It's cool visiting family, being in Yellow Springs

My children Alec and Jessica were waiting for me when I arrived in Columbus, Ohio. It was incredible to see them. They look great, and they even carried my luggage for me. Great kids. I hope to see Jack and Caroline on Thanksgiving. There's a lot of catching up to do since Phuong and I had a baby in July.
 I love travel and being in Yellow Springs, Ohio, but I hate being away from my wife and daughter. Unacceptable trade-off. Phuong and I talk on Skype and I can watch and listen to Joanna do baby stuff, like grunt, laugh, cry and kiss Phuong. And when I shout into my computer to get Joanna's attention, she looks around like she's expecting me to show up and sit on the bed next to her. I wish it was that easy. It makes me unbelievably happy to see Phuong and Joanna together. Phuong is so committed to motherhood, as she should be. And she's so cheerful even when she doesn't get sleep. Phuong is always smiling. Me? I'm Mr. Complain when I don't get much sleep and Mr. Complain when I get too much sleep. I never smile. Well, that's not really true, but close enough.
I love the weather and food here. It's been about 40 degrees F  or about 0 to 15 degrees C. I bought gloves, an Ohio State pullover sweatshirt/hoodie and camouflage pants to stay warm. I've eaten hamburgers, french fries, tapioca pudding, pizza, sausages, $3 muffins, hard pretzels, and stinky cheese. I drink beer, coffee and Yoo-Hoo.  And I've had some nice beers at a local brewery and my friend's apartment. My friend John has been a gracious and generous host, as usual.
Americans want to talk about the election, but there seems to be some concern about which side you were on. A truck driver staying at the Springs Motel, where I happen to be staying, was telling me how happy he was that Trump defeated that "evil woman."  He was cool about it, and didn't preach to me in any way. I responded to the "evil" comment by saying that Trump won, so it doesn't matter now. Most of the folks in Y.S. are like me concerning the election -- shocked and disbelieving. It's really difficult to grasp two words: President Trump.  I hope things work out for the best.
Gas is very inexpensive here at the moment. I have a mid-sized car, and it's OK. Driving is OK, or a little better than the motorbike. I still prefer walking.
My son Alec and I took a hike in Glen Helen and we were about to cross a small bridge when we saw a blue heron about 20 feet away standing in the creek. The blue heron is a good-sized bird, but this one seemed a little too comfortable near people, in the White Monkey's opinion.  I go to the Glen every day, even though there some construction work in progress on some of the trails. The Glen is one of the things I really miss when I'm in Vietnam.
Anyway, excited about family Thanksgiving and upcoming trip to the East Coast to see friends and family.

Leaving my wife Phuong and daughter Joanna to visit the land of Ronald Mac Donald

I have mixed emotions as I pack to go the United States early tomorrow morning (Nov. 15). I can't wait to see my children and the few people in the U.S. who let me say they're my "friends." I also need a break from the heat here, from our visa drama, and I really need some time away from work to recharge my battery. My schedule isn't heavy, but I do have classes six days a week. The most significant time off I've had this past year is from two rough motorbike accidents, gallbladder surgery, and the birth of my fifth child, the beautiful Joanna Pham Millman. I didn't even take any real time off to celebrate Phuong's divorce and our wedding (in that order). I took a week off when my son Alec came to visit, but that's pretty much it in terms of free time. And don't forget, I'm a 61-year-old White Monkey with a four-month baby and beautiful wife who has endless energy. Guess it could be worse, but my wife and baby are the reason for my conundrum. I don't want to leave them. Joanna actually recognizes me now -- she always smiles at me first thing in the morning when she sees my ugly pug. I'm usually a gummy bear (our term for a grump) in the morning, but Joanna and Phuong have me loving life in the morning. It helps that I rarely drink, quit smoking, and don't work stupid late like I did in the newspaper business. So my family in Vietnam is one big reason I have mixed emotions about traveling. The other is the elephant in the room that is president-elect Donald Trump.  It took me two days for me to get over his victory, and really, I'm not sure I'll fully recover until he's out of office. But I'm an eternal optimist, so I'll hope for the best, which means I'll hope the guy gets a clue and some class along the way. I've got a Vietnamese wife, and things are tough enough for our family when it comes to immigration and visas. I can't see that improving in the short term. So I'm leaving my beloved wife and newborn to take care of business in a country where anger, frustration and race fueled the election of a "businessman" with questionable qualifications and even more questionable character. But I'll tell you what: I'll grab Trump's you-know-what (small hand) and kiss him on the lips if he gets Phuong a visa to legally enter the United States so we can raise our daughter there, enroll our daughter in American schools, and sign our family up for Obamacare. I think Obama is a great president. Whether you agree or not, I have to believe you know he'll be missed, especially now.
But these issues won't detract from the fact I'll see my children and friends, I'll visit with my lawyer and eye doctor, I'll eat pizza, subs, barbecued beef and pork, and coffee ice cream. I'll  drink Yoo-Hoo, the delicious chocolate energy drink that I've enjoyed since I was 4 years old. The only way it gets any better than this is to have my wife and daughter with me. Maybe one day.
* Joanna got her social security card today, making her an even more official American citizen. I wonder if she'll have to pay taxes. Hell, the president-elect doesn't pay taxes any more (or at least I don't think he does), so why should she.

My kids are blessed with incredible moms

I'll be 62 years old in December when Joanna is five months old. This is no news flash, but physical conditioning and commitment will play a huge role in how effective and successful a parent I will be with Joanna. I'm trying to do my part with daily walks, no cigarettes, very minimal alcohol, tai chi, and pansy weightlifting for a balky shoulder and ailing back from my motorbike wrecks. I do my own damn laundry, cook when necessary, whip Phuong in rock-scissors-paper to do the dishes, and keep the kitchen and house pretty clean. The bathrooms are a little gritty, but I don't care since I don't eat or sleep in them. (Let me clarify: The bathrooms I use are gritty, the bathroom Phuong and Joanna use is immaculate.)
My employer, VMG, is understanding and trying to be as accommodating as possible with my schedule. Ideally, I wouldn't work at all, but I've felt that way my entire life regardless of parenting responsibilities or past employers. But in reality, I enjoy teaching and the students in Vietnam, so I'll work as long as I can. My 38-year-old wife Phuong is endless energy and has been waiting her whole life to have a baby. I can't say enough about Phuong's dedication and commitment to making Joanna's life incredibly wonderful and comfortable. But Joanna is developing a distinctive personality and Phuong and I must adjust. Joanna doesn't sleep as much as my other children did, if memory serves me well. And when Joanna is hungry, or lonely, or super tired (from not sleeping), she expresses her unhappiness in no uncertain terms, meaning she wails and screams at the top of her lungs and turns bright red in the process. On the other hand, when she gets a vaccination or smacks her head or face with a plastic toy, she hardly cries at all. Sounds like a tough kid (like mom) with a bad temper (like dad). She's only four months old, but she'll belly laugh when we play with her. However, she gets bored with our antics pretty quickly. Phuong and I like to say that Joanna is thinking: OK, that was funny once or twice, but now what are you going to do to make me laugh? She rolls over only from back to front, and only to her left. One time she rolled over so hard that she went from back to belly to back. Man, was she shocked. She likes to play with her toys by herself (thank you for the rattles, Joy) when she isn't demanding Phuong's presence. And when she expresses her need for company, Phuong is there faster than you can say whaaaaaa!
I mention all this because it brings back the wonderful memories of my four older children when they were babies and kids growing up. There were some rough moments, like in any family, but my kids turned out to be great people.  Phuong has the utmost respect for my ex-wife Lynda, since Lynda raised our four children and did an incredible job doing so. I feel the same way about Lynda. The commitment shown by Phuong and Lynda to children and family is incredibly humbling. It's made me re-think my values, my commitments, my screw-ups in the past. Maybe the White Monkey should stop thinking ... and start doing.
I can say now that I'm blessed to have met Phuong and have another child, even at the age of 62. On second thought, make that: Especially at the age of 62.

Is white right? 'Beautiful' isn't most important adjective

White skin is considered chic in Vietnam. If you go into the beauty shops, which I do on occasion, there are countless skin whiteners or lighteners on the shelves. The billboards feature light-skinned Vietnamese women with equally white teeth, and the outdoor advertisements and posters for local English language centers show smiling, blonde-haired, blue-eyed, white children studying English. Everyone knows that the sun can damage your skin, but I think that many white wannabes here are more afraid of darker skin  than they are of skin cancer. I have no statistical evidence to support this, but I think the preference for white skin explains why folks go to remarkable lengths to cover up by wearing hats, hoodies, gloves, long pants, and scarves on their faces in 90-plus degree heat. White was the preferred skin color in Peru, as well. The lighter the skin, the higher the caste in many people's eyes. How ridiculous.  In the U.S., a lot of people go to great lengths to have darker skin, or a tan. Go figure. I find darker-skinned Vietnamese and Peruvians and African-Americans more exotic looking. In other words, I think they're hot. My wife Phuong has fairly dark skin -- not super dark, but certainly darker than mine. And Phuong is very pretty, in my eyes. Our daughter Joanna has light/white skin, and that seems to attract a lot of attention in town. But an older, wiser White Monkey realizes that looks and appearance don't mean much after a while. Qualities such as kindness, generosity and intelligence will give a relationship longevity. Physically "beautiful" people aren't physically beautiful forever.
I tried to explain my philosophy about beauty to a couple of my classes with an adjectives exercise. One of the tasks: Use three adjectives to describe your favorite person. Every student, and I mean every student, used the adjectives "pretty, beautiful and handsome" and then were at a loss for words. They had used up all their adjectives to describe people. So I asked about their moms. One girl said "fat" and another said "short."  I told them their mom isn't their favorite person because she's "short" and "fat" or tall and thin or ... beautiful. Maybe she's chic, but hopefully she's a child's favorite because she is kind, caring, generous, thoughtful, nice, smart, loving. These are adjectives, by the way. And these are traits that don't erode over time, like physical beautiful can. I believe a couple of the students actually understood the point I was trying to make. When teachers make students think, they're doing their job. So maybe I actually earned my paycheck this week.
I'm loving my walk and coffee shops these days. The corner coffee shop, where I take all the traffic pictures, has great coffee and nice waitresses. The owner is very nice as well. And Lidos by the river has cleaned up the riverbank and added a nice waiter and waitress. Since I walk almost every day, almost everyone knows me. I shake hands with some of the security guards and car wash employees, and wave to coffee shop waitresses and vendors. When they're not on their motorbikes, the Vietnamese are some of the nicest people I've ever met anywhere. Especially the ones that are pretty and have white skin. Ha ha.
My son Jack recently passed the bar exam in the United States, which means he's an honest-to-god lawyer now after graduating from New York University Law School No. 3 in his class. I'm so incredibly proud of him. Of course, I'm proud of all my children -- Jessica, Caroline, Alec, Jack and Joanna. But this is Jack's time in the spotlight. Congratulations, son. I love you and admire you.

"Peanut" head, healthy living, "Dollars"

Phuong's dad has a nickname for his granddaughter Joanna. It's "Dollars" because Phuong and I dropped a bundle last week on the world's most beautiful baby. We bought a stroller and high chair, more toys, cool pants and shirts, and fancy diapers. We spent millions (of dong) and it was worth every dong.  We also dropped more money on Joanna for medicine, but we don't even consider that spending. Phuong is so proud of our daughter that she doesn't just push the stroller and walk in the morning; she struts and strides with stroller in hand. You can see that Phuong is waiting for the neighbors to come and admire Joanna. We had trouble leaving the mall because shoppers wanted to look, touch, and kiss Joanna. The White Monkey, once the  darling of the female crowd in Bien Hoa,  is no longer the star of the show. Joanna, the little "Peanut",  has made the White Monkey an afterthought. I started calling Joanna "Peanut" because I always have a nickname for kids -- and Joanna's head is kind of shaped like a peanut. My friends Tommy and Tony have also used that nickname for Joanna without knowing Phuong and I also use that nickname. We'll drop the nickname when she gets a little older (and when her hair grows to cover her head).
Joanna now rolls over routinely -- back to stomach only -- so we have to keep an extra sharp eye on her. Her first turn was stomach to back, but she freaked a little because her head bounced on the bed when she landed on her back. I poked around on the internet and saw that the average baby who is 14 weeks old weighs 6.5 kilograms and is 61 centimeters long. Joanna is 14 weeks old, 7.5 KG and 72 CM.  She's tall and really stands out here, so to speak. Joanna is going to be someone special because her mom is someone very special. I'm jealous of both of them.
My body has made a rapid recovery from surgery, thanks primarily to Phuong's cooking. She bought a pressure cooker and has stopped using any oil in her cooking. We eat beef, pork and chicken with steamed potatoes, carrots, corn on the cob, onions, and anything else we can buy from the vegetable man. I still have yogurt and cookies for dessert, and everything has been just dandy.
I've pretty much cut coffee from my diet. I have a small, watered-down cup late morning during my walk, and that's it. I used to have at least three hearty cups a day.  And since I don't smoke anymore (7 months now!) and never drink more than one beer at a time, the White Monkey is not only healthy, he's incredibly boring. Phuong is happy, and that's what matters most to me. Well, that and Joanna and my four fantastic children in the United States: Jessica, Caroline, Jack and Alec.
I saw a motorbike accident last week. A guy turned right from the center lane and clipped the bike in the right lane, knocking the rider to the ground. The rider on the ground rolled quickly and avoided having his head hit by a fast-approaching bike. Typical stuff here. No one slows, no one yields, and nobody stops their bikes to help a victim. Pedestrians will help, but motorbike riders only seem to care about getting somewhere fast.
I ride very slow these days so even if I'm in an accident, the damage hopefully will be minimal.
I returned to teaching a week after surgery and I've had some great classes ... no, I wasn't great, but the students were. One class in particular on Monday night was hilarious but focused. We laughed and learned the entire 90 minutes. These types of classes remind me why I got into teaching in the first place.

White Monkey's doctor leaves no stone unturned

 The most difficult part of having my gallbladder removed was being separated from my daughter Joanna. Everything is happening with her now -- she's three months and one week old. She baby babbles at everyone; she can kick like a mule; she has a great smile, giggle and belly laugh; and she uses her hands to grab toys and my glasses. I missed all that for four days last week when doctors in Ho Chi Minh City poked, prodded, tested and eventually sliced and diced the White Monkey to remove a sack of stones next to my liver that was impersonating a gallbladder. The process was a little too long but the doctors and nurses were competent enough. I went to the hospital on a Monday, was sent away, returned Tuesday for some testing, had more testing and waiting on Wednesday, surgery on Thursday, and finally, more waiting on Friday. Most unpleasant was when the nurse stuck a quarter-inch wide, 3-foot long plastic tube up my nose and then gagging-ly guided it down my throat and into my stomach. The tube stayed there 12 hours -- before, during and after surgery --  and was quite uncomfortable. Another challenge was my noisy roommates, two loud, talkative women who turned on a bright spotlight at 3 a.m. for god knows why. I also had to shave my chest and stomach with a cheap razor that left about 11 cuts on my torso.
Phuong was incredible throughout the entire process. She acted as translator, facilitator, nurse, doctor, counselor, accountant and dietician. Of course, she never stopped being an incredible and caring mom for Joanna. I couldn't live without Phuong and every day I thank God she's in my life. And Phuong made sure to get my gall stones from the doctor after the surgery so I could share an image of them with all my Facebook friends, whether they liked it or not. I love that woman so much. Phuong's mom and dad were also there, getting food and drinks, watching Joanna, and being supportive in every way possible.
I'll have three small scars on my stomach where a tiny camera and cutting tools were inserted into the White Monkey to remove the bladder. The pain is fairly minimal -- nothing like the last two motorbike accidents. And as I noted on Facebook, the pain that has been dogging my back, shoulder and ribs for more than a year is gone.
Right before surgery, while under the pleasant influence of drugs, I started thinking of all the puns I would use in my blog (for the benefit of legendary punsters Lucy Baker and Andy Vincent). I thought of stuff like listing my new favorites -- actors: Rock Hudstone and Stoney Curtis; activity: getting stoned; drink: anything on the rocks; TV show: The Flintstones; city: Boulder;. and movie: Rocky. 
I'm sure my diet will adjust to no gallbladder, as will my body.  Everyone says cut down on fatty foods, which are my favorite, but otherwise, it's business as usual. Phuong is a great cook and she'll take care of the White Monkey. Since I'm returning to the U.S. soon, I want to be able to eat some of that great, greasy American food that my bloated body has been missing for the past year, and drink a few quality beers with my buds.
And most of all, I want to see my children, who I miss so much while living here. I'll eventually get my wife Phuong and daughter Joanna to the U.S. where they can meet my children Jessica, Caroline, Jack and Alec. Phuong and Alec met earlier this year and hit if off super well. I can't wait for everyone to get together. Let's rock!

Doctor will remove body part from fat teacher in burka

I taught a class of young teenagers last week that I hadn't taught in a few months. We were becoming pretty good friends before I was taken off the class, and when I finally returned, the class dynamic had changed. Now there are only two girls in the class of 11 students, and one is new. One or two of the boys are new as well. The new girl was friendly and chatty, and quickly became concerned about my weight and a scab on the side of my head. The scab is the remains of a big lesion that was removed by laser. Anyway, when I had students write five sentences with "should" and "shouldn't", the new girl gave me the business:
1. Teacher John should lose weight and have a good body.
2. Teacher John shouldn't eat so much and be so big.
I'm glad this girl didn't see me when I was eating Vietnamese donuts every day. Or see the lesion on my head before the laser treatment. Several staffers where I worked asked about the scab on my head as well. I'm considering wearing a burka (burqa?) so I don't have to field questions about my face or body, both sensitive subjects for the White Monkey.
Being confined in a small area is also a sensitive subject for the White Monkey. That's where I found myself when I got stuck in the elevator at work recently. I never take the elevator, however on this day I was running just a little bit late (because the copy machine was struggling) and I was teaching on the fifth floor. So I joined a couple of kids who were taking the elevator to the second floor. When they got off, the doors closed and everything stopped working. The elevator didn't move and the doors wouldn't open. I was worried the elevator would plummet to the lower levels and damage the White Monkey. I called the front desk and the girl who answered had no idea what "stuck in the elevator on the second floor" meant. She handed the phone to an intern who "translates" for the front desk girls, and I think he asked what location I was in -- we have three or four branches. After much discussion, we decided I was in the same building as he was. A very nice man who does a little bit of everything at the school showed up with a crowbar and eventually pried the doors open. I was in the very, very warm elevator for 18 minutes -- I timed the whole affair. The students laughed at me -- and with me -- about the incident when I finally showed up to teach. Another day at the office.
I haven't had a cigarette for more than six and a half months, and what I saw the other day makes me so happy I quit. At the beginning of my walk near our house, a man was holding a young baby with a lit cigarette in his mouth. I presume it's his son. When I returned from the walk, I saw the same man holding the same baby with another lit cigarette in his mouth. I was gone an hour, so this guy could have smoked a bunch of cigarettes in that time with a baby in his arms. Even in my worst smoking days, I can't recall ever holding a lit butt and baby at the same time. Maybe my ex-wife could produce a videotape of me smoking during child care. If she does, I'll feel like Donald Trump.
Phuong, Joanna and I are going to the hospital in Ho Chi Minh City tomorrow so I can get my gall bladder removed. I've got some real stones ... in my gall bladder ... and I've been in much pain lately. I've learned to embrace pain after my two motorbike accidents, but the stones are causing pain in my stomach, back, and other places not worth mentioning. After the mini-surgery, I want the doctor to give me the gall bladder and stones so I can put them in jar and take them to class for show and tell.
I wonder what the teenage girl would write then:
Fat Teacher John shouldn't bring his disgusting body parts and stones to class.
Doctors should cut more out of Teacher John so he isn't  fat.
I booked my plane ticket to the U.S. today. Of course, my wife and daughter won't be coming with me. We've hired an attorney who will deal with the Embassy. Phuong was completely truthful throughout the visa application process. It'll take time, but we have nothing to hide or fear.