Happy Mother's Day

Why do we celebrate Mother's Day once a year? 364 days in the year, it's OUR day. And we select one day to say, "Gee Mom, thanks!"

Pastor Poon went into great detail dissecting through Proverbs 31, describing a godly woman. And it's so true. My mom slept after we slept. Woke up before we woke up. Had every meal ready for us. Never complained. Never sighed. Did it out of complete servitude. And what did my brother and I do? Rode her like a slave. Sure, we said thanks. Sure, we helped out. But I know that sometime between 2 months old and 1 year old, we learned not to take "No" for an answer. Cuz that's so true! Mom would never say "No." And if she did... we'll just work on her a bit. Wear her down...and the "No" becomes a "Maybe" becomes a "Yes."

Mom has been wanting to go to Alcatraz Island for almost two years now. We've ping-ponged the idea back and forth. Coming up with excuses like "We can't get tickets", "We have a midterm to study for and can't come out", "It's a lot of walking and your legs won't hold up", to something completely lame like "You'll get seasick from the ferry boat ride."

Well, this past weekend we finally scratched one of Mom's list. We parked in Chinatown, walked down to the Ferry Building and across the Embarcadero to Pier 41. Walking!?! I live in San Jose!! I never walk!! I either drive or I go nowhere. The weather was pleasurable. There were multiple street faires going on at the same time for us do mosey through.

I personally took a trip down memory lane with every street corner I turned and every shop I walked past. What once was a Comic store is now a tattoo parlor. The donut shop we'd run to in the early mornings for hot chocolate is still there, but the facade is different and the name is foreign. Some things never change. The salon across the street from the playground still exists. In fact, they still have the same posters up from 20 years ago. That coffee shop I use to crave walking by stood firm throughout the years of recession. The crowd and customer is different now. No longer are they filled with gray haired, weary eyed Italian immigrants. They are now full of Ralph Lauren, Gucci wearing preppies with too much time on their hands and not enough caffeine in their bodies.

With what seemed like a marathon, we finally arrived at Pier 41. We played the roles of tourists specklessly. Poking our noses in all the touristy stuff. Buying that $5 ice cream cone for but a few moments of satisfaction. Standing around and gawking at the piles and piles of blubber, aka seals, sunbathing on the wooden palettes. The ferry ride to Alcatraz was short. The tour was even shorter. Mom wasn't particularly interested in the stories of high time criminals like Al Capone. She merely walked around the cells, made comments of how advanced American jails are compared to Chinese jails, and called it day. HA! All this build up and the crescendo leads to disappointment!

Ah well... there's always next year.

The evening capped off with a few rounds of Mah Jong and a nice stroll back to the North Beach area for dinner. Like a couple of European tourists in a Chinese restaurant, we were the Chinese tourists not knowing right from left at the Italiano Ristorante.

Sometimes I wonder if the Americans really think that all Chinese eat sweet and sour pork and egg rolls for dinner. And will they appreciate the finer delicateses of Chinese cuisine? The same thing probably crossed our little Italian waiter's mind. "Typical tourist, will probably order spaghetti and meatball. Like everyone else."

Regardless of what we ordered, how advanced American prisons are, or how the sceneries in San Francisco will always be an anchor in my past....this past weekend was Mother's Day. A day we celebrated the heroics of my mom... a darn good example of Proverbs 31.

Oh...and we had dinner with Joyce's mom. But it's just not as fun writing about that, is it?