Huang Family Newsletter, August 2011

Summer ended with a bang for the Huangs. We had lots of birthday parties, started a massive kitchen renovation project, and joined the YMCA. Amy stepped down to four days a week, which gives her some breathing room during the work week to catch up on sleep and errands. Lee picked up a slew of fun new gigs at his job. We concluded the month with our annual week-long vacation at Ocean City, New Jersey, where we crammed in lots of beach and boardwalk fun during the first half of the week when the weather was gorgeous, which more than made up for having to cut our vacation short by a day on account of a countywide Irene-related evacuation.

Childhood is Whizzing By

Even (especially?) on vacation, life can seem frantic when you have small kids. The week before was a whirlwind of packing, getting the kitchen ready for major renovations, and saying goodbye to two schools' worth of friends. Vacation itself carries its own stresses, from living in close quarters to forgetting to pack essential items to having your carefully calibrated schedule thrown off. (Even if it is with beach fun and ice cream on the boardwalk; not that anyone was complaining.)

My friend once said on a playdate, when our four kids were racing around getting into all sorts of trouble, "these are the best days of our lives, aren't they?" I laughed because he was dripping with sarcasm, but I have since then taken the statement to heart. These are good times: we're young, our kids are at a fun age, and we are blessed with material wealth and physical health.

I often say that our kids will never be this age again, since they only age in one direction. And yet to make the most of each day, especially for a fretful, future-oriented person like me, is like grabbing sand. Still, I try.

I recall a moment one night at Ocean City last week. We were at the boardwalk after a long, luxurious day in the hot sun on the beach. Pizza and ice cream in stomachs, we headed for the rides, and Jada and Aaron eventually settled on the carousel and the airplanes. As I watched them spin around and around, I took a moment to soak it all in. It was like a scene from a movie: the noises muffled, the scene slowed, and I thought about my kids. I love them, I think they're beautiful, and it is a fun age to see them go through.

I got a little sad, thinking that some day, they won't be this age, where they can just enjoy the innocence of laughing at each other as they whirl around and around. I said a prayer that they would find someone who would love them and with whom they could have kids, so they could experience the sweet joy I was experiencing in watching my two have the time of their lives. That, too, made me a little sad, thinking that my relationship with them will change a little as they make room for someone with whom they will build a new life together. And yet that letting go also was cause for happiness, because it would mean my work was done and I could watch from a safe distance as they found a new kind of joy and happiness.

Soon enough, the movie scene ended: the sounds returned to normal, and everything snapped back to regular time. The kids got off the ride, looked around, and smiled big once their eyes locked with mine. Tomorrow will come, but that day I was able to catch a moment and hold it, even if for just a moment.

Irene, a Good Barometer

Well, Irene came and went, and now we're picking up the pieces (for some of us, that is meant literally). My family made out pretty good in the grand scheme of things: basement's a little mustier than usual, and we lost power for minutes two nights ago, but otherwise no harm and no foul.

Because of their uncertain behavior and destructive potential, weather stuff like hurricanes and tornadoes is a pretty good barometer (sorry, pun intended) of where are hearts are, what we put our trust in, and (via social media) what we want people to know about where are hearts are and what we put our trust in. Thanks to the wonders of Facebook and Twitter, it's not hard to get a read on this. I could not help but sort people's reaction to Irene into one of the following categories:

* Prepared. Some chose to respond with mega-preparation, trusting in their ability to stock up and batten down.

* Informed. Some chose to read up on the meteorology, in order to anticipate Irene's path and consequences.

* Cynical. Some chose to accuse the media of drumming up a once-in-a-lifetime storm to boost ratings.

* Taunting. Some chose to dare Irene to give them her best shot.

* Worried. Some chose to air their concerns that their family members and properties were going to be in peril.

* Complaining. Some chose to air their frustrations about plans cancelled, travel modes rendered uncertain, and options limited.

* Dismissive. Some chose to reminisce about worser calamities they had survived.

Being an equal opportunity idolater, I harbored all such thoughts and then some during the before, during, and after of Irene. I wish I could say I ended up in a place of trusting God, but I'd have to say that sentiment was just one of many I cycled through during the whole ordeal.

Looking back, I hope that even if trusting God wasn't the dominant response I had, it will be the most lasting one. The image of God as both source of and salvation from such a mighty natural force is indeed a powerful one. Or, to use another metaphor as I did a few years back, God is sort of like the schoolyard bully you fear but then can trust on to protect you if he's on your side.

If indeed the fear of God is the beginning of wisdom, as it says in the book of Proverbs, then I've got a lot of wisdom left ahead of me. Weather or not, here's hoping we all get some wisdom from which to respond more appropriately to life's next big challenges.

Weather Update

Thanks to those who reached out to make sure we are OK. It's been quite a week here on the East Coast, between an earthquake and a hurricane.

Irene shooed us out of our Jersey Shore vacation a day early, and now it has us hunkered down indoors. Yesterday morning brought a flurry of outside activity in order to be safely sequestered now: did the grocery and drugstore runs, got Chinese food, and took the kids for one more swim at the Y.

Our cabin fever is somewhat lessened and somewhat magnified by the fact that we have been taking our meals up on our third floor: we are in the midst of a major kitchen renovation, so our stuff is in boxes, our fridge is still on the first floor, and we've moved our base of operations to the play area of our kids' floor, where there is a sink, counter space, and a table.

It's been fun to eat dinner together up there, even though the area is really cluttered, between all their toys and all our essential kitchen items (including microwave, coffee pot, and George Foreman griller). Whenever the electricity went out in California growing up, the Huangs would huddle up, read stories by flashlight, and sleep in sleeping bags to keep each other from feeling scared. So there's a little bit of coziness associated with weather-related adjustments to the usual home set-up.

Still, here's hoping Irene blows over soon. There's water everywhere, we're ready to resume our normal rhythms, and there are plenty in this city and other cities all up and down the East Coast who are in deeper water than us. In the meantime, we wait, somewhat unnerved by the feeling of helplessness as we are square in Irene's flight path, trusting in the God who is at once the source of and the protector from such an awesome natural force.

Beach Vacay

Today would've been our getaway day from our annual week-long vacation in Ocean City. But Irene had other plans. So we got away a day early. I've back-posted some pics and blurbs from each day's festivities at my Huang Kids blog. A good time was had by all.

The Other Lee

I got word earlier this month that a college friend of mine, Lee Shepski, had passed away. Lee was a significant influence on my life during the two years we overlapped at Penn and for several years thereafter. My freshman year he served as my spiritual mentor, tirelessly and faithfully instructing me, correcting me, ever so gently guiding me during my formative phase in the faith. He was also a good friend, with whom I share a lot of funny stories, intimate conversations, and fond memories.

Though I work hard to keep in touch with as many people as possible as often as possible, and though we have plenty of tools at our disposal to do so, it had been several months since we had chatted on the phone; we had planned to connect in Philadelphia but had to reschedule at the last minute, and never did find a time and place to meet up. He will be dearly missed by me and by so many others who had the fortune of intersecting with him. My deepest condolences and my prayers go out to his family.

NFL Predictions Guaranteed or Your Money Back

Lockout over. Crisis averted. Let the games begin. (Shhh . . . I still tape and watch the next morning, so no spoilers please.)

AFC: 1 Ravens 2 Patriots 3 Chiefs 4 Colts 5 Steelers 6 Chargers

NFC: 1 Eagles 2 Falcons 3 Packers 4 Rams 5 Saints 6 Buccaneers

WC: Chargers, Steelers, Packers, Saints

Div: Ravens, Patriots, Eagles, Falcons

SB: Eagles over Ravens

Lazy Linking, 53rd in an Occasional Series

What I liked lately on the Internets:

53.1. Groupon for employee perks.

53.2. British Columbia institutes a carbon tax increase and offsetting income tax decrease. The world doesn't end. [Hat tip: Greg Mankiw's blog.]

53.3. What does the Bible say should be the role of government in helping the poor? Stephen Landsburg and Kathleen Kennedy Townsend disagree.

53.4. Turning off the TV can prolong your life.

53.5. Just how wild is the wild? Science journalist Emma Marris argues that it is wilder than our pristine imagery of it.

53.6. Energy: where it comes from, where it goes. Nice visual. [Hat tip: Chart Porn.]

53.7. Taiwanese kid dunks on LeBron James. Ilha Formosa!

53.8. Yet another reason we need a word for "he or she" and another word for "him or her."

53.9. Bill Gates drops the knowledge on the future of energy.

53.10. Finally, not a current link but a blast from the past (which I may or may not have watched a dozen times in the past week): "Triumph," by Wu-Tang Clan.

The Only Solution is More Caring

The Caring Center is hosting its annual fundraiser gala at World Cafe Live on November 12, and their executive director asked me to serve on the planning committee. Given the transformative influence the place has had on both my kids, I was happy to oblige.

In the midst of so much that is confusing and scary and wrong about the world and city around us, the Caring Center shines as a positive example of the power of early education, caring professionals, and diversity. Contributions to the Caring Center really do make a difference, in the lives of families who have the opportunity to benefit from its care and instruction, as well as in the community as a whole.

Some of you may be hearing from me directly, to gauge your interest to receive a letter from the Caring Center discussing specific giving opportunities, but I also wanted to use this forum to solicit interest. If you have an interest in finding out more about how to write a check, get a ticket, buy an ad, or be a sponsor, please let me know in the comments or send me a direct message. Thank you in advance for your support of this great institution.

What's a Job For

Tom Friedman's column about why so much middle class foment (not surprisingly, it's because of globalization - haven't you read his last ten books?) got me thinking about different attitudes I've seen people harbor towards their jobs and towards employment in general. Please note that I am engaging here in rampant stereotyping on purpose, to prove a point; as I will point out later, hardly anyone is exactly these archetypes, but a blend of many. In no particular order:

1) Perfecting one's craft. Some see a job and a profession as a way to get really good at something, whether that something is designing a house, modeling the economy, or playing chess. The meta-reason may differ. For some, it is the glory to be the best in the field. For others, it is the inner satisfaction of achieving excellence. And for still others, it is the pleasure of the work itself.

2) Making a difference. Some see a job and a profession as a vehicle for effecting change in the world. Whether it is finding a cure for Alzheimer's, treating people in need, advocating for a cherished cause, these people are driven by the possibility of making the world a better place.

3) Maximizing financial gain. Some see a job and a profession as a means to material wealth. Within this category you might find a variety of folks. There are some for whom money is the scorecard and they are running up the score. There are some on the lower end of the pay scale, who are just doing their best to stay above water. And there are some whose true identity is outside of work and have optimized their earning potential so they have sufficient time and money for what really matters in their life (whether family, charity, or golf).

4) Being interesting. Some see a job and a profession as an avenue to build up great cocktail stories. Work is only worth doing if it is fun, new, and at times off the beaten path. This approach tends to lend itself to lots of different pursuits over a lifetime, ever in search of something different.

5) Sticking it to the man. Some see a job and a profession as an opportunity to work the system for personal gain. Society, government, and/or big business have failed, so the least we can do is extract from it a stable job requiring little effort, with good pay and great benefits. When we are successful at securing such a job, we feel the satisfaction of getting over on someone who's gotten over on us over and over again.

I'm sure I'm missing some categories (and I'm sure I've offended half of my readers with the ones I've accounted for). And, I'm not sure what point I'm making, except to reflect that I am an amalgam of all five, although you can probably guess which categories I’m more of and which I’m less of. In these tough times, those of us who have jobs should and do take a moment to be thankful for them, regardless of how we view employment.

The Other Neighborhood Schools in My Neighborhood

Penn Alexander has commanded all the attention in these parts, what with anxious parents now lining up 24 hours ahead of 1st grade registration ever since it was announced earlier this year that even 1st grade wasn't guaranteed to families living in the school's catchment area. Heck, I was walking my daughter to school just as they were letting these anxious parents in the door, and so I snapped a photo and posted it on my Twitter and Facebook pages, and four friends sympathetically responded to see if I had made it in. (Kindergarteners automatically get 1st grade spots, so we're good.)

To be sure, with one more I need to get in, and with the school having such an influence on property values and parental psyches around here, Penn Alexander is prominent in my thoughts and prayers. But my morning run yesterday reminded me there are other schools that warrant thoughts and prayers.

Since we joined the Y last weekend, I've decided to make a detour at the end of my outdoor runs a couple of times a week to quickly pump some iron before heading home and getting the kids up. Though the slow jog home is only six or seven blocks in length, I passed by three schools: the new West Philadelphia High School, the old West Philadelphia High School, and Lea Elementary School.

I have fond memories of the latter two, having spoken or tutored in them in my twenties. And, should there be no room for Aaron at Penn Alexander starting next year, he'll likely end up at Lea. So I have a personal connection to these places, more than just their close proximity to my home and my gym. And I know hundreds of other parents have just as much a tie or more to these schools as places where their kids are educated, make friends, or get into trouble, as the case may be.

So let's keep an eye on all the news about Penn Alexander. But, when you see a story, say a prayer for West and Lea as well, for they need it too.

Crazy Day in the Life

What the heck, here's a random "day in the life" from earlier this week for your reading pleasure:

4:00a - Two alarms go off. But you know, my best sleep is after this happens.

4:45a - Ugh. Was thinking I would snooze 10 to 15 more minutes, not 45. Up, look at Bible memory verses, read from Revelation, pray, journal.

5:15a - Exercise clothes on, out the door. I cut my normal route short because I'm making a significant detour in the opposite direction to hit the Y for some quick lifting.

6:00a - I'm one of a gaggle of exercisers greeting the door-opener at the Y. I'm in and out in about 15 minutes, partly because I'm just getting back into lifting and partly because I want to get home before the kids are up.

6:20a - Arrive home to the kids already chattering, and Amy getting a load of laundry in before she leaves for work. Stretch, cool off, shower, suit on.

7:00a - Amy's out the door, I'm feeding myself and the kids breakfast, and then they brush their teeth and get ready for school while I clean up in the kitchen.

7:50a - Walk down the street to drop off Jada at her school, then Aaron and I hoof it two blocks and just make our first bus. We take it a mile, walk a block, pick up a second block for another half-miles, and then walk another three blocks to Aaron's school.

8:50a - I double back to my neck of the woods to meet a colleague for coffee to talk business.

9:50a - I race to the subway stop, grab the Market Frankford line to City Hall, transfer to the Broad Street line, and get off in North Philadelphia. According to my schedule, I have one minute to catch my bus to my meeting place. I race up the steps, and promptly trip on the top step. My momentum (and a heavy work bag) carry me several feet forward before I finally fall flat on my face. Jeers ensue. I dust myself off, resume my fast clip, and make it to the bus stop with seconds to spare.

10:30a - Productive meeting. It adjourns with only ten minutes before my conference call, so I decide to take it in the building lobby, since I won't be able to get back to my office.

1:00p - Productive meeting. As the phone call wraps up, I start walking to my bus stop to save time. I catch the bus to the Olney Station and am soon back in Center City. I ask my staffers, who I am supposed to meet with, for a half-hour to eat lunch before we talk.

2:00p - Mmmm, warmed-up leftovers plus Ken Ken.

2:30p - Meet with staffers over one of my projects.

3:00p - Meet with boss over another of my projects.

4:00p - Meet with staffers over yet another of my projects.

4:45p - Ack, I had expected Amy to pick up Aaron but now she can cannot as she has an emergency at work. Not sure what is more distressing: having to wrap up my meeting so I can catch all my buses, or trying to imagine what "emergency" means when your work place is a prison.

5:00p - The first of my three buses arrives just in time, and I make all my connections and get all my kids.

6:00p - Our contractor is waiting for us on our front porch. We're getting major work done on our kitchen, so he wants to go over everything before he starts ripping stuff out and ordering stuff. I take turns feeding the kids and knocking out outstanding topics.

7:00p - Amy arrives home just in time to settle some loose issues. Our contractor leaves, I clear out the kitchen and grab a bite for myself, and Amy bathes the kids and reads them bedtime stories.

7:30p - I join them, say my goodnights, and then take a hack at packing up sections of the kitchen, while Amy tends to laundry.

9:00p - My contractor and I email about some last-minute items.

10:00p - I go to bed, wired. It's been a crazy week.

Y Yes

Well, after joining on Saturday, even a torrential downpour couldn't keep the Huangs away from their new free place to go for fun. We weren't there for long, and only partook of the pool, but it was a fun family time nonetheless. Amy swam laps while I watched the kids putter around in their swim vests and fun noodles, and then Amy took a break while I banged out a few laps of my own. The kids were unbelievably happy and cute, which made just watching them just fine for a Sunday afternoon activity. Plus swimming just relaxes me like nothing else, between the good ache of the cardio and the silence of being underwater.

I have a feeling we'll be wearing out our membership cards out real good. After all, as we were leaving, Jada asked, "Can we live here?" And when we replied that we couldn't, she replied, "Well, can we come back again tomorrow?"

Why the Y

The sweltering summer heat has warmed us to the exhortation of our friends who are members of the local swim club to also join. My wife has been looking for a gym to join to get her swim on, since it seems every time she runs she sustains a serious injury. The kids are ready for some extra-curricular activities, like soccer and basketball and ballet and hip-hop. And I have been contemplating something to spice up my long-standing exercise cycle of running, biking, push-ups, and sit-ups. What to do, what to do?

Enter the Y. That would be the YMCA, of course. And, voila, it is the answer to all of our questions. Membership gets you year-round pool privileges, at well below the price of the local swim club (which is only open during the summer). The pool closes at 9 on weekday evenings, leaving Amy plenty of time to get some laps in after the kids go to bed but well before her bedtime. There's a full complement of classes for Aaron and Jada, which I have marked down for the next 12 months, plus some free adult classes Amy is intrigued by. (Pilates? Spinning? Sure, why not?) And I'll be able to add swimming and lifting to my workout routine. (Heck, I could even play pick-up hoops, something I haven't done in years. Well, maybe not; at my age, I'm bound to pull or twist something.)

I think there's something homey about joining the Y. The local swim club's annual dues are jaw-dropping, Amy's other gym choice (on the Penn campus) would have been jam-packed with young and beautiful Penn kids, and a lot of the other extra-curricular options we looked into for our kids seemed a little snooty. The Y, on 52nd and Chestnut in the heart of West Philadelphia, is a lot less high-brow, without being too ghetto. For some reason, joining the Y, signing our kids up for classes, and getting involved in the community there feels a little like something the Huxtables would do: good, clean fun, not too pretentious, and not too scuzzy.

In other words, just about right for the Huangs, circa 2011. Although should Aaron or Jada quickly demonstrate star potential in sports or performance, you best believe we will be pulling them out in a minute and getting them in whatever is the premier academy for that activity. Just kidding. (Or am I?)

School Choice

There's a petition circulating in print and online, about impelling the local school district to let in all kids who reside within the catchment area of my daughter's elementary school, the highly coveted Penn Alexander School. (Earlier this year, the district announced it could no longer necessarily guarantee spots.) You'd think I'd be all over this: I'm rabidly pro-education, we had a fantastic first year experience with Jada, I've got one more I need to get in, and the lack of guarantee would gut the local real estate market and depress the value of the number one asset on my balance sheet. If anyone has a self-interest in this petition, it's me, right?

I'm not so sure. First of all, who says I necessarily have to vote in my self-interest? All the talk about how people are unwilling to sacrifice their own kids for the greater good somewhat disappoints me. For one, if we all with resources and power do this, then the status quo never changes, which might be fine if you're fine, but not so fine if either you're not fine or you actually give a crap about those among you who aren't fine.

(Apologies for once again being cynical about people being good-hearted but then pulling this line when the chips are really down, like when it comes to their own kids' well-being. I'm not saying there shouldn't be limits to how much you should sacrifice, but in the aggregate if we all act this way then no real meaningful change happens, and all we're left with is that when push comes to shove, we take care of our own and screw those who are disenfranchised and under-resourced.)

Furthermore, it's not like the choice is so binary, as if being in Penn Alexander is gravy and everything else is crap. Schools matter, don't get me wrong; but involved parenting and shrewd organizing trump all. Yes, I am saying you can have your cake and eat it, too: take a stand for the right thing and make sure your kid turns out OK. Heck, many of my most admired parent friends home-school, so if they can raise healthy kids with zero help from a school, how is it impossible to raise healthy kids in conjunction with a school? (By the way, Lea Elementary, the overflow school Aaron would end up at if we can't get him into Penn Alexander, is turning into a pretty good school, thanks in part to the involvement and effort of parents who probably would have preferred to send their kids to Penn Alexander but have decided to make the best of Lea, and they are making it happen. I fail to see how this is anything but a really awesome outcome in the grand scheme of things.)

Second, and this speaks to a bigger pet peeve of mine, every action has an equal and opposite reaction. By the way, this truth is why I'm a fiscally conservative and generally libertarian Republican. It may sound good to say that the solution to a problem of scarcity is for the government to compensate for the scarcity, but there's no free lunch: you have to pay if you're going to provide something, and the providing of the something may in fact be not as good as you think (or, even worse, you might do harm).

In the case of increasing enrollment at Penn Alexander, I'm not sure it's a slam-dunk that you can add 50 to 100 (or more) more slots without diluting quality. Keep in mind that the school is already at 50 to 100 (or more) more than it was originally conceived to hold. (Remember, I still have one child who's on the outside looking in, so I'm not coming from the mindset of "I'm in the castle already, time to pull up the drawbridge and leave everyone else out.") At some point, there's a drop-off in quality, and it may not be slight. I'm not saying this is certain or even likely, just that it's possible and therefore must be taken into consideration.

All of this is not to suggest that I won't eventually sign the petition, or root for its requested outcome, or even take more action to help make it happen. I'm just offering that every action has a cost and a consequence, and as a parent and a citizen, I'm still weighing which way is in my interest and in my neighborhood's.

Yeast Infection

"Your boasting is not good. Do you not know that a little leaven leavens the whole lump of dough? Clean out the old leaven so that you may be a new lump, just as you are in fact unleavened. For Christ our Passover also has been sacrificed. Therefore let us celebrate the feast, not with old leaven, nor with the leaven of malice and wickedness, but with the unleavened bread of sincerity and truth." - 1 Corinthians 5:6-8

In this sex-soaked society, it is easy for us Christians to want to grade ourselves on a curve - so long as we avoid the blatant sexual sins, we reason, we're doing alright. Alas, this is one area - perhaps the most worrisome area - in which we take neither the corrosive nature of sin nor the great cleansing power of God seriously enough. And our lives, our leadership, our relationships, and our sense of self are impaired as a result.

It is specifically about sexual sin that Paul is speaking when he uses the analogy of yeast leavening a whole loaf of bread. A practice of wandering eyes or a stray thought that is allowed to play out may seem harmless, just as yeast seems so inconsequential as a stand-alone ingredient. And yet just as a little yeast soon permeates something far larger, so our allowing of sexual sin to linger in our lives can lead to ruin in our body and in our dearest relationships. If we realized how much influence even the smallest infection can have, we would not let it linger like we do.

On the flip side, some of us feel so infested in this area that we cannot fathom being, in Paul's words, "a new lump." We resign ourselves instead to making the most of our old, yeast-leavened lump, not fully believing God can make us anew in this and all other areas. If we let sin linger and in doing so make God and His warnings smaller than they are, so do we make God and His mercy smaller than they are if we think sin cannot be excised from us.

Wherever you are, I hope you will consider Paul's simple but powerful analogy of yeast and bread. Individually, corporately, and as a generation, let's make a new lump, and in doing so bring honor to our God and bring purity to our bodies, our thoughts, our relationships, and our society around us.

Dear John

I am several months into working through "The Message," Eugene Peterson's contemporary English translation of the Bible, in my morning devotional times. It hasn't been as good as the last time I did this six or seven years ago. The more modern tone of the chapters just hasn't grabbed me, and I've found myself looking over at a more traditional translation to get a sense of what I've just read. In Peterson's version, the drama and the wonder of the gospels, and the force and desperation of Paul's letters, are lost a little because of the more casual tone. Even though I know the Bible was originally written in this breezier style, I'm having trouble deriving substance out of my morning readings lately.

But the John letters have been different. John's fatherly concern yet forthright tone is captured nicely in Peterson's words. I find myself almost snuggling up to the chapters, warmed as they are with John's gentleness and firmness, and represented lovingly by Peterson. I'm not sure if this has more to do with where I am and what I need, but the shift in the mornings has been noticeable.

Within weeks, I'll be through the John letters, done with Jude and Revelation, and back to a more traditional version of the Bible. Six or seven years from now, when I do this all over again, I'll be interested to know whether it is the John letters, or something else, that grabs me.

Lazy Linking, 52nd in an Occasional Series

Stuff I liked on the Internets:

52.1. I swear that a day before this piece by Tom Verducci came out, I made the same point to a co-worker. My self-esteem boost is offset by the despair surrounding another disappointing season by the A's and by the dread that Moneyball the movie will seem dated and anticlimactic when it comes out.

52.2. Kevin Durant goes bonkers at Rucker, and the fans go bonkers in response.

52.3. This article - about how technology has made this a golden age for introverts - is so spot on and so me. Especially the "serial communication" part.

52.4. Take that, New York (the Sequel). Wall Street Journal points out that with first Cliff Lee and now Nnamdi Asomugha spurning the Big Apple for the City of Brotherly Love, Philly outmaneuvering its bigger neighbor to the north no longer qualifies as news.

52.5. Speaking of New York and Philly, Philly seeks its own High Line Park . . . and has a site in mind to build it.

52.6. Open source software for mapping where trees are, courtesy of my colleagues at Philadelphia-based Azavea.

52.7. Did you know that a transportation engineer would find the Ewing Theory completely logical? [Hat tip: Marginal Revolution.]

52.8. "Because you can't exactly stimulate job growth if you're slashing $3 trillion in federal spending, essentially removing all of that money from the economy." Say what? Does this guy realize that cutting spending doesn't mean removing it from the economy, it means putting it back in the pockets of current and/or future taxpayers?

52.9. Shout-out to past and present staff and entrepreneurs at The Enterprise Center for being three of the 20 Philadelphia Business Journal Minority Business Leaders Awards recipients.

52.10. You can't write a check to Target until you've first written a check to Target. Got that?

A Good Night Out in University City

Just earlier this week I posted about a pleasant evening out socializing with neighbors at the National Night Out block party on the street next to ours. Last night, with Amy working late, I decided to take the kids out again, this time to University City District's monthly "Baltimore Avenue Stroll." It was a pleasant walk from Jada's school to the Indian restaurant on 42nd and Baltimore (lassis and samosas for a dollar!), and then for ice cream at Milk and Honey on 45th and Baltimore, and finally home.

All told, we couldn't have been out for more than an hour, and yet we got a chance to intersect with so many people. We ran into friends of ours from church, friends from Jada's school, friends from my old work place, one of my former consulting clients, and three different sets of neighbors from down the street. We even got a gander at Philadelphia's first parking lot park, at 43rd and Baltimore (see photo), also courtesy of University City District. Even with all the hullaboo, we were home in time for bedtime. That's a good night. I defy you suburbanites to cram that much fun and that many conversations into one hour on a school night.

Small Group, Big City, Small World

One of the things I like about living where we live and going to church where we go is that it is not hard to see fellow congregants outside of the usual structure settings. Since many of us live within walking distance of each other, it is not hard to get together for family dinners, and it is not uncommon to bump into friends at the drug store or on the street.

Sure enough, during a summer in which we have actually not been able to see our closest church friends that often, due to conflicting schedules, I bumped into not one but two of the three families in our small group on the same day. In the early evening, one mom and her son were walking down the street as Jada and I were heading home, and we exchanged conversation and prayer requests before proceeding on our respective ways. Later that evening, we attended a block party down the street for National Night Out (see photo) and caught up with our other friends and their three kids over hot dogs and water ice.

I left the evening no longer feeling nearly as distant from my dear brothers and sisters as a result of these random encounters. We may live in a big city, but it acts like a small world sometimes.

Still Committed

Twenty years ago this month I was baptized at Canaan Taiwanese Christian Church with two of my friends. It might have been the only time in my dad’s life he attended a church service; he and my mom were there to see the ceremony and hear me speak of why it was I was making this faith choice. It seems like a long, long time ago, and it was: I’ve had more life since that day than before that day.

But while my understanding of what it is I was assenting to in that ceremony may have evolved since then, it is still the same faith, the same God, the same meaning. I’m not enough of a theologian to school you on what it means, but even on a shallow level, you can easily see that it signifies a public declaration of commitment. It was a commitment I was ready to make after a couple of years of wrestling with what it meant.

And it is a commitment I stand ready to affirm each day in the present and into the future. Thanks be to God, for calling me to Himself and for continuing to replenish that call. And thanks be to many, so many, along the way, who have helped me, modeled for me, walked with me, carried me, so that I could keep on responding affirmatively to that call.

Huang Family Newsletter, July 2011

We're doing some major work on our house, including a kitchen remodel and exterior paint job, so a lot of our weekends have been devoted to picking things out and keeping the trains on schedule rather than to going out and having fun. But we did enjoy our nephew Nathan's 2nd birthday party in New Jersey, our usual run of historical sites, a birthday party in Mt. Airy, and an afternoon by (and in) the lake at my boss' house for Lee's company's annual picnic.

Amy continues to recuperate from her leg injury; no more boot, but she still has to take it easy for a few more weeks. Lee has a full plate of projects at work, including new gigs in Florida, Canada, and North Carolina.

Famine in East Africa

News of famine in East Africa overwhelms and offends the mind. How we get our heads around the fact that millions of children are at risk of death by starvation? What can we possibly do in response to so great a need at so great a distance? Given that some of the problem is structural - outside aid being kept away or siphoned off - what hope is there that our help will even make a difference?

May I offer two possible ways in. Both involve grassroots efforts that are small enough that our tiny contributions can make a big difference, but that are set up to take those tiny contributions and grow something sustainably impactful over time.

First, yesterday, I wrote about my friend Stella's ministry, Fruit of the Vine International, which supports orphanages in East Africa and focuses its giving on high-leverage sustainable projects like poultry farming and water well building. I encourage you to give through this entity.

I also commend to you Christian Aid Mission, which I have supported since the mid-1990's and which I have written about a fair amount in this space. About a year ago, I told you I was taking a yearlong break from contributing to this ministry, and a couple of weeks ago I called them up to resume supporting them. As before, they will deploy my money to an orphanage in Kenya, and my $100 monthly contribution will provide for four of the kids there. (As with Fruit of the Vine, Christian Aid Mission supports ministries run by the locals, which keeps costs down considerably.)

It doesn't take a long look at the expenditures in our own lives to find $300 a year to divert to relief and development in places of great need. Five years ago, I had written about some things we can go without to scrounge up the cash to support the orphaned of the world, and though we are all probably feeling the pinch more now than when I wrote that post, the need in the world is also far greater, due in part to rising food and energy prices and to more severe weather patterns.

The two most repeated commands in the Bible are to love God and to care for the poor. If, like me, you are following the situation in East Africa with a sense of bewilderment and powerlessness at the sheer size of the crisis, there are at least two good organizations out there, that are about loving God and caring for the poor, where you can get involved to help chip away at the problem. Do consider doing this.