From Kavanaugh to death music to my girl cursing

Even my wife's family followed the train wreck that was Donald Trump's nomination of Brett Kavanaugh to the U.S. Supreme Court. Phuong and her family didn't understand all the finer points of the situation, but they got the gist.  They relied on me to fill in the blanks. I tried to be unbiased, but really ... First, I'm a registered Democrat. Second, I can't get my Vietnamese wife a visa to enter the U.S. Finally, we're talking about Kavanaugh, a man who was accused of sexual assault and had the support of a Republican Senate and president who has discussed "grabbing (women) by the p*****",  adding that "when you're a star, they let you do it." The Vietnamese I've spoken to say they liked President Barack Obama. They don't really give me an opinion on Trump. You can guess my opinion. I saw Trump speak at the Bakersfield Business Conference in the 1990s, and I was more impressed with Phyllis Diller's speech. Really. I want to return to the U.S. with my wife and little girl, but I don't want to come back to a divided country that rejects foreigners. Unbelievable, isn't it, that a country made great by its immigrants is now trying to close the door? Hypocrites.

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Everyone in our neighborhood is sick, which would normally make me smile, except I'm also one of the people who's sick. Here's what happened. Two neighbors on our street died last week. No, we didn't catch what they had. But all of us had to endure six days of loud, fingernail-on-chalkboard singing and music starting at 6:30 a.m. and finishing at 3 a.m. Death seems to be a more significant event than life is here, hence the massive death ceremonies. People "celebrate" the anniversaries of death with similar singing and music ... and gusto. The problem last week was that the music and singing really kicked into high gear around midnight and continued easily until 3 a.m. Professional mourners were hired to keep the music and wailing going until the wee-wee hours. Phuong and I went to Joanna's room, where it was only slightly quieter. Joanna tossed and turned, and Phuong and I didn't sleep well and got pissy with each other every day during the death concerts. Even with sickness, life improved the day the music died. I live with headphones on here so I can sleep and not hear death music and people asking me what my name is and where I'm from.

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Joanna has become a talking machine, which makes me so happy since she's only 27 months old. One of my sons was a very late talker, not saying much until he was close to 3 and a half. "Everything was fine until then," he says now. Anyway, I have to be especially careful around Joanna, who listens when you don't think she's listening, and repeats what you have once said when you least expect it. She dropped a "What the f@#k?" on me when one of her toys fell apart while she was playing. And she copied my "bulls#&t" to describe a fish tank with live, exposed wires next to our tennis court. I didn't react either time and there hasn't been a repeat performance, thank God. Joanna copies some of the noises I make during tai chi five animals play exercises -- she does the "hi, hi, hi-yaa" sound of the "bear" very, very well. Love that little girl.

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The tennis workouts and matches with Phuong are fantastic. Every match is close and the rallies are long and hotly contested. The heat is rough, but we persevere and enjoy ourselves. Joanna plays with Lego's or her cousin on the sidelines and is very well-behaved. The No. 1 ranking is up in the air because we've split the last six matches. Also, I want to publicly thank my ex-wife Lynda for getting my new glasses to Phuong's aunt in Chicago, who brought them to Bien Hoa this week. My life is finally coming into focus.