Wildfire threatens some lovely homes

When you live in the West, you always have to accept the possibility of wildfires.

And the last few days, with the humidity in single digits and the temperature in triple digits, fires have been burning all around the Los Angeles area.

We owned a home in La Canada Flintridge for more than 18 years. Homes in our small city have sold for a median price of more than $1 million, making it one of the most desirable areas in all of Southern California. That's why even though we were selling in the middle of a housing crash and a national recession, we came very close to getting the price we were asking.

Boy, did we sell at the right time.


Less than three weeks after we closed and collected the cash for our equity, wildfires have destroyed most of the forest above La Canada. Families living within a mile of where we lived have been evacuated, and firefighters have been working day and night to save their neighborhoods.

We haven't been through a lot of anguish, but if this fire had happened a month ago, we would have been right there with our tenants/buyers doing whatever we could to keep the fire from destroying our property.

Ah, Southern California.

It's definitely paradise, as long as you don't mind earthquakes, fires, mudslides and the rest.

To my son on his wedding day

My son got married today.

It wasn't the beautiful November wedding he and his fiancee had planned. That will still happen as a celebration of their love, but Virgile is leaving for Washington, D.C., in less than two weeks to start his career in the U.S. Foreign Service and he wanted to take Sterling with him as his wife.

We have come to know her well over the three years they have been dating, and we have seen how good they are for each other.

Things got rather hectic on our way to the courthouse in Lancaster, the only one within a reasonable distance that could fit them in. Our brand-new car conked out a few miles short of its destination, and we took a cab the rest of the way.

I didn't really have a chance to talk to my son about marriage, which disappointed me a little. We have had so many good conversations about life and what to expect. We even had the sex talk that so many fathers and sons struggle with.

I have seen marriage from both sides, from a failed one in my twenties to a good one that is coming up on 17 years this fall, so I probably wouldn't presume to give him much personal advice.

I actually would rather tell him about love, and I've never known a better description of love than Paul's first letter to the Christians at Corinth. Here's the famous excerpt from what he wrote in 1 Corinthians 13:

"Love is patient and is kind; love doesn’t envy. Love doesn’t brag, is not proud, doesn’t behave itself inappropriately, doesn’t seek its own way, is not provoked, takes no account of evil; doesn’t rejoice in unrighteousness, but rejoices with the truth; bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never fails."


I learned those lessons about love from a wonderful person -- Virgile's mother and my wife. Nicole is the most loving person I have ever known and God granted me the greatest blessing of all when he allowed me to meet her on Sept. 12, 1992.

She and our two wonderful children from her first marriage, Virgile and his older sister Pauline, have brought awe and wonder, grace and meaning to my existence. I have fallen short of glory so many times, including today when the car broke down and I lost my temper, but Nicole's love epitomizes all the best characteristics of the words in the Bible.

She will always be the best person I know, my favorite person in the world.

So the best blessing I can give our son on the day of his wedding is this:

"May you be as good a husband as you possibly can, and may you have a wife as loving and as wonderful as your mother."

Best to speak no ill of the dead

"De mortuis nil nisi bonum."
-- ancient Roman proverb

Ted Kennedy, a man who would almost certainly have been president if not for a wrong turn he took in 1969, died this week.

I have been wondering for a long time what some people will say when it happened, knowing that it is relatively traditional to speak no ill of the dead. Over the last 40 years, no one has been hated more by the lunatic right than the last son of Joe Kennedy.

No, not even Hillary Clinton.

It wasn't all about Chappaquiddick, although Kennedy's failures there gave the nuts the ammunition they needed to attack him without ceasing. It was also because he was the last son of what could have been a political dynasty, and that made him beloved to a lot of people in a way few other liberals were.

What did they say about him today? I don't know what the Limbaughs and Hannitys said; I don't listen to them anymore. But I did check in on Free Republic, the most "mainstream" of the lunatic sites, and they didn't disappoint me. A lot of "scumbags," and "good riddances" and a lot of talk about how the 77-year-old Kennedy is certainly frying in hell.


Far be it from me here to argue with them. I never expected them to be as gracious as liberals were when Ronald Reagan died and they didn't disappoint me. I always considered Kennedy a tragic figure, the least of the brothers who had to bear the burden of the family and the nation's hopes after his older brothers were murdered.

He made a fine record for himself in the Senate, and was considered by members on both sides of the aisle as one of the greatest senators ever for his 47 years of service.

Beyond that, let's just say rest in peace.

Pride goeth before a realization

I was feeling pretty good about myself for a while today.

My wife and I had gone to meet with two financial advisors -- with the object of choosing one -- to discuss our impending retirement. I'm not sure when exactly it will happen, but the odds are pretty good we're down to counting the months on our fingers and toes.

We're not incredibly well off, but we have been working very hard to build up Nicole's 401(k) account and it's looking pretty good. We're living within our means and saving a significant account of money each month.

We managed to impress the advisors with our frugality, but what impressed them the most was the total amount of our liabilities.

Zero.

We just completed the sale of our house, so we no longer have a mortgage. We own all three of our cars free and clear and we have no personal loans or credit-card debt.

Frankly, I'm amazed.

I think I may have been in the same position for a while in 1984, but I didn't have any assets other than a 1979 Subaru that had already blown one engine.

So naturally, I felt good.

Then I thought about how little I really had to do with it. All I really did was marry well; my wife's income in one year is nearly equal to what I made in my best three years. She's a world-renowned scientist. I'm an unemployed journalist.

I write the checks to pay the bills, but that's about it.

So I'm happy I have a wonderful wife and proud that she loves me enough to keep me around.

That's enough for now.

Twists, turns and 17 wonderful years

I was sitting in the front seat of my car a few minutes ago, waiting for a parking space to open.

My son and his fiancee were occupying the space, and they were carrying some things down from our apartment to load into the car. They're getting married Friday and moving to Washington, D.C., in about two weeks as Virgile starts his career in the Foreign Service. It means we'll have a true empty nest, with both our children traveling around the world for their careers.

Nicole carried a few things down too, and I found myself watching her in the headlights and remembering for about the one-millionth time why I love her so much. In 20 days, on Sept. 12, it will be the 17th anniversary of the day we met. Just 51 days later, on Nov. 2, it will be our 17th wedding anniversary.

Can a life really change so much in that short a time?

I'm here to tell you it can. When I married my first wife in 1975, I was 25 and she was 21. A month after my 30th birthday we had separated for good. I know I loved her -- it's tough to hear a lot of songs from the '70s without thinking of her -- but I know we got married for all the wrong reasons.

Nearly 13 years separated the end of the first marriage and the beginning of the second, and there were certainly other opportunities. For one reason or another, though, I was still single in the summer of 1992 when I met Nicole.

I used to occasionally wonder what it would have been like if I had met her younger and we had had a child of our own, but I rarely think of that anymore. I have the most wonderful daughter and the most amazing son; Pauline and Virgile are not just high achievers but geniunely nice people as well.

Now Virgile is getting married and I will have a lovely daughter-in-law. Someday, God willing, there will be a lot more grandchildren. They may not have my blood, but just like their parents, they will have my heart.

And as I sit and look at my wife through the headlights, I know one other thing.

I'm married to the most beautiful grandmother in the world.

A nice day, a nice new car

For the last couple of years, I have been driving a car with some weird defects.

Both of the back windows in my 1999 Pontiac Grand Am are broken -- they won't go up or down and have to be wedged shut with cardboard. My gas gauge doesn't work, so I have had to estimate when I need to fill the tank.

But I like the car. It's the first one I've had in 30 years that wasn't a compact or a subcompact, and as I get older, I've been feeling more and more overwhelmed by all the giant SUVs on the freeways.

Still, it has 134,000 miles on it, which is a lot for an American car, and I have been looking longingly at car ads ever since we put our house on the market a year and a half ago. As we got closer and closer to completing the sale, I started comparing small SUVs and thinking how well my golf clubs would fit in the back of one.

When we were visiting in Seattle earlier this month, the rental car that I drove a few times was a Hyundai Sonata. I was impressed with some of the features, and I started looking at Hyundai's small SUV, the Tucson.

After 17 months of struggle, we finally closed on the house last week. The amazing thing was that despite the economy, we wound up selling for only 2.5 percent less than we wanted in the beginning. Believe me, it really is true what they say about "location, location, location."

To make a long story short, we salted away most of the money we got so that we'll have it to buy our retirement home. We did save a nice little chunk to buy a car, which we did today.

I didn't participate at all. My wife Nicole and my son Virgile both love to haggle, while I'm probably the only guy in the world who sees the sticker price and thinks that's what you have to pay. They got me a nice 2009 Tucson -- the same color as the one in the picture -- for $2,000 less than the sticker price and also got the dealer to throw in a $2,000 navigation system for free.

The best part is that we wrote a check and paid for it all today.

No car loan. No mortgage. No credit card debt or anything else. For the first time in my adult life, I don't owe anyone any money for anything.

I could get used to that.

America has changed since 1961

I don't know that I've ever been particularly enlightened by Ronald Reagan, but this 1961 speech against Medicare is kind of interesting.

Not so much for its specific message. Conservatives fought as hard as they could to stop Medicare, and as recently as 1995 with Newt Gingrich, they were working to privatize it and gut it. That's no secret to anyone.

But what fascinates me so much about this speech is how much America has changed.

Before the 1930s, there was no government welfare in America. And even in 1933, when Franklin D. Roosevelt came along with the New Deal, he made a point that its programs were strictly temporary and designed to get people back on their feet.

Folks believed then that any sort of permanent welfare would simply destroy people's incentive to go out and work for themselves.

There was a feeling that we were different, that Americans were more self-sufficient and would be ashamed to have to be supported by their neighbors.

That's pretty much changed. Ask even conservatives if they would do without Medicare and they're likely to look strangely at you. Ask farmers if they would go without subsidies, or bankers without last year's bailout, or the millions of folks out of work without unemployment insurance.

Not a chance.

I worked without interruption for 29 years, only to find myself out of work in January 2008. I have been collecting unemployment ever since, and I have been paid at a higher rate than I earned until the fifth of my seven career stops.

When you consider taxes, I would have to make at least $14-15 an hour to make any more money, and even then I would be working 40 hours a week for a net gain of about $20.

Should I be ashamed? I've had numerous friends say no, that I paid into it for years and I ought to get it back. But my mother, who grew up in that different America, says that money should be for the truly needy and I should be working, even if it's for less money.

Have we changed?

You bet we have.