Korean Stuffed Fish Bun

JWise Food, Photo of the Day

Stuffed fish bun with ice cream from Somi Somi in San Diego, California

A cheating day here on Monday as I stopped at a Korean dessert shop called Somi Somi and indulged with a bun shaped like a fish, stuffed with custard, and topped with vanilla soft serve. I could have opted for matcha, tea, or ube (purple yam, pictured) soft serve flavors along with a host of other fillings such as Nutella, red bean, or taro. Happily, nothing was too sweet nor too big. While I tried the most “bland” concoction, I’ll have to bring Caroline over here as I’m pretty sure she’d enjoy trying the ube and taro in her fish pocket.

Convoy Street here on the northside of San Diego is a mecca for all things Asian. I can’t begin to count how many various Asian restaurants and bakeries dot this street and some of the surrounding streets carry on the theme. With the diversity come options for tasting things I’ll never find in Lebanon, Kansas, where the 200 people that live there have but a small grocery store and really about nothing else. Of course, to afford options in America where flavors and the culture of the world are found you’ll pay for the luxury of living there as the cost of living is usually exorbitant.

The Chemistry of Anger

JWise Thoughts

John Wise in San Diego, California

Growing older, I’ve been fortunate enough to also grow away from anger. The inherited disease was given to me by a father who was never very far away from his own deep-seated rage. Later in life, I learned that he was given the gift by his own father, who likely also inherited it from his own parents.

This is a primitive emotion that has never proven helpful regarding love, but as it has moved into the background, I can honestly say that I do not miss it. Contrary to my father, I did not find this ugliness within a gift, and I would have gladly given it back had I understood early on how toxic it was. I only call it a gift because, apparently others cherish this beast that leaps out of their emotional weak points and have embraced owning it.

Even after discovering through patience how to distance myself from my own worst enemy, I cannot claim it is dead. What I now know about it is just how detrimental it is to my very being. Not only have others suffered when I’m in its grip, but now I see the anguish it leaves me with.

I can go long periods where honest anger is not present, and the minor annoyances should be seen for what they are, but during the now rare moment when I butt into this Goliath of hostility, I am left not only shocked at how profoundly it takes near-total control of me but how raw I feel the next day. The chemical wreckage is felt as though I’m hungover.

If not for my sense of love for my best friend and wife, Caroline, and her ability to stand with me, trying to negotiate the turbulence where uncertainty breeds greater volatility, I may have never escaped the trap that blinds me.

There is no permanent cure for the lurking monster, as it was cultivated for far too many years during times when examples of love, nurturing, and mentoring were supposed to be at the forefront of a developing child’s evolution. When parents show their children raging hatred, how can it be that they are surprised when young adults demonstrate back at society their own raging hatred for not being loved?

I Don’t Much Like Old People

JWise Thoughts

Fly

I’m an old guy now, so why do I dislike old people? Old people are anathema to progress and far too often dwell in the lament that puts their inability to adapt on display. In this sense, they represent an obsession with an idealized time that no longer exists and can no longer be brought out of the decaying past. What was is not what is.

So what was it about this moment when things were perfect? I’d venture to say it was the time when the now old person was quite young, and their mind was wide open to exploring what was new in their day. What made that day “their” day? They were likely still exploring the things that would form their outlook as an adult, but then routine jammed its reality into their existence, and they never escaped its clutches.

Out of that routine, people emerge when the boredom of their lives becomes overbearing, but then they realize they are out of sync with all the changes that happened while they were working or raising children. Now, they resent a world they no longer understand.

Sea Grass on the Seashore

JWise Photo of the Day

Sea Grass in San Diego, California

Not a sandpiper in sight but the curlew, seagull, and occasional pelican make random appearances. The marine layer hung out longer this morning but that’s the norm in summer when inland temperatures are getting hotter. Along with it, low clouds and spots of fog can linger till near midday.

Plenty of surfers are out in the water but nary a swimmer. There are no seashells, no sea monsters, more helicopters than boats, but there is no Caroline. A solitary cormorant frantically flaps its wings as it maneuvers up the coast, alone like me.

As the sun burns a hole through the overcast sky to the sea a speckled curlew on its descent opens its wings wide with its orange-ish tan and brown colors standing in contrast to the teal water and white surf. Just before the bird sets down there’s a quick flutter of its wings and then it plops down to start looking for signs of food.

Small clumps of seaweed and seagrass dot the line between wet and dry sand while further up the shore large piles of decaying sea plants attract the flies. With the sun quickly evaporating the shade I’m feeling vulnerable to the burning that while taking place even when overcast, is made worse by direct sunlight. Seems like a good time to take Drake on another walk.

23:30

JWise Photo of the Day

Painting supplies from Dion Terry in San Diego, California

It’s late and I’m too tired to write something meaningful. It’s been a productive day though it feels as though I spent the majority of it driving Dion and Ylva up to Los Angeles to catch their flight to Stockholm, Sweden. After a very late lunch of Korean BBQ in Huntington Beach, I sleepily finished off my drive in heavy traffic back to Solana Beach.

Drake the Dog and I went for a couple of walks; I took one to the grocery store by myself and then busied myself with stuff that gave me a good workout. With Friday nearly at hand, I’m hoping for a more of a “John” day of walking around, writing, thinking, taking some photos, more time with Drake, and hopefully something random or other. For now, though I need to try to fall asleep in another unfamiliar bed and, while it’s a pleasant 65 degrees outside, the humidity is raging at 91% which I’m so unfamiliar with that I’m sweating worse than when I’m home in Phoenix and it’s 50 degrees hotter.

I drift off to sleep with the soft sound of the delicate crickets chirping in the background as opposed to the Arizona type that bleat and bark.

Lost 40 Degrees

JWise Photo of the Day

Del Mar in Southern California

With some reluctance, I drove west until I could go no further. I’m here in Del Mar just north of San Diego, but I’m here without Caroline. This is where the reluctance comes in because I agreed to be a house sitter and watch Drake the Dog while a couple of friends head over to Sweden for some vacation. It’s not that I’m reluctant to watch the dog and chill in the cool coastal air found over here, but without Caroline, the experience will be bittersweet.

When I finally got out of Phoenix the mercury was heading north and by the time I was about halfway to the ocean, it was a solid 116 degrees or about 47c. Here at the seashore, a pleasant 76 degrees greeted me; the 40-degree difference in temperature made for a stark contrast from the desert I was in just about 90 minutes prior.