Public(ity) Transportation Funding

It struck me the other day: when I saw some ad on TV for some monster truck show that was going to playing at Oracle Arena, HP Pavillion and Monster Park, it took me a while to remember they were Oakland Coliseum (Arena), San Jose Arena, and Candlestick Park.

Public institutions selling the naming rights of an event center has become very widespread in the past 10-15 years as a lucrative evenue source.

HP Pavilion was actually the Compaq Center before Compaq got bought out by HP. Shoreline Amphitheatre was at one point known as ‘Shoreline Amphitheatre at Mountain View presented by The [San Francisco] Chronicle.’ The freeway exit sign was just as unwieldy.

Caltrans, as with any public agency, is also strapped for cash. Maybe they should consider getting into the same racket of selling names of interchanges or freeways in a similar fashion, and make some money to pay for fixing potholes, adding loop detectors, installing landscaping and soundwalls, etc.

There are currently portions of freeways named for historic or military figures, or law-enforcement officers who died in the line of duty. In a couple of cases there are sections named after living people, such as Sig Sanchez and Quentin Kopp, both political figures. I guess they keep their fingers crossed that they don’t go around doing anything scandalous for the rest of their life!

(Cupertino was contemplating putting the name of the private citizen donor on a plaque outside the new community center building after he offered to donate $250,000 to the library . . . until they found out he was Chinese. “We don’t know who these people are. When we allow someone to put their name on a public building paid for with taxpayers’ money, how do we know what they’re going to do in the future?” said a Cupertino city council member [Cupertino Courier 4/16/03 and 3/3/04])

Caltrans also has ‘Adopt a Highway’ schemes for local groups to sponsor. One on 101 just south of San Francisco was ‘Robin Williams’. My friend at Cal got his fraternity to sponsor a stretch near University Ave on I-80 in Berkeley. But these are small fry.

Why ‘waste’ a name on a historic figure like James Lick or Chester Nimitz, from whom you can’t get a single red cent, when we could have the Google interchange (Shoreline/101) or NUMMI freeway (880 in Fremont) and tap into their deep, deep pockets. I’m sure Cupertino and Apple could work something out as the iPod interchange at 85/280.

After all, the free publicity these companies would get from all those TV and radio traffic updates mentioning their interchanges would be worth so much; buying air time is not cheap.

(Changing of names over time is a bit of a hassle, but we deal with it. AT&T ParK is the third name for the Giant’s ballpark, even though it’s the same corporate entity that’s sponsored it since the start. Besides, in Santa Clara County, the names of major roads change over place, i.e. Sunnyvale-Saratoga Road, De Anza Blvd and Saratoga-Sunnyvale Road are all on the same straight-line segment. Sheesh. I’ve lived here for almost ten years and I still can’t get the names of these roads straight. )

VTA could do something similar, selling naming rights of the light rail stations for a lower price (since they get much less mention in traffic reports). Besides, most of the current names are geographically meaningless, since they’re named after the obscure cross streets. For instance, you wouldn’t really know where to get off for Montague Expressway along the Guadalupe line by looking at the route map. It’s Orchard station. How many people know where of Orchard Road in San Jose? They could have sold the naming rights to Raza, which occupied a distinctive black monolithic building on the corner of Montague and First.

Likewise Vienna Station and Reamwood Station should have been named West Lawrence and East Lawrence stations respectively. Better yet, VTA could have named Vienna the Casa de Amigos / Plaza Del Rey station and bought themselves some goodwill during the development of the Tasman West light rail through here. Reamwood could have been named Pho Queen station. To their credit VTA didn’t make the same mistakes on the Alun Rock line, all the stations are named after recognizable major streets like Hostetter and McKee.

Not your typical headless chicken

Aida had told me about a store in Santa Clara on El Camino Real next to Su’s Mongolian Barbeque where she bought her eggs. It’s a very non-descript shop, run by an Indian woman that also sells some whole chickens. “They’re free-range, or organic chickens or whatever.” I decided to go check them out, since I needed to make more chicken stock.

The main business is eggs. It calls itself the Egg Store, but the shop sign simply bears the logo of “California Eggs” that date back from the 80’s when eggs got notorious publicity for being high in cholesterol.

Inside the store looks worn out, but it’s got a spartan look about it that makes it appear clean. I took two chickens for $15 (one for $8) from the freezer case. There was also another freezer full of popsicles/paletas. At to the cash register were also bags of homemade fortune cookies for sale!

“Do you need eggs?” asked the proprietress. She was probably surprised that someone came in without buying eggs, when it was the main attraction of the store.

These chickens are not that big. Compared to the fryers you get at the regular supermarkets, with the poultry equivalent of Dolly Parton breasts and ‘Refrigerator’ Perry legs, these chickens are the equivalent of a Paris runway supermodel. There’s almost no fat for me to pull off.

But these chickens come with the feet still attached . . . as well as the head, cockscomb and all. It was a little startling, even for me.

(I wonder if these are hens that laid eggs and then retired, but I thought only roosters had cockscombs on top of their head. I’ll have to ask next time.)

I’m used to handling poultry, having worked at Magnani’s Poultry in Berkeley, where I learned to cut up whole chickens into 11 standard parts in under a minute. Those chickens came dressed (i.e. feathers off), headless and feetless, so they looked just like the Foster Farms chickens you’d find in the supermarket.

Magnani’s also carried ducks, which did come with heads. I remember taking a phone order from someone who ordered a duck. I wrapped one up, bagged it, and she came to pick it up.

20 minutes I took another phone call. “The duck,” the customer said tremulously. “It has a head . . . ”
“Well, yes. ”
“Uh . . uh . . I can’t really deal with it.”
“Would like you us to cut it off for you? You can bring it back.”
“Oh yes!”

She sent her son back with duck. I chopped it off, and kept it for making stock at home.
At least the ducks’ eyes were closed. This chicken I bought, the eyes were open. like those of fish you see in Chinese markets. It’s funny, but I found the chicken eyes open a little scary; since I’m not used to it. But I have no problems with the fish, since it’s so common.

As I write this, one of these chickens I bought has been cut up into 14 parts (3 more than standard, with the head and two feet.) The breast, legs and wings are being simmered for 1-2 hours for soy-sauce chicken stew, because I think the meat of an older chicken might be a little chewy. My mom cooked this a lot when I was a kid. I used to make it once in a while in college, but I haven’t made it for a long time.

The claws and head and back are simmering away in the stockpot.

Today, we all consume eat meat that has been processed and packaged in sanitary-looking, plastic-wrapped styrofoam trays; we’ve completely lost the sense that what we eat comes from animals that once had lives, since we only see it as a symmetrical chunk of foodmass, like a tub of tofu, a bar of chocolate, a deck of cards.

I know of individuals who do not eat chicken if it has bones; or who are put off by seeing the fish head still attached as when it’s ordered in a Chinese restaurant. I had a Japanese acquaintance who would always avert her eyes when walking past windows with rows of hanging roast ducks in Chinatown. My best friend in high school would eat fried calamari in Italian restaurants, but not the tentacles.

Most people are squeamish about seeing the head of whatever animal they eat, i.e. fish or fowl, because it’s an eerie and awkward reminder it was formerly a living being. But once in a while, it’s good to be reminded of these things, of heads and beaks, feet and webs, gills and cheeks.

UPDATE: I tried a bit of the cockscomb. It’s rather fatty and chewy, like boneless chicken feet!

Odds and Ends

Beckham to LA: Wow. Now I’m even more sad that the Earthquakes moved to Houston. Whats’ going to happen to Donovan? Zidane- or Kurigashira- head butts of love? (The latter is a Dr. Slump thing.)

Dr. Slump Vol. 11 : came out after X’mas. Alas, the next volume will be released in May! I have to wait 4 months instead of 2!
But this volume had a hilarious, roll-on-the-floor-and-die laughing spoof on the chick-manga genre, featuring a ballet school. “Dr. Slump Elegant Special The Red Sandals.” Senbebe vs. Suppette!

Current chick-lit is a johnny-come-lately compared to the Japanese chick-manga that was around when I was in kindergarten!

Old Friends: My colleague gave me a very sage suggestion. He doesn’t send Christmas cards. He calls people up . . . on the phone.

I have to admit, nothing really beats warm-and-fuzziness of live conversation, the back-and-forth exchange of talking. So I’m slowly going through the list and called people I don’t usually see because they live far away. or I don’t see them because they live close by, so we could see them any time, which means never.

Guys and Gossip: I called up my cousin Biker not just because of the above, but I actually had a question for him. One of those curiosity-got-your-goat things.

My colleague and I had a discussion about how gals gossip, but guys don’t gossip. My theory is that that’s a stereotype. I think guys like to gossip as much as gals (it’s human nature.) Guys don’t like to appear like they’re into gossip; and when they’re with other guys, they’ll talk about manly things, like sports. Or business. But guys who are talking to girls will dish just as much (since they don’t have a ‘manly’ facade to maintain.)

If you think about it, what celebrity gossip is to women, is what sports is to men. Trump and O’Donnell’s feuding in the media? How’s that different from Kobe and Shaq? Or the HP board vs. Carly F? Keeping tabs on the men Angeline Jolie has slept with; isn’t that analagous to tracking batting averages for one’s fantasy baseball team, or the performance of one’s investment portfolio? I rest my case.

In any case, my example in refuting this theory is that most of my guy cousins were interested in the gossip of my high school, even as they all went to high schools (1) that were co-ed, and (2) located miles away. So they were interested in stories about people whom they’d only seen in my yearbooks, and would never get to meet in person.

So I asked Biker. “Well, I was primarily interested in the your girl friends who were pretty.”
I have yet to ask Patryk or Hottoes why they were interested the people in my high school.

Readers, what do you think?

Lagniappe 2006

This year we had two versions, one that’s regular (dirty) and one that’s acceptable for kids (clean). We couldn’t fit in any Piazzolla. Have fun trying to figure out which songs were Joe’s picks!

1: Pop Star – KEN HIRAI Kira kira no pop star / Sparkling sparkling pop star. The video is hilarious (it’s on YouTube)! From Celia’s trip to Japan for a wedding.

2: You Bring Out the Vietnamese in Me – BAO PHI Buy his CD ‘Refugeography’ online at www.baophi.com

3: Promiscuous – NELLY FURTADO This year’s catchy hook song! Artist grew up in Victoria, BC like NBA MVP referenced. There’s also a version I heard on FM 105.7 La Calle where Timbaland is replaced by someone else talking in Spanish.

4: Luz Azul (Blue light) – ATERCIOPELADOS Not a Kmart special. Like Shakira, a Columbian female rocker! We saw this duo in concert this year.

5: Me and Shirley T – JAKE SHIMABUKURO Bought all his CDs on a lark at Tower Record’s (RIP) going-out-of-business sale. They’re all good.

6: Yeah (Bhangra Remix) – USHER Only “western” song heard at an Indian wedding. Chinese weddings have better food; Indian weddings have better music.

7: Jammin’ – ELIANE ELIAS She’s got piano AND vocal chops. Saw her in concert this year.

8: Mad World – MICHAEL ANDREWS & GARY JULES Old school: Tears for Fears. New school: Xbox 360 Gears of War

9: Lascia la spina, cogli la rosa – CECILIA BARTOLI Can you believe that music was once banned by a Pope, for fears of moral corruption?

10: Peaches – PRESIDENTS OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA Lyrical content can be an overrated thing.

11: Alison – ELVIS COSTELLO We went to his concert sans The Attractions but with the SF Symphony instead.

12: Blue Caravan – VIENNA TENG The Cisco Software Engineer formerly known as Cynthia Shih.

13: Rock Me Amadeus – FALCO Celia’s Falco cassette tape was stolen when her car was broken into when she was in college. Finally replaced it with a CD.

14: Sexy Naughty Bitchy – TATA YOUNG Thailand’s Britney Spears. She went to the same school Celia went to in Bangkok, albeit many years later. This song is not on the ‘clean’ version of Lagniappe. Although there was a version released in Malaysia titled “Sexy, Naughty, Cheeky

14: It’s Tricky – RUN DMC. Our high-school soundtrack of old-school rap sounds so . . . tame. This song is not on the ‘dirty’ version of Lagniappe.

15: Suddenly I See – KT TUNSTALL Like the Thai Britney Spears, she’s also hapa. Saw her at KFOG Kaboom concert this year.

16: Shanghai Bund theme song – FRANCES YIP Soundtrack of Bangkok’s Chinese restaurants in the 80’s.

17: Galang – MIA Part of Honda’s ad campaign to add fun back to the Civic

18: Date Rape – SUBLIME Better named as (Anti) Date Rape. This song is not on the ‘clean’ version of Lagniappe.

19: White and Nerdy – WEIRD AL YANKOVICH Originally had Chamillionaire’s “Ridin'” on the list as a prelude to next song, but this song proved to be too funny.

20: Uncle Tom’s Dead – GUY DAVIS. Buy his CD “Legacy” if you want the PG-13 version of the song. Buy his CD “Skunkmello” if you want the ‘Milk and Cookies” version.

Happy New Year

We got back from our annual Christmas trip to Southern Cal safe and sound. As usual it was an exercise in excess: eating too much meaty Toishan meals, and home-baked cookies; visiting not one, not two, but three ‘amusement parks’: Sea World, Legoland and Wild Animal Park; and watching college blow-out games (UCLA vs Michigan basketball, Cal vs. Texas A&M in the Holiday Bowl.)

In all, much to be thankful for. We got to spend quality time with our nephew and niece, whom we hadn’t seen since last Christmas. Right now, they still think we’re the heppest cats around, but pretty soon they’ll become tweens and find us square. I dread that day when Kaylie and Riley don’t want to chase paper airplanes or play soccer anymore.

The Holidy Bowl was sweet revenge on the Lone Star State, from last time when Cal was trounced by Texas. It’s funny to imagine that I almost went to A&M for grad school. (Shudder.)

The Selfishness of Baked Goods: Joe’s mom and sister always bake up a storm, nay a tempest, of various cookies at Christmas. Everyone would get two mooncake tins’ worth of almond sandies, toffee saltines, white chocolate peanute crispies. etc. (Usually we don’t finish them until Forth of July). Several years ago, I made mashuga nuts for them, based on my Minnesota grandmother’s recipe. They all liked it and asked for the recipe, which I obliged. They they added to their repertoire; which was good, because I got to eat it, without having to make it myself.

The bad thing was now I had nothing to make, since one of them would make enough for the whole family. Which was not such a bad thing, since I usually didn’t have time to bake anything, all my Decembers consumed with cards and lagniappe CDs.

This year, I was shopping at the Milk Pail Market after Thanksgiving and came across almond paste. I bought a chunk, not knowing exactly what I’d make with it. It was simply an urge, that I would and could create something edible with it, and that with the Internet I could find a recipe.
It turned out to be Almond-Apricot Shortbread bars. I guinea-pigged them on my Chung relatives and co-workers. I then made another batch, but used rasberry instead of apricot and took them down to my Southern Cal family.

“They’re good,” Joe’s sister pronounced. “Can I have the recipe?”
“No! Otherwise I’ll have nothing to make for the family in the future, just like I lost the mashuga nut recipe to you and Mom.”
“Please, please, please. I promise I’ll only make them for my friends, not family.”
Nope. Well, now I’m on the hook to bake them every year. . .