Blog

Short blog posts, journal entries, and random thoughts. Topics include a mix of personal and the world at large.

Already great and wonderful

My aunt and uncle are moving to a new apartment soon. For the first time in nearly three decades, they will have a proper living room (proper, as the British like to say). And a living room deserves the single best furniture in a home that isn’t the bed: a super comfortable couch.

Is there a better feeling than plopping down on a couch after a long day at work? I don’t think so. Even in this tiny studio apartment of mine, I bought a chaise lounger because the relaxation of laying down is that important to me. As much as I prefer the Japanese aesthetic of limited furniture and floor-based seating, the West got it correct: a large couch is where it is at.

This sort of comfort used to be the domain of kings and aristocracy. Nowadays, any common man can afford a couch with bit of saving. Perhaps it’s incorrect to compare timelines this far apart, but truly, the middle class of today live a life better than monarchs of old. Emperors of China wouldn’t even be able to comprehend luxuries like flushing toilets, and on-demand hot water. He did have a comfy dragon throne to sit on, though…

I think these sort of comparisons are an important exercise to keep us in perspective. Sure it may be worthwhile to keep chasing the better next, but what we already have - the most basic of modern living standards like regularly scheduled garbage disposal - is pretty great and wonderful.

It's up to me now

My dad is scheduled to retire after the end of this year. A well-deserved long rest after over four decades of toil. And I do mean toil: working in construction back in China, and then laboring in a warehouse here in the States, before ending up back in construction. It was non-stop, with scant vacations. Dad’s ceaseless work sustained our family through some tough monetary times. My current life would not be possible without his dedication to the family.

Now that he is retiring, it is time for me to return the favor. That’s the rule in Chinese culture: you must be filial to the parents. After my dad stops working, his only income will be from Social Security. There isn’t a grand retirement account to draw money from. Remember: our family was near the poverty line for a long time. Back then, the money coming in went straight to supporting a family of four. It was always going to be relying solely on Social Security after retirement - for dad and my mom.

Obviously, the monthly Social Security check is going to be far less than the paycheck my dad is getting from his job. That means the current lifestyle supported by that salary will either need supplementation, or hugely adjusted down. The day-to-day fixed costs - such as food and rent - can be covered by the Social Security check. Where I come in to supplement is during outings and special occasions. It’s up to me to pay for the that restaurant bill. Same with plane tickets and accommodations when traveling as a family. Need a new vacuum cleaner? That’s going to be me as well.

Good news: I have a brother to split the load! My parents sure are smart to have two offsprings to support them in their latter decades. Half-joking aside, I dutifully relish the opportunity to give back to my parents. It’s the least I can do, a just reward for a life sacrificed for the kids.

Year of the rabbit

A happy Lunar New Year to those who are celebrating. I had a wonderful dinner this past Saturday with my immediately family, hot pot style. I don’t always go back to my parents’ house for dinner, but when I do, it’s the traditional year-end dinner on the night before Lunar New Year. The dinner symbolizes togetherness, a renewal of familial bonds. It’s practically the Asian version of American Thanksgiving. It’s that important and special.

Of course, there’s money in those little red envelopes for the kids. Imagine getting money from your parents for Thanksgiving? Oh wait, that’s called Christmas.

Unfortunately, the holiday spirit was dampened tremendously on the day of Lunar New Year. Horrific news out of Monterey Park - a predominantly Asian enclave in Southern California - of a mass shooting with 10 people dead. A 72-year old Asian male opened fire into a dance hall Saturday evening, just as folks are gathering to celebrate the incoming new year. That male is now dead, having shot himself after a standoff with police on Sunday.

The sadness and anxiety is through the roof for Asian Americans. We can’t feel safe anywhere. Since the pandemic started we’ve witness massive uptick in armed robbery, elder abuse, and home invasions against the Asian community. With this latest incident, it seems we cannot feel secure even in our community centers, from our own people.

I have latent anxiety for my mom who goes to Chinatown every single week. Nothing has happen thus far, thank god (and knock on wood), but I never feel truly safe about it. There’s no reason that Asian Americans - or any American - have to live like this. What a sad state of affairs.

Lucrative panhandling

One thing I’ve noticed driving around the neighborhood is there’s a family that panhandles at a major intersection. Two adults, a younger child, and an actual baby. The family members stake out at the center median. When traffic comes to a halt for a red light, they descend upon the nearby vehicles to ask for spare cash. I almost never carry cash with me, but the panhandlers have a solution for that: a QR code you can scan for Venmo or Cash App. They can certainly afford a mobile phone and requisite data plan!

It must be good business to ask for money at that spot, because I see that family there every Friday after work - the first time every week that I have to actually drive. I mean, if it weren’t lucrative to panhandle there, they wouldn’t be there for long! They would have moved to a different location where the drivers aren’t as stingy and selfish. But no; that family is there week after week. I can only conclude that I live around charitable folks with high empathy.

Business is so good that I’ve started to see other families go to that same intersection to panhandle! I guess the word has spread throughout the beggar subreddits. The corner of Junipero Sera and 19th Avenue is the place to be to collect some serious change. Write a proper sob story on a large piece of poster board, and watch the cash roll in. And because we rarely see the sun on our side of the city, the risk of sunburn is far lower than say, downtown San Francisco.

None of this is to demean the panhandlers. I’m not hating the player, nor am I hating the game. Never come between a person and their livelihood, however they’re getting it (so long as it’s legally, I guess). I’m merely making the observation, is all.

Immigrant dad

On a visit back home to my parents’ place, I noticed my father’s coffee mug has a large piece of gaffer tape at the bottom. I thought to myself: that it’s obviously broken! Why not buy another one? Then I realize my parents have that mentality that they won’t replace an item unless it’s absolutely broken. It’s that working-class, immigrant Chinese mentality. They wouldn’t dare to spend extravagantly on themselves, even if it’s just 20 bucks on a new coffee mug.

All (what little) of that disposable income go towards the children, and the future. Even if said children is fully grown (that’s me!) and the monthly paycheck isn’t so tight anymore.

So I had to step in. I went straight Amazon to buy a Yeti-branded coffee tumbler. The same one I’ve been happily using for well over a year. No more generic mugs from some random store in Chinatown for my father. He was so excited (in the Chinese immigrant dad sort of way, which is to say, not overtly) when I gave the Yeti to him. He immediately went to clean off the product labels, give it a solid scrub, then make a cup of coffee.

Finally. A proper mug.

A week later, my mom mentioned to me that father was very impressed with how long the Yeti tumbler kept the coffee hot. He’s really enjoying his cup of morning coffee these days. It wasn’t lost on me that it was mom who told me this, instead of father directly having a conversation with me. Some things don’t change! That’s fine, though: it makes me happy to be able to buy him something he wouldn’t have otherwise. A mere $30 dollar mug can do so much.

The cold winter days

It’s been seasonably cold lately here in San Francisco, which is a stark change from the past few years where our winters have been relatively warm and very dry. It’s so cold that even my Asian mom have consented to the use of the central heating, though of course we set the temperature at just enough to be comfortable with two layers on. The dream of walking around with t-shirts and shorts during the winter months will remain a fantasy until I move out of the house.

If I can afford to move out of the house.

The severely unaffordable Bay Area housing market have ceased to be a point of anguish for me, and now I have this content resignation of my current situation of living at home (being Asian is awesome). It isn’t so bad at all: I get to hang out with my parents while helping them out around the house, and furthermore, I’m not spending half my income simply to house myself. Our parents are only as young as they are today - as we all are - so time spent with them is super important and never a “waste”, no matter what society dictates as the stage of life I’m suppose to in given my age.

The people that reflect on life and wish they’d spent more time with their parents? I don’t think I’ll have that problem. If anything, I’m front-loading the majority of it, instead of circling back to it many years later after I’ve established my own family. Besides, in Chinese culture you don’t abandon your parents under any circumstances: my aunt is still taking care of my grandparents to this day, even though she herself have already become a grandmother. The family unit is strong in Chinese culture because we stick together and help each other out.

That’s the story I’m telling myself anyways. I don’t pretend to not want to move out at all: I think the challenge of independence is something worth doing and a necessary learning experience. But the crisis in San Francisco is what it is, so I’ve stop lamenting the impossible housing problem and instead focusing on spending quality time with my family while the opportunity is still here. Hard to say what’s going happen a few years down the road, but focusing on the future isn’t helpful anyways.

It still amazes me I can shoot pictures like this handheld with a phone.

San Francisco is kicking me out

There’s been a lot of chatter lately about how San Francisco is a hell-scape for the poor and middle class, and that thanks to the tech boom and concurrent chronic lack of housing, the city have turned into a province for the rich only, in a Monte Carlo sort of way. While it can’t rival the tax-friendliness of the Principality - in fact it’s the precise exact opposite - I’ve been viewing my hometown as a facsimile of Monaco for a quite bit now, and it’s low-key weighing on me these days.

Indeed you need at least a six-figure salary to even entertain the notion of building a life in San Francisco. On my daily commute I’m reminded of this when I see adverts for newly online condos, with the basest of units costs more per month than my entire take-home pay. On a macro level I am making slightly more than the median U.S. household income (and I consider myself lucky to be in a position to do so), but put that in perspective of the insane SF housing market, I’m downright in relative poverty.

As I transition into my thirties and having thoughts of marriage and family starting, I am coming hard to face with the reality that I cannot do those things in the city I grew up in - and love. Unless I marry someone who earns well into the six-figures, even with dual income it’d be supremely difficult to rent an appropriate amount of rooms to raise a family, much less outright purchasing a house. Even if somehow I manage to scrounge up large enough of a down-payment to mitigate somewhat the monthly outlay, the hefty California property tax alone renders it prohibitive.

Of course, there’s legions of people in a similar position who instead bought property way out in the inland suburbs, and every day they have to endure a two-hour commute slog just to get back into San Francisco proper for work. That’s not an option for me because I believe the stress and anguish that comes from a long commute is not conducive to good health, and no house is worth the tradeoff for that. If I were to move out of the city, I’d rather take the full plunge and skip out of California entirely.

A friend of mine shared an article that listed what $200,000 worth of home looks like in each of the 50 States, and no surprise the worst of them all in terms of amount of space for the money is California. On the other end of the spectrum, in States such as Montana and the Dakotas, 200 grand can buy you multiple rooms and multiple baths in a house with sizable yards front and back. We joked that San Francisco natives like us who aren’t fortunate enough to collect on the tech prosperity should look to move to those places. We wouldn’t even need to earn as much money as we do now because the cost of living is drastically cheaper.

Besides, I am confident that as long as I have an Internet connection, I can generate income however which way.

So that is something to seriously think about in the next few years; if San Francisco maintains its current trajectory, it just may force my hand. I still have hope it wouldn’t, but recently it’s been tough to find the optimism.