The Grand(est)son

“I am the greatest son, Dad!”

“Really?” I replied thoughtfully.

“With no parenthesis. Greatest. Not Great(est).”

“Really?” I replied. Reiteratively.

“I am a paper-writing wizard, Dad,” Darius, the college professor, continued.

“Really?” I replied. Skeptically.

“Has your vocabulary become stunted? Darius asked.

“If you were a paper-writing wizard, Dar, wouldn’t you just wave your wand or rub your hands together and..”

“I was speaking metaphorically.”

“It looks like hundreds of random piles of paper (each containing indecipherable greek letters) simply materialized. Debris spontaneously appeared all over the house.”

“Really?” Darius replied.

“The detritus is concentrated on the dining table. Next to your laptop. How is the paper going?”

“It’s going to be a breakthrough in economic thought Dad.”

The paper-writing(set) son

“It seems very complicated.”

“I’ve vastly simplified the model, Dad. I’ve made dramatic progress. Simplification! That’s key.”

“Is it finished?” I asked. “Simplified?” I thought. “Was it too complicated to begin with?”
“Enormous progress, Dad. I’ve made..”

“Didn’t you schedule a presentation at UCSB?” I asked. “You are supposed to present your results tomorrow!” I thought.

The next day, as I was driving Darius to UCSB, he was “preparing” his PowerPoint.

“I don’t know why this always happens, Dad.” Darius muttered. “Every time I have a presentation, I end up preparing the slides at the last minute.”

“Not always, Dar. Sometimes it’s at the very last minute. It’s part of your charm.”
Darius’ presentation was, of course, well received. Colleagues made several suggestions which would, eh, ‘simplify’ the paper. Later that afternoon, Darius was waxing eloquent about his job.

“It’s great, Dad. Look at this! I’ve had a one month holiday. And I get most of the summer off. What other kind of job has those benefits?”

“You’ve been working 18 hours a day on your publications, Dar.” I replied.

“And I’ve made great progress.”

“But you are working during your vacation.”

“Perhaps we made mistakes in upbringing,” I thought. I asked Nazy for her opinion.

“Our offspring are all working hard and long hours. You’ve seen Darius’ research activities. And, in the midst of a deal, Melika, the corporate lawyer, gets stuck at the office until late at night. Mitra, the Tango entrepreneur, not only works late every night (that’s the nature of Tango), she’s even been known to arise early. What did we do wrong?”

“It’s your fault, Dan.” Nazy replied. “You exemplified diligence.”

“So, I was a bad example?”

“No. They’re all doing things they really like to do. And they all have time for having fun too.”

“That’s because of you, my dear.”

It was also Nazy’s (good) idea to move to Santa Barbara
(with Venus and Mercury)

With his presentation finished, Darius turned his attention to his return trip. In order to get back into Lebanon, he needs a passport with validity for at least six months. Unfortunately, his will expire in 5 months and 22 days. Even more unfortunately, he is leaving in four days. To meet his deadline, he had to visit a government office in Los Angeles. Driving into Los Angeles on a Friday morning is…

“Insane, Darius!” Nazy claimed. “Once it took me 4 hours. I missed my flight.”

Interestingly, it took Darius 4 hours to get from Santa Barbara to the government office. He called to complain.

“The navigation computer got confused, Dad. It’s her fault. Now I’m in a long line.”

“When there is no traffic-free routing, Penelope gets confused.” I replied.

“Penelope?”

“Penelope is the navigation computer. But maybe it’s not as bad as you think.”

“Four hours, Dad! Not as bad as I think? How is that possible?”

“Maybe the drive will be short compared to the time you spend waiting in line. And look at things positively. With a new, unused, passport, you won’t have to pay excess luggage fees. The new one will fit in the overhead compartment.”

On a completely different subject, Nazy and I looked at a unique house this week.

“You guys have got to see it,” Melika enthused. “It’s the ‘whale house’. It is famous .”

“Whale house?” I asked.

“It’s different, Dad. Every wall is curved. There’s an elevator in the middle of the house. The interior walls are made of large rocks.”

“This sounds great!” Nazy interrupted.

“Where do you put the TV?” I thought.

When we saw the house, we realized that it was even more eccentric. (Think Gaudi and Barcelona.) The only ‘normal’ room was disconnected from the house. There was a 75 foot lap pool (indoor and outdoor). The interior was filled with nooks, crannies, lofts.. it is almost impossible to describe. Nazy and I were

“.. intrigued, Dan.” Nazy began.

“It’s not practical,” I replied. “But it is certainly not a vanilla house. I like unusual.”

“It needs a lot of work. The shingle roof needs some repair, the heater is old and the kitchen is dated.”

“Btu there are lots of places to put decorative candles.”

“I’m not sure our furniture would fit.”

The Whale House

“We need new furniture.”

“And if the electricity is off, the only way you can get from floor to floor is by a spiral staircase that is open to the elements.”

“There are no ‘elements’ in Santa Barbara weather, Dan.”

For last week’s letter, please click here

The mouth of the whale