catholic cabinet

My dad, and everyone in his family, is Catholic. There's not much to show for this except one tiny crucifix that was above my parents' bedroom door for a decade or so in the 1980s and 1990s and a little cabinet in the living room with some Catholic trinkets.


The 1989 Loma Prieta earthquake knocked this cabinet over and broke its glass doors in a spectacular fashion, and would have crushed Richard, who was watching the Giants vs. A's World Series pregame nearby, had Richard not run deftly to the backyard first. Lots of things broke in the house. So to protect Jesus,

Jesus is swaddled in foam.

Mary gets an insulation blanket.

The Pope Clock gets no protection. At noon and midnight, this clock plays an electric chime and a recording of John Paul II slowly reciting the Lord's Prayer in English. Even though I know it's going to happen, it startles me and Boo and we walk around the house until we locate the source of the voice.

Also in the cabinet is a letter that Stephanie and I wrote last December. My handwriting is, as always, better than Stephanie's but my Chinese sucks and I can't read half of the words we wrote. We used a dictionary. I bought the chops in China in 2006. Stephanie is Southern Baptist but the letter gets a spot in the Catholic cabinet nonetheless.

Here's my best friend, sleeping with his head under my bed.

And just for the hell of it, here is a picture of an amazing person Navneet and Bernie and I encountered while waiting for a ride on the miniature steam train at Tilden Park in Berkeley a few weeks back. The rest of his amazing family is not pictured.