Category Archives: Journeys

First Profession

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The process of becoming a lay member of the Order of Preachers—the Dominican Order, or Order of St. Dominic—is not short. First you spend a year as an inquirer, or postulant in the older terminology. During that time you are learning about the Order and the Dominican rule, and discerning whether you are in fact called to be a lay Dominican. In your second year, as a candidate, or novice, you try to live according to the rule, and you continue your discernment process. In the meantime, the chapter leadership are doing the same, discerning whether in their view you are called to join the order.

At the end of these two years, assuming that you still wish to and that the chapter council agrees, you are eligible to make your first profession—that is, to promise for the first time to live according to the Dominican rule. First profession is always for a particular period of time; and your period of temporary profession can last (with renewals) for three to seven years. At the end of that, you either leave the order or promise to live according to the rule for life.

This morning, I and four others in my chapter made our first professions as Lay Dominicans. Three others made their life professions; and one fellow was received and is consequently now a candidate, or novice. It was quite a morning.

May St. Dominic, St. Catherine of Siena, and St. Thomas Aquinas pray for us!

Back From Vacation

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There ought to be a rule: don’t blog when you’re tired. But I’m gonna break it anyway.

We’re back, just this afternoon, from a week spent in sunny, steamy Washington DC, Jane and I and all four kids. We did as much as our combined energy levels would allow, and still didn’t see half of the things we would have liked to see. Here are a few notes.

First, the weather was hot and extremely humid, but not as bad as I’d feared. I thought it would be like the time I went to Suffolk, Virginia one August on a business trip, and every time I stepped out of doors, my glasses immediately fogged up. Instead, it was unpleasant, but didn’t really stop us from doing anything we wanted to do. And despite rumors and predictions of thunderstorms, we only got rained on a couple of times. Since we were usually travelling about by foot and the Metro, that was no bad thing.

Second, the Metro: if you go to DC, find a place to stay near a Metro station. The Metro is seriously cool. It works.

Third, we had a great time. We asked the kids today what one thing they especially liked, and they all had different answers. Then we asked what one thing they thought was a waste of time—and there was dead silence. Too cool.

We arrived very late last Saturday evening, and had a lot of fun getting to the place we were staying. Google Maps is OK for the grand scheme of things, but is lousy for the last mile: when dealing with the peculiarities of small local road networks, its directions are confusing and sometimes just plain wrong. We went to bed at about the normal time, California-time, which wasn’t helpful for getting acclimated.

On Sunday, consequently, we all slept in. After grocery shopping (we rented a townhome in Alexandria) and lunch, we spent some time wandering around Old Town Alexandria, and then caught the Metro to the National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception for the 4:30 mass. The mass was a bit lugubrious for my taste—insufficiently joyful—but the Shrine itself more than made up for it. It’s absolutely gorgeous. We spent a little time exploring after mass, and if I’d been on my own I’d gladly have spent another hour or so. I’d have gone back if I’d been able to carve out the time. They have an excellent bookstore as well.

The Shrine is on the grounds of the Catholic University of America (CUA) which I’d not heard of, and still know nothing about, except that the campus is covered with beautiful old stone buildings.

Monday morning we took the Metro to the National Mall and went to the Smithsonian. We did the Air and Space Museum, with a brief detour over to the National Gallery for lunch with an old friend. I’d have dearly loved to spend more time there, but the kids rebelled, and there was more to do back at Air and Space. One of the neat things about the Smithsonian is that it’s free, so hopping back and forth is no big deal.

My eldest son has a thing about pandas, and so on Tuesday we took the Metro to the National Zoo. Nice place; we saw all three pandas, along with elephants, orangutans, and so forth. Then a quick lunch; and then we hit the American History Museum in the afternoon.

Wednesday was Mount Vernon, which was seriously cool. We toured the mansion itself, and spent hours in the museum, which just went on and on. We’d have covered most of the grounds as well, like as not, but a serious rain began to fall and drove us on home.

Thursday was the Air and Space Museum’s Udvar-Hazy Center, out by Dulles Airport, another time when Google Maps was good for getting us to the right general vicinity and lousy at the last mile. Not to worry; we were a little early, and spent some time learning that as a family we despise Dunkin’ Donuts. The Udvar-Hazy Center’s a neat place; we saw the Blackbird, the Space Shuttle Enterprise, the Enola Gay (!) and a lot of other neat aircraft. We also got to meet Barbara Curtis and a few of her kids. Nice lady; I didn’t get to talk with her or her kids as much as I’d have liked.

Everybody was pretty tired, so we had a late lunch and went to see Miyazaki’s new picture, Ponyo. (Capsule review: more like My Neighbor Totoro than anything else of his I’ve seen; great for the little ones, but we all loved it.)

Friday was the shortest day, for most of us. We went to Arlington National Cemetary to see the Tomb of the Unknowns and the Changing of the Guard; and after that it was clear that little Mary was Done. The boys were pretty wiped as well, so I took Mary and the boys back home, and Jane and Anne went on to see the Natural History Museum and the National Gallery. They had a great time, evidently; I’m slightly envious.

And then, this morning, we came home.

In short, we did none of the major monuments, nor did we go see the Capitol, or the Supreme Court, or the White House. But what we saw was all worth while. Wish we could go back.

Winding Down

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Well, we’re winding down.

Wednesday we took it fairly easy…went to the Museum of Northern Arizona, which had a neat exhibit on a kind of dinosaur which was previously unknown to have existed in North America; an MNU paleontologist found it in Utah, in a fossilized seabed. An odd place; they figure it must have floated some sixty to one-hundred miles out to sea. They call it a therinzosaur; they’d previously been known only in East Asia.

Yesterday we went to the Grand Canyon Caverns, which are about 90 miles west of Flagstaff on Route 66. I remember going there as a kid, and thinking it was neat, so off we went; yesterday I discovered the meaning of Route 66 Roadside Attraction. The tour guide’s patter, in particular, reminded me of Cheetos: dangerously cheesy. The boys liked it, and it was interesting to see it again, but I don’t think I’d go back.

Then we toddled off to Jerome, a mining town which was once the third largest city in Arizona, with more than 15,000 residents; it now has 500, and that’s an increase. They have some interesting museums. The boys were wiped by then (and so was I) so we didn’t walk around much. Instead, we went back to Flagstaff, had dinner, and went swimming.

Today we paid a brief visit to Walnut Canyon National Monument, and then headed south to Phoenix, where we are at present. We’re about to go out and get some ice cream; and later on, when it’s maybe a little cooler, we hope to play some miniature golf. Tomorrow, we might take in a museum or two, before heading off to the airport. We shall see.

The Grand Canyon

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We went to the Grand Canyon today. We went, we saw, my boys’ capacity for grandeur was exceeded, and eventually we left. I’ll possibly have more to say later, but for tonight I’m tired. We’re gonna take it easy tomorrow.

A Matter of Taste

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So today, as planned, we drove down through Oak Creek Canyon to Sedona. We visited Flagstaff about eight years ago, but we didn’t get to Sedona on that trip; so it had been almost twenty-two years since I last saw the Red Rocks. I’d forgotten how impressive they are, and how beautiful the area around Sedona is.

I’d planned on driving around Sedona a fair amount, revisiting the places Jane and I went back then: Airport Mesa, the Chapel of the Cross, Tlaquepaque, and so forth. As it worked out, we parked in the “Uptown” part of the Sedona, and never really got any further into town. We looked at the shops, and had some ice cream, and bought one “Red Dirt” shirt each (T-shirts literally dyed with the local red soil). I don’t know if it’s the shirts or the dying process, but they have a really neat soft feel to them, and they are more-or-less the color of the Red Rocks.

But we spent most of our time in Sedona not actually in Sedona: we took a Pink Jeep tour up Schnebly Hill Road, the old, mostly unpaved road that goes up the side of the canyon and which was the first road between Sedona and Flagstaff. The views along the way are simply stunning.

I asked my boys later whether they’d enjoyed the tour; yes, very much. What did they like? The scenery, or the bumpy ride? The bumpy ride. Well, it was fun.

After the tour, we headed out of town again; there’s a ton of roadwork being done in Sedona at the moment, and the traffic snarls, which we saw from the jeep, were horrendous. We decided to cut our losses, and had a picnic in a picnic area about a third of the way up Oak Creek Canyon instead. Interesting place: there were ants absolutely everywhere, except (for some unknown reason) on the picnic tables, and we spent a considerably length of time just watching them.

I dropped a peanut on the ground, just to see what would happen. The little black ants found it first, and definitely found it an object of interest; but before a real trail of them could be formed, the peanut was discovered by one of the much larger red ants…which commenced to drag it toward its nest. I was floored: the ant was much smaller than the peanut, but while we watched the ant moved it over a foot. Eventually another red ant showed up, and while I think they were from the same nest they didn’t work together all that well.

After dinner, back in Flagstaff, I noticed that there were some significant clear patches in the sky, so we headed to Lowell Observatory to let it get dark, and see if we could see some stars. We live in the L.A. Basin, and the light pollution is such that you can see maybe seven stars in the entire sky, if you’re lucky. My kids have no real idea what the Milky Way looks like.

We got to enjoy the Observatory’s visitor center, but by the time it got dark the cloud cover had increased again and there were no stars to be seen, darn it!

And so, back to the hotel, and so to bed.

Male Pattern Bonding

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I am approaching the end of another very busy day, our first full day here in Arizona. We are staying at the Embassy Suites, which has a nice complementary breakfast, so we started the day with that. The boys had bacon and Froot Loops (though not mixed together).

After that we went to the grocery store and visited the bookstore across the street; and then we went to mass. Flagstaff has three small Catholic churches, but they’ve evidently been combined into a single large parish named San Francisco de Asis; all Sunday masses are at the particular church called St. Pius X, and so we wended our way hither. At first glance, St. Pius X wasn’t much to look at, and I suspect the mass would have given hives to some of the liturgical purists around and about the Catholic blogosphere. Be that as it may, the sanctuary, though plain and boxlike, was clearly furnished with great love, and if the mass was of the “happy-clappy” variety it was also jammed. Both the sanctuary and the parish hall were completely full of people, and we were lucky to find a seat. Folks at the parish are involved in Knights of Columbus, Cursillo, Marriage Encounter, various Bible studies, and a variety of other activities. Oh, and the sermon (given by a deacon) was right on, dealing with the day’s readings in a clear, no-nonsense way.

This is a vibrant, living parish. And tomorrow at 6:30 PM they are breaking ground for the construction of a new (presumably larger) sanctuary. Woohoo!

After church we returned to the hotel and made a picnic lunch from the stuff we’d bought first thing in the morning, and headed northeast for Wupatki National Monument and Sunset Crater. Jane and I had visited both on our honeymoon quite a many years ago now; and the boys had seen them before on a previous vacation when David was three-and-a-half and James was in a stroller.

The weather was adequate today; it rained on us a bit, but nothing to worry about. To a certain extent, that was due to visit to Wupatki; according to Weather.com, Wupatki hasn’t gotten any rain lately despite lots of rain to the east, west, and south. One imagines that this is why the Indian ruins there have survived so long.

We didn’t play Munchkin tonight; instead, we had a long swim and an overly long dinner.

Tomorrow I think we’ll head down Oak Creek Canyon to Sedona, there not to take the art galleries too seriously, and possibly to ride in one of the famous Pink Jeeps. We’ll see.

A Nice Little Hideaway

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As I write, my boys and I are in Flagstaff, Arizona. We flew into Phoenix this morning, cranked the tunes on the iPod in our rented Dodge Caliber, and cruised north, making brief stops at Montezuma Castle (a Sinagua cliff dwelling) and Montezuma Well (a natural well and sinkhole, with cliff dwellings in its walls). We’re now sitting in our hotel room. The boys are watching a show about Celtic bog mummies on cable TV (a rare treat for them), and I’m checking out the hotel’s wireless network. It’s raining outside (well, it is monsoon season), but catty-corner across the intersection is a big Barnes & Noble.

We’re here on vacation, and over the next week, weather permitting, we’re going to do all kinds of touristy things. We plan to visit the Grand Canyon, and the Meteor Crater, and Wupatki National Monument, and like that. Tonight we need to do a little shopping, and hit the bookstore, and we’re gonna have dinner at the Cracker Barrel.

Life is good.

Milestones

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Been quiet recently, not because things have been quiet, but because there’s been a lot going on. I’ve been doing a lot of reading, and a lot of praying, and a lot of thinking, and I haven’t generally felt like discussing any of it with the world at large.

No offense.

But yesterday was a significant milestone that I’d like to record. Most Catholic bloggers went all out for Easter Sunday, and Easter Sunday was indeed a glorious day; I went to the Easter Vigil, and then the whole family got up in time for the Easter Sunrise mass at a park not far from where we live that’s perched on the side of a mountain high above Los Angeles with a view I simply could not believe. And the air was warm and crystal clear.

But yesterday was even better. Because yesterday was the day that Jane, after mumble, mumble years as an Anglican, was received in the Catholic Church, was confirmed, and made her first communion as a Catholic. Two of our kids were able to receive their first communion along with her. And then we all went to Baskin-Robbins for ice cream.

We’re here. We’re finally all here. For this I am truly thankful. (And the ice cream was nice, too.)

At Last, It Can Be Told…

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I’ve recently received permission from Ian Hamet to explain the events behind his mysterious disappearance from the Web last July, and his enigmatic reappearance in mid-October. The tale’s not quite as lurid as the fevered imaginings that had me calling the American consulate on Ian’s behalf, but it’ll do.

It seems that in early July Ian attended a film festival in Shanghai. The festival lasted a couple of days, running from before dawn until well after dark, and he was there for most of it. During a late-night showing of one of Bruce Li’s early films he found himself alone in the theater with a Chinese gentleman who turned out to be nearly as much of a film geek as Ian. They got quite chummy as the film went on, and afterwards moved on to a nearby bar for some mutai.

If you’ve never heard of it (I hadn’t), mutai is an incredibly strong rice wine, about 100 proof. All important business deals, so Ian tells me, are concluded over far too many glasses of mutai.

After enough mutai to underwrite a sizeable venture, Ian staggered away home, leaving his new chum inert and halfway under the table. He didn’t think any more of it–not after the hangover wore off–until a couple of days later, when he was exploring a new section of Shanghai. As he’s reported in the past, Shanghai drivers are erratic, careless, and pay no attention to stop signs. When a car approached him he paid it no mind, simply being careful to keep out of its way. There was nothing unusual about it until the car stopped dead in the middle of the crosswalk and two big guys bundled him into the back seat. They shoved him down onto the floor and held him there. Naturally, they wouldn’t answer his questions, and Ian tells me he wasn’t inclined to push.

When they let him up, the car was down by the waterfront. They hustled him onto a motor boat, and took him out to a barge anchored in the harbor. And that’s where Ian spent the next three months–on a barge in the middle of Shanghai harbor. A barge that, it turns out, belonged to his chum from the film festival.

It’s still not clear to Ian just why Mr. Chinese Film Geek grabbed him. It seems likely that Mr. CFG was a bigwig in the local mob, and perhaps he was afraid he’d said a little too much to Ian over the mutai. Or maybe he just wanted to have a fellow film geek on tap to help him practice his English; he seemed to think that Ian had offered as much during their mutual binge. Also, he was impressed with Ian’s capacity for mutai.

Be that as it may, Ian spent the next three months below decks. During the day he was made to help one of Mr. CFG’s underlings devise Chinese subtitles for pirated American movies; the underling’s English was bad, and Ian’s Chinese isn’t good, and I’m sorry to say that some of Ian’s translations were not untinged with malice. (Ian has a wicked sense of humor.) And then, in the evenings, Mr. CFG would send for him and they’d watch Mr. CFG’s favorite American movies and Mr. CFG would practice his English. And then Mr. CFG would say something on the order of, “Good night, Ian, sleep well, I’ll most likely kill you in the morning,” and send him off to bed.

One night, shots rang out on deck while Our Man In Banana was watching Master of the Flying Guillotine with Mr. CFG. More shots followed. Finding himself alone in Mr. CFG’s sanctum, he managed to slip out and over the side during the confusion. He’s still not quite sure just what was going on, though he conjectures that one of Mr. CFG’s business partners had come to pay off a debt of some kind. Anyway, he swam to the nearest dock and was gone before anyone thought to look for him.

It was an interesting experience, he tells me, but one he could have done without; especially since his landlord had confiscated and sold most of his belongings.

So there you have it: Ian Hamet’s Big Adventure, and more than enough reason, I’d say, to leave China for good.

Update: It’s been suggested that perhaps I’ve let my imagination run away with me–that perhaps it didn’t happen quite like this. Or even that it didn’t happen at all like this. Well, maybe. All I can say is that my version is a lot more interesting and colorful than the tale Ian actually told me, which was a sad little thing of venal clerks, dishonest landlords, and unfeeling bureacracy. I like mine better.

Diet Watch

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I’ve not said much about my diet in the last several months, which probably means that most of my readers have forgotten about it, and the rest probably think that I’ve given up on it. Not so! Today marks my first anniversary, more or less–and I’m down a total of 64 pounds (six of them in the last month). God is good. God is very good.