Fireworks and Ravioli

Fireworks and Ravioli

Noel Laflin

7-4-19

When I was eleven years old our Boy Scout troop decided to operate a fireworks stand in order to raise funds.

We were given tickets to sell to friends and neighbors - each ticket was sold for a dollar, which they could then bring to the stand and apply to whatever kit they were going to buy.

I was doing alright with my sales when one neighbor said they wanted to buy the biggest box they could. It cost a hundred dollars.

Now, I could have sold them one ticket which they would have brought with them to apply to the big box in mind and then pay the additional ninety nine dollars at the actual time of purchase.  But I wanted to lock down their intentions, especially since they said they were willing to pay for the entire box up front.  So, I sat at their kitchen table, as they fed me homemade ravioli and lemonade, and filled out one hundred tickets. It took an hour, what with all the eating and childish hand-cramping effort to fill out those individual tickets. I remember a lot of laughter in that home too.

I left their house smiling, full, and had a hundred dollar bill in my pocket to boot.

Turns out we got to keep ten percent of all we sold, so I not only had a fine lunch, I made ten dollars in the process.

As an adult I would make a career of selling for the next forty years and can still recall some memorable sales calls.

But none of them ever came with an invite to come sit down at the kitchen table, laugh, be made to feel like part of the family, and be given the best homemade ravioli of my life.

Monks and Ghost

Monks and Ghost

Noel Laflin

7-10-19

Our tour guide, Kim, is a Korean national who taught himself Mandarin at an early age. Thus, he leads Taiwanese tours here; he has been doing so for eight years now.

He’s very funny. He told us about the time that one group of tourists went out drinking the first night and he had a call from the police to come collect them all after a barroom brawl at four in the morning. They all threatened to sue one another but instead became fast friends by the end of the trip.

Another tour group was composed of gangsters, who swore around the clock. Kim was doing likewise by the end of that trip too. The gangsters all liked Kim so much that they have returned over the years.

But the best story involved an entire busload of monks. One night two monks woke him up complaining about the ghost in their room. As Kim spoke Korean, and they did not, the monks felt that the ghost would listen to him if he asked it to leave.

Kim just switched rooms with them instead.

I love stories in any language, especially if I have David and his sister provide the translation.

Shirts

Shirts

Noel Laflin

7-11-19

Patty’s funeral is this Friday, but we are seven thousand miles away.

And as much as it pains David and me to not be there, we will honor the day by wearing pink and Hawaiian shirts here, even though we will be so very far from our gathered friends back home. Patty loved the color pink and her beloved husband - our old friend, Mark - loved wearing Hawaiian shirts.

But when I return, I will visit her grave, and Mark’s, often, as the cemetery is just on the other side of Santiago Creek, at the western end of Irvine Park. I spend a lot of time in that park, hiking its hills, absorbing its history - step by step - and photographing its birds, trees and wildflowers. As it is less than four miles from our home, it is another home of sorts.

So although I cannot say farewell to our young friend on Friday, I intend to say hello to Patty, and Mark, many times in the future.