Flying Home...

Like my flight to California, my flight home took me though Seattle. It was incredible to spot Mount St Helens, an active volcano that had a major eruption in 1980 (the most destructive volcanic eruption in US history). 

Even cooler was this view of Seattle. The domestic terminal was once again very busy, but luckily I spent most of my three-hour layover in the international terminal. It was much more boring, but also much less busy. I had my third and final clam chowder served in a sourdough bread bowl in the last two weeks. 

There were more passengers on my transcontinental flight this time, but it was still pretty empty with only six people in my section. Loved catching sunrise, something I don’t see often. 

Later that morning, I noticed contrails across the blanketed sky of clouds and thought that was pretty cool.

Once we were actually over Holland, I started noticing the bulb fields... 

…which became more prominent as we started descending. 

As we were landing, I wondered if this would be the only way that I’d be able to see the bulb fields, but luckily that wasn’t the case. 

Here’s the final shot I captured before landing at Schiphol. 

A few hours after Jimmy met me at the airport, he returned with Kati to greet Ashlynn, who flew in from Glasgow. It was the first time we’d seen her since October. Her lectures were all over, so rather than finish the term in Glasgow, she gave up her dorm room and took her finals from home.
 

Meanwhile in Holland...

While I was in the US, Jimmy and Veronica were able to visit Keukenhof Gardens under an experimental trial that offered a free COVID test to all the folks that were able to book tickets quickly enough. 

Jimmy had never been and Veronica had been little when she was there before, so they were thrilled to be able to go, especially during a time when there were so few tourists. They were thrilled to practically have the place to themselves within the last hour before closing.

Needless to say, Veronica took the opportunity to take some self-portraits. 

A few days later, Jimmy and Veronica took Kent and Carlin boating.

 

Colorful San Jose...

After dinner, we took a long walk to check out the urban art. Here are many of the murals that we spotted while walking around San Jose. Of course, this one of George Floyd was very powerful. 

These murals featuring girls were quite sweet.

This one was quite poignant, clearly referring to immigrants trying to reach the shores for asylum: Will our boat ever land?

These two photos are from one very large 140-foot long mural on the wall outside the Lido nightclub, funded partially by the nightclub as well as asset forfeitures obtained by the District Attorney’s office. Phylum of the Free, by an artist who teaches at UC Santa Cruz, underscores the contrast between Silicon Valley and the natural beauty of the world. 

These last few murals were particularly colorful. I was so happy to end my trip by spending time with Darlene and Mike.

 

Seeing Darlene and Mike...

On my last day in California, Darlene and Mike picked me up for an afternoon in San Jose. After dropping off my luggage at an airport hotel (to make things easy for my early flight the next morning) and taking me for my final COVID test (the Netherlands required two tests at the time, which was complicated and quite expensive), we spent a few hours wandering around downtown San Jose. 

After years of growing up and avoiding downtown San Jose due to its reputation of being dangerous, it was refreshing to walk around with no worries. 

Selfies are clearly not my strong suit, but that didn’t stop me from trying. 

This was taken near San Pedro Square Market, a nice food hall where we ate dinner. 

This five-story tribute to the late Supreme Court of Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg was by far my favorite artwork I saw during my trip. It was created by a former biomedical engineer turned artist.

If you look carefully, hopefully you’ll spot the three of us on the left and RBG on the right. 

 

Spotted in Menlo Park...

Here are a bunch of random things that I passed when on walks with Ann or walking on my own. Love this sign, but sad that some folks need a reminder that science is real. 

These were definitely the most interesting mailboxes I saw.

Saw quite a variety of Free Little Libraries.

Was especially impressed with the sayings on the sides of this one.

Bandits is an adorable sculpture of mischievous raccoons near the Menlo Park Train Station.

This was a first: a sign to tell dogs where it’s okay to pee. I’m sure that Kati can’t read, but perhaps California dogs are smarter. 
 

Wine Stories...

For our 5th wedding anniversary, Jimmy bought me 20 bottles of red wines from our wedding year, with the intent that we would drink one per year on our anniversary. The wine store sales clerk helped him to choose wines that could age over 20 years. When we moved overseas, we left the stash of wine behind at Steve and Carolyn’s in North Carolina. When they downsized a few years ago, they shipped the wines to Dad and Ann’s house. 

I figured it was time to finish off those wines—those that hadn’t gone very obviously bad that is. Leigh and Rich joined us for a pizza dinner one night and humored me by drinking a few of what might have once been great but were now just mediocre wines.

There were two additional bizarre wine experiences. The first was drinking this old Marilyn Monroe wine bought by Dad’s younger sister, who died several years earlier. It was pretty decent, but then I don’t have high standards and I love Marilyn movies.

More interestingly was coming across this old bottle of wine. On September 16, 1995, Jimmy and I were the witnesses for Sharon and Brett’s elopement in Idyllwild, California, in undoubtedly the most romantic wedding we’d ever attended other than ours. The following day, we took a long hike, during which Jimmy thought it would be fun to bury a bottle of wine in the forest for us to dig up years later. 

We all wrote messages on the label. I wrote: Opee made me do this. Of course, this predated smart phones and portable GPS, so how we could ever find the spot again was a mystery to me.

There were two important things that we didn’t take into consideration. One was that there was no soil; it was just solid rock. We made multiple stops for Jimmy to use his spade, but it was useless so we brought the bottle back to San Diego. I don’t remember why we didn’t just give it to Sharon and Brett. Instead that bottle moved with us to North Carolina, got left behind with our friends and then shipped to Dad’s. After storing it for over 25 years, the cork had completely rotted and the contents spilled. The second thing we learned is that a $9.99 bottle of wine can’t be stored for that long. Sadly, Sharon and Brett had planned to visit us in Holland to celebrate their 25th anniversary, but COVID derailed those plans. 
 

Sharing Old Times...

The evening after my jab, I drove to the home of Dad’s oldest friend, Arthur, whom he knew from MIT. It was the first time that I’d been to his and Suzanne’s home in Portola Valley since we had visited over 18 years ago during which Veronica had fallen into the pool after trying to step across the cover. 

It was a beautiful home...

…with an incredible garden...

…including a massive redwood tree.

I was thrilled that Michael and Sylvie were able to join us for dinner and reminiscing about Dad, including this hilarious story about Dad and Arthur negotiating with Hitachi senior management in Japan in the early 80s:

There was a contest to see who could eat and drink the most. While Joel was a big eater, I was less picky. When we were served raw horse meat (which I was familiar with from France), Joel said, “It’s a dog dick. I’m not touching that.” So, I ate it. Later we were served fermented squid guts that no one touched. Meanwhile, Joel switched from drinking sake to drinking shochu, also made from rice but with a higher alcohol content. The guy competing against Joel turned to me and said, “Jonathsan, Mr. Karp is trying to kill me.” The following day, the deals were all made to Joel’s specifications, and we were convinced it was because we won the contest.

Earlier in the week, Boyd, Dad’s first boss in California in 1966, paid me a visit. How special to be able to spend time with both of these men who knew Dad in professional capacities as well as being dear friends for decades.