I have just returned from a long weekend in California, and continue to be astounded at our capability to travel long distances these days. John and I have been negotiating for an appropriate weekend for me to visit him and his family, and last weekend worked out well for us. His business obligations take them all over the world; they spent the summer in Europe and China, but are currently in northern California. And they are not the only globe-trotting members of our extended family – Beth is in Japan this month and Sara has just returned from a conference in Poland. How times change! In the 1940s, a trip more than a couple of hundred miles from home was unheard of.
The highlight of the first Cinerama film I saw was a coast-to-coast flight by stunt pilot Paul Mantz. In addition to the excitement of seeing Niagara Falls and the Grand Canyon from the air, we viewers were struck by the contrast in the landscape as he flew west. Accustomed to wooded hills and winding rivers, we Pittsburghers were thrilled as the countryside changed from prosperous farms in the Midwest to the majesty of the Rockies, followed by the desolation in Utah and Nevada, before reaching the plush Central Valley of California. My flight west paralleled Mantz’s, and I was fortunate to have clear skies all the way. It isn’t difficult to keep yourself entertained when you have that ever-changing view out of your window. It certainly is easy to appreciate the importance of water when you see the vast expanses of desert in the West.
After a lovely reunion with Victoria and her mother, John and I drove to a local library to pick up Lai An after her session with her French tutor and then to deliver her to her fencing lesson. Eleven-year-old Lai An is a very impressive young lady. The product of two very different cultures, she has been exposed to a remarkable variety of experiences in her short life. I’m sure this is not uncommon these days – northern California is full of Asian-American families – but it seems remarkable to someone of my generation. She speaks Chinese and English naturally, and is currently enrolled in an International School where all the classes are conducted in French, with the exception of the English class. As a result of her extensive travel and constant exposure to two highly intelligent parents, she is understandably mature for her age. It is easy for me to worry that her days are terribly overscheduled, but I recognize that things are much different today from what they were when I was her age. I am especially pleased with her interest in current affairs as well as in their historical perspective.
One evening we went to a movie at a theater specializing in classical films presented in an old-fashioned environment. I was delighted to see that they have retained the tradition of having a live organist playing appropriate music before the show, and was happy to join in the applause celebrating his performance as he and the organ disappeared into the pit just as the curtain opened. Fortified with a drink and a large container full of popcorn, I settled back to enjoy “The Third Man”. The theater is currently featuring “film noir” movies from the 1940s and 1950s, Hollywood’s combination of German Expressionism Cinematography and American hardboiled crime fiction of the 1930s. “The Third Man” was produced in England, directed by Carol Reed, and has all of the characteristics of “film noir” – black-and-white photography, an emphasis on cynicism, ambivalence, and the presence of mysteries. I was surprised to learn that Graham Greene wrote the screen play; he is one of my favorite authors, but I wouldn’t group him with Dashiel Hammett and Raymond Chandler. At any rate, he did a fine job of creating memorable characters for Orson Welles, Trevor Howard, Joseph Cotton, and Alida Valli.
I must reiterate my gratitude for being able, at my age, to travel all this distance to see my son and his family. Seeing Victoria’s mother was an added bonus. She is a perfect example of someone straddling several generations and two very different cultures. This weekend she was busy harvesting the edible “meat” out of acorns and producing very acceptable acorn tofu. I can’t imagine being able to function in a foreign culture the way she does. John and Victoria (and Lai An) are truly multi-cultural, primarily because they have both functioned in different cultures most of their mature lives. This is fortunate, as John’s business obligations are truly global, though focused primarily on Europe, the United States, and China.
Another added bonus was meeting my latest grand-dog, Amelia. She is a one-year-old English Cream Golden Retriever. Apparently “cream golden” is a synonym for white, although in certain lights she does appear to be at least off-white. Nominally Lai-An’s dog, Amelia is both John’s responsibility and his “pride-of-joy”. She certainly is a welcome addition to our extended family, which includes Sara’s “Porter” (a black Labrador) and Beth’s “Gunnar” (a mostly blue tick hound). The children’s love of dogs is one of many positive inheritances from their mother; we are grateful for all of them.
Every opportunity I have to spend time with my children and their families is precious to me. Fancy dinners and trips to the theater and sight-seeing are lots of fun, but the intimate family gatherings are far more important. Perhaps I am making up for my youth, when our nearest relatives were a day’s journey from us, in contrast with the Bridgeville prototype, where everyone else had “family” living nearby. My best friend, Ed Weise, had three aunts, three uncles, and six cousins living within a block of his house! Many thanks to John for making this particular visit possible and for sharing the simple, basic things of their life with me.