Dear Yuna

You are an amazing child. 

Tonight was my weekly tennis night. Usually, I lay down to sleep with you on our giant family bed (actually two mattresses put together) where the entire family co-sleeps every night. My job doesn't require me to be away much, so as a consequence you are used to my getting you ready for bed, reading, then actually falling asleep with you every night. So my tennis nights were hard for you.

After my match, I checked my phone and there was a text from your mom: "Yuna is crying, misses you". It was sent at 9:30PM. It was close to 10PM by the time I saw it. I raced home but was relieved to find the apartment dark and quiet. You had managed to fall asleep, on your side of the mattress. 

This past weekend, we were in Brooklyn. It was Easter weekend. We stayed with Ethan and Alice, as usual. They are close friends of ours and have a big apartment. But they also live around the corner from our old apartment on Garfield Place. 

Yuna, you had an all day play date with Emilia, your best friend from Brooklyn. The two of you had been close since you were both six months old and tiny babies in day care. You two always got along so well. With other children, I had to keep a watchful eye. There was the child that went through a biting stage. There were bullies. But with Emilia, the two of you are so busy in your own little worlds that every minute you are together is a sheer joy for the two of you. So your mom and I made it a high priority to time the visit to Brooklyn so we can fit in the play date with Emilia's family.

I know you love Brooklyn. You went to the Park Slope Presbyterian Church, where you know almost the entire congregation, or at least they know you. On Sunday, the children were going to sing some special songs in front of the congregation. You arrived at church in the morning and when you saw Kaila-chan, the two of you started jumping with joy in place. It was so cute. Then, you immediately joined the children's choir practice. Later, you stood in the middle and sang the songs with the rest of the children from the church even though you hadn't even practiced before. I noticed that you learned the chorus after the first verse and were able to sing along. 

Chi-ling remarked to me after the service how amazing you are, that you walk into the church for the first time in months, then without any hesitation just join the children's choir and get up in front of the congregation and sing.

I think you have a winning personality. When I attend the parent-teacher conferences at your Montessori school and ask your teacher who your best friends are, they always reply that you love to play with everyone, and everyone, in turn, loves to play with you. 

It was very difficult for me to leave Brooklyn. All of our friends were there. We loved living in Park Slope, living in that tiny apartment on Seventh Avenue and Garfield Place. The night before the movers were to arrive, a crazy thought went through my mind: I should just call the whole thing off and just stay. Sure, I had no job in Brooklyn while I had a great career opportunity waiting in Albany (a job that took some four months to finish jumping through the requisite hoops). I didn't want to leave "home". 

But you made it easy for me. If you had thrown a tantrum and cried, refusing to leave Park Slope, your friends, Prospect Park and everything you knew (after all, you were born and lived every single of your three years in Park Slope), this would have made it very difficult for me. I was barely holding it together myself. But you were open to the idea of going to a new place, somewhere you didn't know a soul, more than a hundred miles away from the only home you've ever known. I am very thankful to you for making the transition easy for me.

You read your first book last week: Hop on Pop, by Dr Seuss. You can read most words and can read most Dr. Seuss's books by yourself at this point. We have been practicing your numbers. You often write them mirror-imaged, like Leonardo da Vinci's secret handwriting. It's because you are left-handed and it feels more natural for you to start right and go left. We have been working on correcting this problem on your 3's, 4's, 7's, and 9's. 

The Vault

I remember seeing Prince on the Ellen Degeneres show many years ago. I’m a big fan of his and saw him once at the MSG. Anyway, Prince was talking about how he keeps thousands of songs in his head that he has not yet gotten to writing down on paper. I am not really sure if I buy that he has quite that many, but I know that Prince is a prolific musician and probably does keep creating music in his head at a faster rate than can be worked out on paper/in a recording studio.



I’m not exactly the Purple One, but I have been carrying around a few blog topics in my head that I have been working and reworking without ever getting down to typing and posting. OK, they are not in the thousands, but maybe more like a dozen or so. But nevertheless, I feel that I should get it out onto paper and give these thoughts a real existence beyond bouncing around in my head.



Part of my inability/reluctance to continuing on my blog (other than the usual procrastination) is that I have never quite decided on the purpose of this blog. Is it for some imaginary reader (who could very well never even materialize) or is it for myself? In my mind, depending on your audience the tenor of the blog will be very different. I have now decided that the intended reader is only myself and that this will be a forum in which to record and “work out” my thoughts rather than trying to entertain/inform some hypothetical reader. Hopefully, this should free me from my long paralysis and allow me to quickly tap into MY “vault”.

Public Sculpture in Downtown Albany

I work in downtown Albany in a large Gothic building built by the D&H Railroad Company in their heyday but now owned by the State University of New York. It’s in a very central location within Albany, at the intersection of two major roads running through downtown (State and Broadway). Despite this, there are vacant storefronts everywhere you look. Entire buildings appear empty, and while they are not necessarily in a state of decay, there are tell tale signs that the building is no longer in use. Many buildings have “For Sale” signs on them, and storefronts often proclaim “For Rent”.


Recently, the city of Albany has installed a series of sculptures around downtown. They feature life size sculptures of people doing various every day activities. There is the sculpture of a couple of men in suits shaking hands as if to seal a deal in front of the lobby of a large office building. There is a man holding a camera and gesturing, as if instructing his imaginary subject to pose in another location. Another is a Mariachi band by the entrance to a bank. An old man sits on a park bench with his dog sitting faithfully by his side.

The cumulative effect of these sculptures to me is that they underscore the absence in real life of the activities/people they are portraying. There are no Mariachi bands playing around downtown Albany (or any kind of musicians, for that matter). Most of the time, the sidewalks are nearly empty and quiet. These sculptures give physical presence to the absence. It makes it only more conspicuous that Albany does not have an active and populous downtown and must resort to a fantasy of unwavering bronze figures to fill the void.

I presume that the funding for this series of “art work” was public, and as such I wonder what the public benefit is from this expense. I would object to describing these figures as beautiful; they are rather unimaginative and literal depictions of conventional activities. Are they saying something? Do they offer a commentary on the state of decay in another American city that has seen better days? No. they seem to be a lame and pointless way to “activate” the urban landscape in a way that is completely artificial and has no long term compounding benefits.

At some point, these sculptures will deteriorate and have to be removed. And in their absence, the vacuum that will immediately return will not be made smaller by these unmoving and temporary inhabitants of downtown Albany.

Praying for Dan

At Dan’s funeral, the pastor that gave the message said that he will pray for Julia and for Audrey, but not for Dan since he has gone to be with God and therefore is well taken care of. This more or less reflected my own views on the matter as well, and most of my thoughts since the tragedy concerned his family that remained here on earth. It was comforting to think that Dan hadn’t ceased to exist, but that only his earthly body had been destroyed while Dan’s soul persisted, or perhaps even existed in a more perfect way since it was now reunited with its creator. I have told Yuna pretty much this myself, and always made a point of correcting her whenever she said “Dan is dead” (which she said a lot, at completely random times; I think she knows that it is still very much in the minds of the parents). I would always correct her "no, Dan's body is dead".


But upon further reflection (or “musings”, as my friend Nicole would label them), I find the notion that Dan is currently happy and is in some peaceful and perfect place to be troubling and unsatisfactory. First of all, I have to assume that the soul continues to exist in a state of awareness and consciousness, and is not in some way “hibernating”. Otherwise, in what sense is the soul continuing its existence if it were somehow turned “off”, only to be turned back on at some later time? And if Dan’s soul is aware and conscious currently, I have to hazard a guess that it is NOT currently happy or at peace. On the contrary, I would imagine it to be in a state of sadness or even anger at what’s happened. How can his soul be resting in peace if he sees the sadness that Julia and family are going through, or the fact that he will not be an active part of the life of his young daughter? It is inconceivable to me that a loving father (Dan) can be happy and at peace or anything less than furious and in despair if he is separated from his wife and daughter for the remainder of their earthly lives.

No, I have to reconsider, and respectfully disagree with the proposition offered by the pastor at Dan’s funeral; I will also pray for Dan, that he will find comfort with God and that he will eventually find acceptance and peace (if not “understanding” since I can’t possibly imagine what that looks like). Julia and Audrey need practical help here amongst us, now and on a daily basis as they struggle to adjust their lives and grapple with this sudden and immense vacuum in their lives. But I have to believe that Dan, looking at us from his current place also needs our prayer and that God will comfort him just as we pray that God will comfort Julia and Audrey.

Dan Cho, Rest in Peace

I was on a rare overnight business trip to Syracuse when I got an early morning phone call in my hotel room. When I saw my wife’s name on the caller ID, I figured she was worried I’d oversleep for my 8AM meeting and was calling me to wake me up. She said something had happened to Dan, and while she didn’t know what it was she guessed something bad from the tenor of all the sudden “wall” postings on Dan’s Facebook page. I could tell from her voice that she was on the verge of tears. I told her not to jump to conclusions, and that we should wait to confirm the facts. The postings to Dan and Julia’s Facebook pages were all extremely ominous and I couldn’t help but think that whatever it was that happened, it was surely not good.


I could not get the sinking feeling out of my stomach as I sat in my meetings that day. I was paying cursory attention to the discussion at hand (about medical research equipment for a new laboratory building), but instead scouring the web for news about Dan. I couldn’t bring myself to contact Julia directly, as if her writing it down would ensure their permanence, but rather e-mailed several of Dan’s friends who seemed to know more at this point asking for any information. Soon, they e-mailed me back saying that Dan had apparently died in a swimming accident in Lake Geneva, Switzerland while touring with Regina Spektor.

I had just days before spoken with Dan. Korea had just beaten Nigeria 2-1 to advance to the knockout stage in the World Cup. Dan and I shared a passion for Korean World Cup soccer, and had been trying to get to Koreatown in NYC to watch the games together before he left on his tour. Dan did not make it out due to family commitments (“things are intense at home right now”, he texted), but we exchanged numerous texts during and after the game sharing our joy and our concerns about the team’s performance going forward. I had taken the “Chinatown” bus from Albany to NYC with the sole purpose of watching Korea play, and had been rallying for Dan to join me.

Over the next day or two, the news came out to confirm the facts: Dan had gone swimming in the lake with a friend and had drowned. The e-mails were pouring out to Dan and Julia’s “walls” on Facebook expressing consolation, disbelief, shock on the one hand and love and concern for Julia and their young daughter on the other.

What can I say about Dan? He was a very talented musician. And by that, I don’t mean an aspiring one, but a bona fide musician that has toured with several very well known artists, having appeared on popular TV shows and played in many venues across the US. He was also a passionate and knowledgeable soccer fan, and was in the midst of serving as a blogger covering the Korean World Cup team for ESPN. He was a relatively newlywed husband and proud father of a beautiful daughter. The love in his heart for Audrey showed so plainly on his face whenever he was near her or was talking about her. But most of all, Dan was an incredibly kind and humble person. Despite clearly approaching near-celebrity status with his frequent tours and appearances, he was always deferential and humble when talking about his music.

Fast forward to the wake; it is a blisteringly hot day. My family has driven in from Albany that afternoon after I took the afternoon off work. We had the “talk” with Yuna about how Dan has died and we are going to view his body. This gets into the tricky question of where is Dan now and if his body is here dead, in what form is Dan? I weakly offer that Dan’s soul has gone back to God, but it is not very satisfactory to Yuna.

Dan’s death, along with the birth of my children has made it essential to believe in the eternal life of the soul. After my children were born, I realized that even a lifetime is not enough. The thought of ever being apart from my children was so painful that I had no choice but to believe in eternal life in order to function and enjoy my time here in this life. While this is comforting on some level, it is woefully inadequate when someone like Dan is taken so young, with so much of his life ahead of him and leaving behind a wife and a toddler daughter.

This young family had a lifetime of love and happiness to look forward to, and suddenly without so much as a hastily shouted “fore!” or a glimpse of a blurry object, Dan is taken away while halfway around the world. Julia has commented on how the soccer jerseys that Dan loved to wear still bear his scent, how his daughter would say “appa, appa” (daddy in Korean) and take them out. I still have texts that I exchanged with Dan following the soccer games in my phone. Dan’s blog entries are still just a couple weeks old on ESPN. Yet, everything has changed forever in an unspeakably sad way.

A lifetime later, we will be reunited with Dan and we will cry and laugh and again enjoy his presence, resume our relationships. For now, we are only left with angry and unanswered questions, lives turned upside down and shattered into a million fragments without reason or warning. We can only hope that the future still holds joy and that we can laugh together again. We’ll miss you Dan.

Listening to Car Talk: SL 500 VS $50 a month?

Someone recently called in to the NPR show "Car Talk" complaining of leaking anti freeze coming through their air conditioner/heater in the car. The hosts offered up a diagnosis which involved replacing the parts in question to the tune of several hundred dollars. The caller sounded hesitant and revealed that this was a sum of money they did not have. The hosts of the show recommended a cheaper, interim solution of sealing up the hoses (which would also also mean they have no heat/AC) and also recommended setting aside $50 a month until they have the money to do the full repair.

The next caller was a lady asking for advice on picking a car for her nephew's 16th birthday. She was concerned that her first choice,  a Mini Cooper Type "S" was deemed too girly by the nephew. In choosing her car, she said she had been requested to keep it below $25,000. The hosts suggested the Honda Element. Later in the conversation, the caller revealed the she herself was also about to complete a purchase of her own new vehicle of a Mercedes SL 500, a roughly $100,000 car.

Gifting a car is an extravagant measure by almost any standard, but the stark contrast between these two back to back callers in very different financial circumstances underscored this difference further. One caller could not afford to repair a leaky heating/AC system that was introducing anti-freeze in to the cabin of the car. The other needed advice on selecting a sub $25,000 car for her nephew's 16th birthday. I got the feeling that the second caller, the one who was in the market for two brand new vehicles could have paid for the repairs of the first caller with the money in her wallet. But that is not the point of the show.

In what way does the abundant availability of a resource by one individual/family in any way relate to the dire need for the same resource in another? The hosts of Car Talk did not comment on the two callers. The show is primarily about "cars, car repairs", not a social commentary. Is the progressive tax system an infrastructure to address situations like this? Or should this be the prerogative of the more well to do to give to charities or other mechanisms as they see fit?

Car pooling

Since I started working in Albany last November, I have been carpooling with a coworker of mine who lives in my neighborhood. ‘L’ is in many ways a perfect carpool companion; she does not travel for work, meaning I can count on her for rides; she lives in my neighborhood and is willing to pick me up and drop me off every day; she is not someone I feel I have to engage in conversation the entire ride. I am able to read the New Yorker in peace, or listen to NPR (yes, she even lets me choose the radio station) on my ride in. In turn, I pay a share of the gas fees. However, this seemingly ideal arrangement does come at a small psychological price.


‘L’ is a little older than me (let’s just say she has broken her hip a few years back). This also is reflected in her driving style. She drives at or below the speed limit for the duration of the 12-mile commute. She also prefers to drive in the passing lane of the highway. This inevitably results in some very angry drivers during the morning commuting hour. I am often uncomfortably aware of the antsy cars tailgating us for awhile before blowing by us with an angry glare. I always lean back and shrink down a little so I can avoid meeting their glare.

‘L’ is seemingly completely oblivious to all of this, or maybe she simply doesn’t care. She stares straight ahead, clutching the steering wheel at the textbook recommended 10 and 2 o’clock positions white knuckled, her foot gently spurring on her Honda at the very sensible speed of 60 MPH.

I am often tempted to ask her why she insists on driving in the passing lane since when I get stuck behind an elderly driver trudging along slowly in the passing lane and wish I could pose this question to them. Is it a fear of switching lanes? Certainly this is always an adventure with ‘L’. She glances in the rear view mirror briefly before swerving nervously into the next lane with one jerky motion. Or is it simply an indifference to the road rage of the less patient drivers sharing the road with her, and if she prefers the left (passing, as it turns out) lane then they will simply have to accommodate her? Either way, I don’t wish to jeopardize what is a very convenient commuting arrangement, so my burning question remains unanswered.