A road of solitude is a road many have traveled before you – by Route 53

This morning’s commute, the day after Christmas on a Friday was as quiet and uneventful as one could imagine.  I got up and out of the house even before the garbage man could come by and pick up our garbage can full of Christmas Recyclables.  It is beautiful clear mornings such as this which make grand cities such as San Francisco seem so small.  I’ve had mornings like this in Paris, New York and Chicago as well where you feel like the city belongs only to you.

Those already escaping to the mountains for skiing had already thrown their trees to the curb (there goes the holiday spirit).  I took a different route to work.  I drove straight through downtown and San Francisco’s Union Square where my dad once had his dental office.  The stores were dark except for people putting up sale signs and hoping that post Christmas traffic would help bolster a lackluster retail season. 

My office across from San Francisco’s Moscone Convention Center has a bit of a circular story for me.  My office looks out at both the W Hotel (where people sometimes don’t close their blinds and I often get an early morning peep show) and more importantly the Convention Center.  San Francisco’s Convention Center sits on a bit of land with a lot of history for me.  It is where my dad would park his car when I was younger so as not to have to pay for parking.  It used to be an area of burnt out buildings and homeless bonfires.  Even more so  in the 30s-60s it was where my family first got it’s real start in America.

My grandfather sold meat scraps for an old Italian (some say he was Greek)  immigrant who eventually gave the business to the hard working “chinaman”.  It was this business which changed the life of my family.  Eventually my grandfather would be approached by the city’s attorney in charge of the redevelopment agency, Joe Alioto, to sell the building and land to San Francisco.  My grandfather, not wanting to easily give up the business that fed his family, struck a hard bargain that eventually enabled my grandfather to be one of the first Asians to move into Menlo Park, an area that now has many Asians.  Joe Alioto would later go on to become a famous mayor for San Francisco and his grandson, the original Joe Alioto, Jr. would be a class mate of mines in grammar school.

So today I look over this land from my office.  A rich property that my grandfather sold to get our family a head start in San Francisco.  I park my car in a garage that sits about 20 yards from where my dad would park the beat up VW that he drove for 25 years.  Life has many ironies.  Sometimes we don’t even know they are there even though we see them.

Maybe I’m not a workaholic.  Showing up at work this morning was probably a way for me to be with two generations of men that I owe much to.  Maybe it’s a way for me to be close to them.  Wow, really maybe it is a comfort zone for me. It’s interesting how these things just never come to realization until you put them to words. 

I’m not sure how this entry ends. I guess I never really think about what I’m going to write about, but maybe this entry is my road less traveled.  I’m sure others have their road of solitude as well.  Many are in parallel and other paths I may cross.  2008 may be coming to an end, but at least I’ve found my path.

PS  – I just watched this movie called “PS-I Love You”.  Inspirational?  Yes.  hell yes..  If you ever love someone or feel passionate about something, follow your dream and follow theirs.  The video below is the the last song from the movie.  It just seemed to fit my mood today.

“All I want for Christmas is for you to be a good boy” – My Father

I used to hate when I’d ask my dad what I could get him for Christmas.  He’d always say he didn’t need anything.  Then when I pushed him, he’d say that he wanted me to work hard, get good grades, love my mother, brother and sister, and just be a good boy.

Funny how we pick up on these kinds of things from our parents and they don’t become relevant or remembered until we started saying or doing the same things ourselves.  Yesterday I was driving by his old high school on my way to work .  his high school is now a run down government building of some sort that looks half abandoned.  I kind of like driving by it every day.  It is nearly the same route my dad used to drive in the 70’s when he would go to work.  Two days before Christmas I was noting how light the commute traffic was when bam, a car got hit going through the intersection in front of the school and ran into the fire hyrdant causing a geyser a hundred feet into the air.

A flood (no pun intended..well maybe a little) of memories of my dad raced through my head.  My dad would wear a Santa’s hat the day before Christmas and drop gifts off to his clinic co-workers and lab technicians.  He always had that smile on his face.  One of the funny things about my dad is that he had this office which overlooked San Francisco’s Union Square.  The office located at 291 Geary was his for over 30 years.  A small space for one dental chair.  It was his sanctuary.  For 30 years my dad would take his holiday cards that he received and gently place the cards in the slats of his Venetian blinds.  There those cards would sit until the day I closed his office after he was forced to retire.  Everyone joked about the Christmas cards that thry’d have to be forced to stare at in the middle of June with their mouths wide open as he asked them about where they were going for the summer break.  Where was I going with this?  Oh yeah, well I just started doing this myself.  I don’t think I’ll be at this current job or office for 30 years, but it is a bit of an homage to my dad on this Christmas Eve.

So I am here at work on Christmas Eve.  I’m trying to meet some stretch goals for my company.  My dad used to work 6 days a week and golf on the 7th.  Some might have wondered if he was a good dad.  I probably would question someone who does that today, but I do think my brother and sister today would say that their dad was with them and is still with them in spirit.  There is a bit of our father in all of us and today I am working while most people are at home, because I am making sure to put that bread on the table as they say.

Maybe I’m a bit nostalgic, but I’m sure there are others out there who find themselves on this day doing something to remind them of someone who is no longer with them.

Happy Holidays everyone