her in the Philippines. A few months later, he died and left a lump sum of money to the girlfriend he’d only known for a few months. This lump sum was worth 240,000 USD, released as 30,000 USD annually.

In his will, he stated that his son will only inherit his home and his other real estate investments by the time he is 60. If his son wanted to live there, he’d have to rent it out until he was 60.

As for my mom, he left her a note. My mom never told me what was in that note.

I guess, this is turning out to be a very personal post but I wanted to share the story of Paul, who I never met but will never be forgotten. Without him, I would never taste the sweet oranges of Orange.

Pretty much what LA looks like from the plane (c/o: TG Daily)

About forty minutes flying in to Los Angeles, you are greeted by an aerial view of rocky terrains, deserts, (what looked to me as) solar farms and block after block of gray little boxes. Trees are spaced every few blocks, unlike back home where there are lush landscapes covered in green not too far from the city. If they say the Philippines is in bad shape in terms of forest cover, I think this part of the states will clearly put up a stiff competition. It is instead a sprawl of concrete from coast to in-land. The good thing though is that every thing seems a lot cleaner, a lot more organized… But then again, these are just first impressions.

I live about 45 minutes away from LAX. The drive was seamless, freeway after freeway. On the road, my mom put the radio on at KIIS FM, which is not a surprise. I suddenly remembered my good old days as a disc jock and getting samplers from the station – music imports of hits. In fact, stations like KIIS make hits which trickle down to the rest of the world. Somehow it came full circle, being in the place of the hit maker. I then asked my mom what she considers driving music. Apart from listening to KIIS, she was in to a lot of old stuff, not surprisingly. But that’s cool.

When I put on my mom’s CD, her friend who accompanied her was surprised that I didn’t mind the music. According to her, I wasn’t even born at the time. True. I explained I have a WIDE taste in music and didn’t mind listening to some oldies when I’m in the mood.

Welcome to America, Kim.

Here’s the soundtrack of my ride to my new home. I have to say, yesterday’s weather was perfect. It’s true what they say, it’s always sunny in…you know where I am.

To which he agreed, before realizing the consequence. He later realized that we had roughly about 12 hours to kill.

“So where are we going?” I asked him.

“I don’t know…” he said, as panic crept up in his expression.

“But you’re supposed to know this city better than I do!”

He looked dumbfounded.

I got up and went to the counter of the coffee shop. Shortly after I asked a few questions, I went back to our table and started packing up.

“Uh…where are we going?” he asked me.

“Trust me.”

“Do you know where we’re going?”

“I think so.”

In the jeep, my friend looked uncomfortable.

“Looks like I’m taking you out of your comfort zone.” I said to him.

He nods.

We finally reached our destination. It is a quaint place in the other side of town called, “The Strip”. Literally. There’s a sign that says so.

We found a place where we could have a warm cheap-ass meal and we decided to have a few drinks.

Over drinks the man could barely hold his alcohol. And then he said, “This is so new to me and yet you do this all the time…these spontaneous trips. My life, on the other hand, is summarized like this: work and home…” After a few more drinks and some issues sorted, he drawls, “You know, I haven’t talked like this with anyone in eight months!”

I just smiled. Mission accomplished.

We capped the night in a corner store with a videoke coin-slot machine. He dedicated the songs, “Puff the magic dragon” and “Leaving on a Jet plane” to me. I understood why he picked the latter song…but PUFF THE MAGIC FRIGGIN DRAGON?! The former on the hand, if taken literally, is a fucked up song about this dragon who eventually lost his friend which prompted him to become a recluse. Gee.

Never too old for videoke.

We exited when the table next to us started singing Aegis. On our way out he said to me, “Let’s meet here five years later. Same place.”

I’m writing this down to remember and also because he snores like an ox. Damn it. I guess I’m going to have to sleep it off in the bus.

Note to self: Tomorrow is my last pitstop before I head back to homebase. I think it’s just about the right time.

For tonight’s playlist, I thought I’d pepper it with a bit of nostalgia. As I always say, things are a lot more memorable when you experience them in a new place. If you happen to have a listen, try doing so somewhere new, somewhere outside your comfort zone. Take your laptop outdoors or load the song in your player and listen to it while you drive your way to work or school. Hopefully…hopefully, you’ll remember this post even after five years.

Eva Cassidy – Fields Of Gold [ Download ]

Adele – Hometown Glory (Hotel Cafe Live) [ Download ]

Peter, Paul & Mary – Puff The Magic Dragon [ Download ]

Paul Simon – Love And Hard Times [ Download ]

Sean Lennon – Tomorrow [ Download ]

I absolutely dig their album “Declaration of Dependence”. Full of feel good song, healthy for the heart. Thanks to Kaye for bringing my attention this music.

Feist Live

I don’t like to admit that I like The Carpenters, because in my mind I wouldn’t count them as a personal favorite but as it turns out I do like how their songs sound like without necessarily subscribing to The Carpenters shrine ring. I sometimes find myself bopping my head to the kind of song that reminds me how The Carpenters write their songs.  I’m not saying that, the song that I hear which then remind of another, lacks originality.  My guess is that people who write these somewhat parallel songs simply share outbursts of sensation, whether melancholy or joy, and share sensibilities that cut across age gaps.

I also say music is always inspired by another music or the sounds of nature, which sounds just the same for everyone if they just listen carefully.

For that matter, I truly admire Feist‘s latest ruminations. Her album The Reminder interestingly evokes that kind of musical fervor in me.  Her song reverberates in the room in your brain where they keep memories and nostalgia, real or imagined.  And washes you with body tingles with each deep instrumental vibration.

It may sound a bit exaggerated, but I’m writing to you now as I listen through this beautiful album…

A cold heart will burst / if mistrusted first
A calm heart will break / when given a shake