My mother

My mother, me and my father

For those that knew her, they loved her. For those that she raised, you knew she could be brutally honest, and you loved her.

Clemencia Martinez was born on August 24, 1940 in Mexico. She moved with her family to the United States and settled in Northern California.

According to my father – when I asked him for a paper I was writing in high school – they met on a field near the house they raised my family. They ran off to the Nevada Stateline to get married on November 4, 1960. They married again, this time inside the Catholic Church, on January 28, 1961. They would have their first child seven months later.

On April 3, 2009, my family lost our matriarch.

My relationship with my parents is different from the rest of my family in my opinion. I was the youngest for starters. I was a male. And the difference in age between me and my next sibling was quite substantial meaning she didn’t have a bunch of children around the same age.

The stories I hear about growing up are far different than mine. My older sisters used to tell “The Pancake Story” when talking about how my mom raised them. I do know how painfully honest she could be, especially upset.

My mother always made a good impression. For those that met her, they would always enjoy talking with her, despite not speaking English well. My mother could communicate enough to be understood.

She died with family in Mexico. My parents were going around seeing family. From what has been told to me, this day, my mother hadn’t been feeling well, which may have been a continuing thing. For those that don’t know, my mother suffered from diabetes. It’s too early to tell what the cause of death is. She was complaining of chest pains and told my father, “I’m not going to make it.” She went to lie down and passed away before medical help could arrive.

I look back at the last time I talked to her. It was a few weeks back while she was in Mexico. We were able to communicate through the Internet. She asked me the same things she always asked: How I was doing? How the weather is? How work was? Usually when I talked to her she would give me a prayer saying “May God help and take care of you.”

I was at the movies, watching “I Love You, Man” when I got the call from one of my sisters. My phone was on silent but I heard the vibration of the voice mail. She called again and at that point I knew something was wrong. I walk out and called. I knew by the way she is talking what happened even before she said it.

Stunned and numb I walked back into the theater. I welled up, but didn’t cry. The movie was funny but at the same time I just kept going back to my thoughts. The movie, in a way, froze me at a point in time. Once the credits rolled, I began to cry. I came home and broke down.

I think about all things before and everything after that she will not be there for. At my friend’s wedding, I saw him dance with him mom and thought about my mom and how much I wanted that moment.

However, there are more important things. When I got home, my family was all online talking to each other through instant messages in a conference trying to figure out what to do next.

For the rest of the night I’ve walked around feeling hollow. No matter what you think or do, you just know something is gone.

I feel fortunate to have such a wonderful mother. As I go to sleep in a little bit, I have the second gift given to me the day I was born. It’s a stuffed toy that looks like a bear appears to be put together with just fabric and filling that I’ve kept ever since. It reminds me of her.

The first gift given to me that day is life. My mother gave me that.

The (approximately) $3,000 gamble

This was my first thought after watching President Barack Obama land at Long Beach Airport: Air Force One is a big-ass plane.

… I often wonder if I do enough charitable things. Everyone says I’m a nice person but from what I learned in college, nice isn’t really that great of a description. It’s more a bland depiction of a person that you can’t really come up for a better word to describe them; a catch all.

However, that is beside the point of my first statement.

I never really thought I do enough things for organizations. I always felt I could do more, but when push came to shove, I folded for the most part.

So, when I had the chance to do something, I did push back. I got up early one Friday morning and drove to the Central Valley and volunteered at a golf tournament that was raising money for the school where my niece and nephew (and in a few years another niece) attend.

My job was to sell raffle tickets with my nephew and his friend at the sixth hole. I had so many fears with the main one being would I be able to control two kindergarteners? It turned out there was no need to worry. They were well behaved and we were able to sell about $170 in raffle tickets.

It was a fun trip away from Southern California. It was also felt good to do something that will help others in the long run. It’s about time I did something.

… After two weeks, my apartment is still not done. Now we have: mini-blinds; a new floor and toilet in my bathroom; a new stove, sink, lights and new floor in the kitchen; and have all of the rooms painted except for the bedrooms which we are passing on.

What still needs to be done? My roommate’s bathroom needs: a shower wall, medicine cabinet, mirror and to be painted. My bathroom needs: a new shower door and to be painted. After that, I think we’ll be done.

The contractors are still taking their time, however. My friend asked me how long it would take expecting me to answer “Two weeks,” a la the movie “The Money Pit.” For those that have not seen the movie, it is the usual answer given by the contractor rebuilding their house. At this pace that might actually happen.

… My parents have been in Mexico for a while and will return in more than a week. They are traveling with one of my sisters.

While I was online, I noticed she logged in which kind of shocked me since she isn’t one of the most tech savvy members of the family.

She then messaged me and told me our parents were doing well. She then asked if I had a webcam on my computer.

After a few technical glitches, I was able to see family and they were able to see me. One by one, they walked in front of the computer in Mexico and we talked for a bit.

I may have talked to one or two of them on the phone over the years but this was the first time I was able to see them. Afterwards, I wished the economy wasn’t so bad and felt more secure at work to have taken to trip with them. Hopefully things will get better and maybe I’ll be able to make the next one.

… This past Friday was decision day for either taking the transfer or the buyout and become laid off. After thinking about what was important and weighing in what I know is going to happen, I decided to stay employed.

Staying does not come without its own set of problems. My commute does increase anywhere from five to 20 minutes on the way there. I do lose an extra $10 a night since there is no night side differential. There is a lack of food options around the new office. And, I know unofficially in the near future there will be a pay cut anywhere from seven to 10 percent.

The only good thing is May is a three paycheck month.

If I took the buyout I would be looking at the usual payout of time worked, vacation time at about three weeks and somewhere between three to four weeks of severance pay. The severance pay I anticipated being worth about $3,000 after taxes.

When making the choice to stay I remember the promise I always made myself, I would never be unemployed again as long I could help it. As much as I didn’t want to go, I had to.

However, I do have my resume done with the big help of a family friend and have been applying for jobs. I’m fortunate that I do have connections to help me along the way.

I was told that once I had everything together, it should take a few weeks to find work, and that weighed on me and on my decision making. The transfer would take place around that time. It was a chance to get a bonus, so to speak, and maybe have a week off before I started my new job. However, I couldn’t risk it, thus I lost my chance at the “bonus.”

In a way, if I am wrong and should have taken the buyout, I’d have to work at least one week at the new office so I would look like a complete jackass. I’d still look like a jackass, just not a complete one.

Again, thanks to a good connection, I have someone willing to help me and discuss my options, if any. I hope there are.

He told me to call back on Wednesday or Thursday, the first two days of April.

Alone again, naturally

In the song “Should I stay or should I go” by the Clash, I think the choice is clear. He should go since there is a line saying “If I go there will be trouble/And if I stay it will be double.” If you look at it in the form of a math statement it would look like this: T<2t.>

… For the past two weeks I’ve had the apartment to myself as my roommate went out of town. I looked at the time as an experiment. With me looking for an apartment, I wondered what life would be like without a roommate.

I’ve never really had a place on my own. So I wanted to see what I would do with free range. For example, would I watch television more?

Well the first night I was fell asleep in front of the television. However, it was the last time I did that. My television viewing did not go up which means, I really don’t need to buy one when I move. I think I’ve defeated the constant need for television viewing I had developed when I was younger. Of course, I spend that time now on my computer.

I can say after two weeks, nothing changed in how I would act on my own compared to how I act in a shared place. So when the time comes, I can try and look for the best place; with or without a roommate.

Of course, the one difference between now and later is hopefully I’ll have a new job with 9-5 hours, Monday through Friday.

… Well the last two weeks living alone hasn’t been without problems. About a week ago, I was told contractors and painters will be over and they would probably show up at 8 in the morning starting this past Tuesday.

No one showed up at that time.

Now 8 a.m. is not a good time for someone that works nights and stays up late, as evidenced by the time stamp on this blog. Again, I set my alarm for 8 a.m. that night.

So on Wednesday I learned the snooze button on my alarm works about three times before giving up. As you can guess, no one showed up until I was about to leave for lunch after 11. They removed the entire tile in the kitchen and the counter top. They even took the kitchen sink.

As I left for work later that day I asked one of the guys if they would be back the next day. He said, sure about 8 a.m.

Three snooze buttons later, nothing.

On Friday I did not set my alarm and they returned, at 10:30 a.m. There is now a marble looking counter top in the kitchen and a new sink.

On Saturday I didn’t set my alarm and my doorbell rang at 8:30 a.m. I let them in and returned to bed.

They still need to paint the kitchen and living room and put in a new stove. Then they turn their attention to the bathrooms. I have a feeling it’s going to be a while at this pace.

… More than a week ago I received word some of my former co-workers in Riverside were laid off. A couple of reporters and photographers I used to work with were among the many that were cut.

In talking to one of my good friends he said many just feel guilt for surviving, which I understand. It was nearly a year after I was transferred to Torrance when these cuts were made. You don’t feel glad you still have your job but you do your work in a Pavlovian manner; you’re there, but your heart is not in it.

With that newspaper, my advice to them is to use anyone that left there – especially if they let go – as an example. This is not the end but just a difficult beginning to something better.

After all, they are reporters. They know how most of their stories end.

Marching on

Why would someone admit they: A) spent $14 on a hamburger they could have gotten for $4, and B) order a hamburger at an expensive steakhouse on a commercial?

… With the beginning of March comes the knowledge I am almost done with my typical two months of struggle that happens every year at this time. I’d like to say I am optimistic March won’t be so bad.

Why would I feel this way? Well, I look back at how bad January was and usually it is two months of ache for me every year so maybe I am in the clear. Another sign is a fortune cookie I got from Panda Express this past weekend saying my luck was about to change for the better.

Alright, so maybe the later isn’t a strong piece of evidence. I will say there has been some good news.

… I don’t have to worry about moving in the immediate future. Yes, I’ll still have to pay an increase of rent, however. I did learn my roommate wasn’t going to move out on April 1st as I believed. So I don’t have to move out in a hurry and look for a new place.

The apartment looks different on the outside from when I first moved in. There are awnings and a new coat of paint on the outside. The inside is going to be done in the next few weeks. Of course, I work nights so it will not be good timing for me.

So I’ll have to pay more in April. It’ll be nice to live in a new place for that month or few months that follow.

… Not worrying about moving gives me time to look for work. My big concern before was moving out then finding a job far from where I lived. Or worse yet, I’d take a job that I really didn’t want because of where I lived.

Now that I’m solid on where I’m living, I can look for a job I’d love to have, a much better position to be in.

Of course, I can’t get too comfortable. The transfer is still coming up and my goal is still getting out before it happens. Again, I may have received some good news as I might be able to transfer and if I don’t like it, I could still get the buyout.

If I can’t find a new job, at least I’ll have work – that’s what I’ve been told.

I do have help in this transition. A family friend is helping me get my resume in order. I’ve learned a lot so far.

… And if February was an early end to my yearly turmoil, then the last day of the month will be remembered as one of the best days of my life.

The problem with what I do for a living is most of my friends are committed bachelors, it comes with the territory. Males working in a sports department of a newspaper, for the most part, can’t find someone to love. It’s sad but true. This job is one of the many reasons why my relationship didn’t last. (My friend getting married isn’t in the newspaper field in case you are wondering.)

So when a friend gets married, you’re excited. You’re even more excited when you get to play a part of it. My job, play the music.

The ceremony was short, sweet and perfect for them. He was the groom with no groomsmen, not even a best man. They were married by a childhood friend of his.

I’d like to say I was perfect, but I made three very small mistakes, but nothing to do with the music, just microphone volume was too low sometimes.

Playing the music was fun but at one point it was lonely as many people went outside leaving the dining hall nearly empty for almost an hour. I had to stay behind as someone needed to stay with the music. People came back towards the end and we all had a good time. The important thing is the newlyweds had the best time.

Afterwards, we went to the home of the groom’s parents for a casual dinner. I’ve known the groom for nine years, since we worked together at the school newspaper, but never knew him beyond that until the past two weeks. I got to meet more of his family beyond his parents and sister. I also got to know his wife more over the past couple of months.

It was a tremendous honor and privilege to serve in some capacity at their wedding. I hope for nothing but the best for them as they begin their life together as husband and wife.