The Boy Apong

'Apong', in Ilocano, means great-grandparent. It's the same for males and females, so the boys differentiated between my grandparents by calling them "the girl apong" and "the boy apong."

Tonight, the boy apong, my last surviving grandparent and the boys' last great-grandparent on my side died at the age of 92. When I told the boys, they both started to cry. Then, Riley giggled. I looked at him and asked, "what's funny?" He giggled again and said, "He lived longer than the doctors said he would." True. My grandfather was a survivor. He perservered as a prisoner of war. He survived the Bataan Death March. He raised seven children; he had fourteen grandchildren and four great-grandchildren. He enjoyed a long life. But that didn't stop the tears tonight as the boys mourned "the boy apong."

I am sad for my dad. For his siblings. However, I am grateful for the time that my boys were able to know their great-grandfather.

Ringing in the New Year, Mann-Style

Lots of people have new year's eve traditions. Ours = vicariously globe-trotting with international new year's eve traditions, board games, giggles, family cuddles, bubbly, and kisses at midnight. It's probably not the most exciting thing we could be doing, we definitely missed out on some shenanigans with our crazy friends, but it's exactly what I want: making memories with my kids and starting off the year with the most important people in my life.

Italy. We donned red undies for good luck. Felice Anno Nuevo.

The Philippines. We pulled on polka-dotted socks to honor our Filipino roots. Manigong Bagong Taon!

Denmark. We leapt from the couch, especially for Zia Rikke and Ulla. Godt NytÅr!

Japan. We rang a bell 108 times, each, to chase away 432 troubles. By that point, Riley was half asleep and we had to count for him. But he participated.

We feasted. We had pillow fights. And we all made it to midnight. Enjoy 2012. We certainly will.

We have a few more international traditions to complete this morning. Better get on it.

California International Airshow

On Friday I grudgingly joined my family and other friends at the California International Airshow. I silently expected to hate it, but when I'm wrong, I say it. I was wrong. We had a blast! I would definitely be up for going again next year.

The food was less than mediocre but the boys were thrilled to have fair fare. They noshed on one salty treat after another. Starting with corn dogs, progressing to hot dogs, pizza, nachos, and noodles...and ending with kettle corn. Yes, it's true; all of those passed through the lips of my usually deprived children.

Robosaurus and the Wall of Fire were definitely family favorites. What's not to like about a fire-breathing, car-crunching dinosaur robot?!?

Dylan's favorite was "Tora, Tora, Tora," the Air Force's recreation of the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor that signaled the beginning of the American involvement in World War II. Though it raised a stir in the Japanese-American community locally, it was designed as a living history lesson, intended as a memorial to all the soldiers on both sides who gave their lives for their countries, and was truly well-done.

The Canadian Forces Snowbirds dazzled with their aerobatics. I loved the Red Bull Air Force skydivers. And, by far, what got the most oooos and ahhhhhhs: the fireworks show.

The California International Airshow was great family fun. Count the Manns in for next year! 

Beer, Nachos, and Robosaurus

I know that it was all those years as an Air Force kid, but I have avoided airshows - successfully, I might add - for the past two and a half decades.

Every year, my parents take the boys and I hear about Robosaurus and the Wall of Fire...and all the really cool planes. "Don't you want to come next year, Mommy?" No, not really.

Well, this is the year I am not getting out of it. Brian saw that kids are free and thought it would be fun for us to all go. Family night out for $30, fireworks, Robosaurus, and the Wall of Fire.

Midly intrigued since we don't often have fireworks locally, I still tried to divert Pia for a girls' night out while the boys went to the airshow, but she kept reminding me: "FAMILY night, Cam. C'mon, let's go. Don't be a party-pooper." Fine.

I asked about dinner, they laughed at me. I am seeing beer and nachos in my future. But I will be there, with my family, earplugs in place, having a blast, I'm sure.

A Boy and His Mandolin

When my father-in-law asked Riley if he would play for his Great-Granny at her 80th birthday party, Riley didn't miss a beat, "That's fine," he assented confidently. But the morning of the party, he realized that he would be up in front of more than 300 people; when Poppa came back to get him, Riley's eyes were as big as saucers. I quickly suggested that Jake could go up there with him. Riley visibly relaxed, picked up his mandolin, and the three generations walked up to the front of the crowd.

Riley played three songs: Bach's "Bourrée in E minor", "Cripplecreek", and "Walk Don't Run." Classical, bluegrass, and surf-guitar. The boy showed his musical chops and definitely impressed some folks, not just with his ability, but with his composure. The only thing I can think, because he has never performed in front of that many people, is that he is so absorbed in his music that it really was just a case of "a boy and his mandolin." He didn't even see the 300 plus people.

And an added bonus to his performance, photographs, and Facebook: someone saw this photo who wrote in that that looked like her mandolin that she had given to Isaac years ago. I wrote her back and confirmed, yep, Isaac gave it to Riley. It's neat to know the history of the instrument.