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Most people close to me know I’m a die-hard technophobe. In fact, I’m practically Jurassic! To this day I’ve successfully resisted owning any electronic or battery-operated devices viewed as common and indispensable by many people, including alarm clocks, cell phones, and watches. The watch that my friend Brian gave me on my birthday last year still sits in a drawer untouched.

Recently, while reading John Mayer’s Playboy interview, one particularly biting remark (out of many caddish comments) he made about his ex-girlfriends – that describing Jennifer Aniston – jumped out at me. I thought, “Ouch!” and then, “That’s me!”

<<One of the most significant differences between us was that I was tweeting.

There was a rumor that I had been dumped because I was tweeting too much. That wasn't it, but that was a big difference. The brunt of her success came before TMZ and Twitter. I think she's still hoping it goes back to 1998. She saw my involvement in technology as courting distraction. And I always said, "These are the new rules."...>>

Although Aniston’s life and mine are worlds apart and we probably have next to nothing in common, her feeling about her significant other’s level of involvement in technology happened to be exactly the same as mine – “courting distraction.” It also wasn’t lost on me that if I ever date again, my inability to make peace with technology will be one more item on a long list of all the things that would count against me on the “fit-to-date” scale.

Many people are surprised, even shocked... when they realize I’m serious about not owning a cell phone. “How do you survive without one when you have four kids?” is a question I get asked often. I guess my children have less influence on me than they should! They probably see me as impossibly intransigent, hopelessly quaint, and terribly outdated, but they must not have minded my quirkiness all that much because I rarely get complaints about my stubborn refusal to keep a cell phone handy.

Like most of their contemporaries, each of my four kids has his/her own phone. Although they’re not quite as promiscuous about cell phone usage as many kids their age seem to be, they do have an easy relationship with technology and regard the many gadgets they own as their fun and friendly companions. Me, I can’t even elevate them to “necessary evil” status! For a short time, at my sister’s insistence, I'd attempted to carry a cell phone around with me for emergencies. It felt like being married to someone I loathed. Having to remember to charge the phone every day, take it with me where I go, decide whether I should leave it on or silence it… things that quickly become automatic for a lot of people, proved to be too much of a hassle for me. I failed to see the purpose and value of all that work, especially when the intended reward was to obtain the feeling of being plugged in. Unlike most people, I hate that feeling. It actually induces stress in me. I would rather stay unplugged, which is why I still manage to leave blank the secondary phone # on the many forms I’m required to fill out everyday.

One time someone from a delivery service that failed to get a second contact number out of me was so incredulous about my situation that she actually came out and asked (good-naturedly) why I didn’t own a cell phone. My honest answer was that I didn’t want to feel accessible to everyone all the times. “It must be nice,” the person mused, “but you can also choose to turn your phone off or not pick up a call.” I know! But I’d rather preserve what little freedom I still have from what seems to me like a relentless encroachment from the technology monster, even though it might just be an illusion I harbor in this day and age.

As someone who absolutely detests gadgets, I definitely feel bombarded by new inventions seemingly designed to spook me… the dizzying array of hand-held devices that suck time away in a vacuum: cell phones, Blackberries, iPods, iPads, iTouch, and their inane info. stream – Twitter. I’ve already succumbed to facebook, and for me that’s enough! At least, this medium occasionally provides nutritious food-for-thought, unlike Twitter, which invariably churns out junk-food morsels. Like everyone else, I’m not above frittering a good chunk of my time daily on emailing and net activities not related to my work. It amazes me that with all this connectivity, people have any time left at all for real, human interactions. I wonder what it will be like 10, 20 years from now, when my children have children of their own! I wonder how their childrearing would be impacted by the new technology available then, and if everything in their lives would end up being virtual.

The Greatest

Kiet as photographed by Audrey

            Looking out the window at our Pieper Lane home

Once upon a time,

The angels were feelin' good,

So they rendezvoused
In the pimpin' angel hood.

The angels got together,
They let their light shine
And sent down a boy
Who was hella mighty fine.

There goes Kiet,
Remember the name.
Once he passes by,
You'll never be the same.

There he is,
The awesome king of cool
Strutting his stuff
As he makes his way to school.

A model of perfection,
He's simply the best!
When he's around,
You forget about the rest.

There goes Kiet,
Remember the name.
Once he passes by,
You'll never be the same.

But, alas, his fatal error...
He got a big head.
It exploded with a BOOM!
And Kiet wound up dead.

And so the boy named Kiet
Whose real name was Kevin
Had his soul rise
And floated back to heaven.

Here comes Kiet,
Remember the name.
He's just passing by,
Going back the way he came.

Stanza by Kiet; edited by Andrea
March 2010

Annual or Perennial?

My love for all things green didn't evolve until fairly late in life. When I was young, I typically felt disconnected with nature and regarded the pastime of gardening as boring and somewhat beneath me. "Who'd want to lug home soil and bark, push around a shovel, or commune with earthworms on their days off?" I scoffed. Over time, as I've grown in wisdom and patience, I found myself becoming an enthusiastic gardener, though not a capable one... not yet!

I used to think having a green thumb was a gift you're blessed with, not an acquired skill. It was sort of a mystery to me how some people managed to keep their gardens looking good year-round when others couldn't stop brown patches from forming on their lawns. I constantly marveled at my mom's talent to nurture her orchids from tiny pots to glorious showpieces. But lately, as I continued to work and ruminate in my backyard, I slowly realized that skills can be learned, and that there are more than a few parallels between the ability to make plants thrive and that required for keeping human relationships healthy.

It basically involves being sensitive and paying close attention, taking good care of your own, and once your turf is established, making adjustments as needed in way of care and maintenance. Once upon a time, if a plant seemed to be struggling on my watch, my first thought would be, "Uh oh, another dying plant! I still don't know what I'm doing. I wonder if I still have the receipt or it's too late for a return." As hare-brained as it sounds, it just didn't occur to me to try plant food as CPR or vary my watering schedule according to the weather or season. Yellowing leaves did nothing to alert me to the possibility that I might be errant in my approach. As a result, over the years my patio has turned into a showcase for floppy succulents with rotted roots and depressed hibiscus whose buds stubbornly refused to open.

Some plants are shade-loving; others are full-sun varieties that require 6+ hours of direct light each day. One might be ideal for rock gardens whereas another would be better suited in a patio planter... just like your date who's more comfortable in jeans versus another who prefers dressing up. Each plant is similar to a person with their individual needs and wants. You've got to give the one you love the right amount of sunshine for them to thrive... sort of like perfecting the art of staying a few paces behind a partner who mostly enjoys the spotlight on them... or stepping up in order to give cover for one who needs the security of protective shade.

A few plants demand constant watering; others need it only once every so often. You might think it couldn't hurt to set the sprinkler dial on shower everyday, but overwatering will just make your plant feel soaked! In the same way, not paying enough attention to your partner can certainly ruin a relationship, but smothering them with attention could possibly result in your darling feeling trapped and unhappy. It's a delicate dance for many couples, one that requires continued adjustments and negotiations during the different stages of life. And let's not forget the very important concept of spacing... when flowers are planted too close to each other, they often fail to bloom… not unlike the "three's a crowd" scenario in romantic relationships.

Whenever my mom and I shop at our local garden centers, we would often peruse the same section of the nursery and pick out completely different specimens. I invariably zoom in on those with fully-formed blossoms and the most vibrant colors. My mom prefers one with a few open blooms (just enough to give assurance that her plant is healthy), but plenty of buds. When our choices are taken home and planted side by side, mine definitely looks more showy and beautiful... for a little while... before all the petals start to fade and brown at the same time, then my plant would look so sorry next to Mom's, which promises new blooms week after week. My problem is that I still can't resist the thrill of instant satisfaction that often vanishes just as quickly.

Verbena 'Imagination' in my garden

Purple royal trumpet vine

Lantana interspersed with bougainvillea blossoms fallen on the ground

A little over a year ago, my cousin T. and I bought almost identical new homes from the same builder, in the same neighborhood. Since then we've regularly compared notes on our evolving greenscape and mutually kept tabs on each other's plant purchases. T. happens to be like my mom; she considers it her hobby to nurture clearance-aisle bargains into full-fledged beauties. Her husband is more like me... he'd rather pay more for a beautiful, mature plant than its younger counterpart with potential. T told me that after they moved in, her hubby made one single request for their new-home purchases she couldn't refuse – a full-grown tree up to his standards to provide instant shade in their yard. My cousin-in-law hated the idea of getting a smaller tree, because according to him, "By the time you get to enjoy its benefits, it might be time to upgrade or downgrade to another home!"

T. finally gave in and bought a rather expensive, tall and handsome specimen to please her husband – one from our association's approved plant list. Unfortunately, her prized pepper tree died of shock within a few weeks after its transplant. There are no guarantees in life!

In a similar metaphor with regard to human relationships, sometimes you manage to do most everything right, or believe in your heart you did... or at the least, you know you've tried your best! You water your plant regularly, talk to it lovingly almost every day, and carefully position it to obtain the right amount of sunshine. But your plant doesn't want to stay with you past one season. You meant to choose and keep a perennial, but it just so happened that your plant was annual. It's not your fault! Life isn't fair! :( But always remember, you yourself can be someone else's perennial, and bloom where you're planted!

Big Bad Wolfette

Big Bad Musical props, Newport Theatre Arts Center

For the past few months, I've been busy with my landscaping project which required me to work closely with my contractor, Julio, or "J" for short. My communications with J. have mostly centered on the design of my hardscape, but sometimes during our errand runs to purchase materials and supplies, J. would share with me lighthearted vignettes about his family. Even though it was sometimes difficult to get the stories straight with his poor English skills, J. still came across as, at the least, a decent husband and a doting father.

One day when the conversation turned to me and why he hadn't seen a "Mr." around the house, J expressed some amazement about the lack of a leading man in my life and his impression that I appeared to be quite content negotiating life by myself with four kids in tow. In response to his inquisitive remarks, partly because we were hampered by our language barrier – me with my fifth-grade Spanish and him with his severely limited English vocabulary – and partly because I didn't care to reveal more than the minimum required to be polite, I managed a vague summary of my current situation: "Es porque la vida es complicada," which seemed to succeed in placating J's curiosity enough that he didn't try to probe further (at the risk of sounding politically incorrect, I should probably say at this point that J is Hispanic and has a very low privacy threshold for himself, which tends to make him view others in the same way).

My brother D, in a discussion we had recently regarding relationships in general, stated his belief that very few of them are true partnerships... and that he had ceased to be surprised at how often he would encounter couples who held diametrically-opposing views about the state of their union. As often was the case, the reality lay somewhere near the middle, but it wasn't uncommon to hear one person unleash a litany of complaints about their partner and lament the lack of love/understanding/excitement in their life, whereas the other person, either through sheer cluelessness or denial, seemed to have no idea their relationship was on shifting sand.

The general truth of this observation hit home recently as I had occasion to meet J's wife, Rosie, when she brought her daughters to the mall on a play date with mine. As we made small talk about our families, I was struck by my impression that R is still very much smitten with her husband, as though she were a young bride in love.  One can hardly be more content than the way Rosie looked when she shared with me how lucky she was to have found J, a smart and handsome husband, a good father, too... and so romantic... he would bring flowers home almost daily, and would be upset if her room went without fresh blooms!

Since I knew they've been married for more than a decade (J's oldest daughter is 12, the same age as my youngest, Lauren), I was pretty amazed by Rosie's revelations, especially in light of the fact that J was barely scraping by to support his family of four doing manual labor, that a guy in such a situation would still feel determined to fill his wife's life with beauty. Subsequently, while we were out shopping for travertine for my backyard one day, I told J how sweet it was to hear his wife speak of him with such glowing admiration, that it seemed to me she's unabashedly crazy about her hubby. In a sad and disappointed voice, J shared with me that he and Rosie were already "separado" a total of three times in Mexico, and that their marriage is full of strife. :( I was aghast, "Pero no es posible! Rosie said you take good care of the family and give her flowers everyday!" J seemed to be struggling for words to describe his predicament. Finally, he came up with this explanation, which I thought hilarious, but sort of sad at the same time, "I do to her, pero she no do to me", roughly translated: I'm good to her, but she doesn't reciprocate." "She BIG BAD!"... tr: "She's a terrible wife!"

I wonder how many men secretly see their wife as BIG BAD WOLFETTE?!

Natasha & Lauren cavorting as Wolfettes with Matt Yee,

 the Big Bad Wolf