I can remember the first time I was told to lead a kung fu class.  It should have been a piece of cake, of course.  I mean, I had been in the club for a very long time—several years.  I could not begin to count the number of classes I had attended.  I knew the order of the exercises.  I had counted out the push-ups in Chinese hundreds of times, although why we should count in Chinese is beyond me, but hey—it’s a tradition, and tradition ought to count for something. So when my older kung fu brother looked at me and told me to lead the class, I should have been fine with it.  But I wasn’t. ...

A couple of years ago, I found myself driving to Bakersfield to see my mother. She was in a convalescent center. She had fallen the Sunday before and broken her pelvis. Now she was in a bed in a nursing center in Bakersfield, flat on her back. Now my mother could be difficult at the best of times. I was not looking forward to this visit. I knew I would have to really have to sell the physical therapy to her. She would not be cooperative with the therapists, I knew. I also knew I would have to face the woman who lived with her and helped her out in exchange for free rent. Twice, I caught this person...

Johannes Brahms was once invited to dinner by a noted wine connoisseur. In the composer’s honor, the man opened one of his finest bottles. “This,” he announced to his assorted guests, “is the Brahms of my cellar.” Brahms nodded, carefully examining the wine – inhaling its bouquet, swirling it in his glass, and holding it up to the light – before setting it down without further comment. “How do you like it?” the host asked with anticipation. “Well,” Brahms replied, “better bring out your Beethoven.” I love a good wine....

I went to a quinceaniera on recently for a former student. In the Méxican tradition, when a girl turns fifteen, parents hold a quinceaniera, from the Spanish word for fifteen, quince. The tradition actually goes back to the Aztec culture, in which it was considered that young men and women became adults at that age. I guess having a life span of about thirty years makes you grow up fast. This was a quinceaniera for one of my former students. The ceremony is a coming out of sorts. In the past, it was used as a “coming out” for young women, to make known to the men of the community that the...

Peace be with you. In Arabic, it is Salaam Alaykum. In Hebrew, it is Shalom Aleichem. It is traditional in those cultures to greet one another with a sign of peace, these words, followed by a handshake, an embrace, or even a kiss. Many people in the Middle East greet one another with those words as a way of saying “hello”. In Turkey, the abbreviation “slm” is commonly used on Facebook. Peace be with you. How ironic it is that such would be the greeting in the very part of the world that seems to suffer so much conflict. You look at countries like Iran, Iraq, Israel, Palestine, and Afghanistan,...

In May of 1941, Father Maxmilian Kolbe, a Roman Catholic Priest, one of the leaders in his town of Niepokalanow, was arrested by the Gestapo. He was beaten, and sent to the now infamous concentration camp at Aushwitz to work at hard labor. There, he was frequently beaten. Contrary to popular opinion, the Nazis had no great love for Catholics, or for priests. Life was hard. One survivor wrote, “Life in the concentration camp was inhumane. One could not trust anyone because there were spies, even amongst the prisoners. All of us were selfish at heart. With so many being assassinated all around,...

Today, there will be no place to park at church. It will be standing room only. I will have a seat because I play the guitar for the choir, but Becky will end up smushed in a pew next to a well-dressed young uncomfortable woman, looking uncomfortable, only there with her young family to make her mother happy who is sitting just on the other side of her, next to her granddaughter in the lovely yellow Easter dress and brand new shiny white shoes. She will squirm and fidget during the entire mass, looking to her mother for some glimmer of hope that the torment is going to end soon. The young father...

One night, when I was about 13 years old, I was sitting in the living room playing the guitar. My parents were drunk again, as was usual. They had a fondness for vodka. They used to get it on credit from the little market a block away from our little mountain cabin up in Wrightwood, California. The mountains are not a good place for alcoholics. There isn’t really anything much to do except for to sit around and drink, especially at night. Back in those days, there was no cable television and you could only pick up one channel up in the mountains, a local channel out of San Bernadino. My mom was...

I used to run marathons. That seems impossible to believe looking at me now, but it’s true. I’ve run the Los Angeles Marathon six times. Many people understand running a marathon once. After all, it’s an impressive thing to accomplish. 26.2 miles is a long way to run. It’s the point two that kills you, let me tell ya. It takes a good six months to train for a marathon. You have to run six days a week. Each week, you run a little farther. Every Saturday, you take your long run. In the beginning, that could be as short as five miles, but eventually, it becomes the full twenty-six. During...

March Madness is in full force. I, of course, am a basketball fan. My wife, Becky, taught me all I know about basketball, and I am eternally grateful. I love watching a good game, and there is nothing quite like college ball. Every sporting event you see on TV, somebody is always up there is that stands waving a sign that says “John 3-16” I always used to wonder what that meant, but was always too lazy to actually look up the verse in the bible. But one day, I did. And I found that the verse was that famous verse you hear all the time about God so loving the world that He gave His only begotten...