All posts by Amok

blog, diversity, journalism, news, politics

Emil Guillermo: Check out my new blog on the AALDEF site…

It’s my privilege to associate with the  Asian American Legal Defense and Education Fund, in starting a new blog on Asian American issues and concerns. 

http://aaldef.org/blog/on-california-nikki-haley-and-identity-politics.html

I’ll still go “Amok” here, of course, but check out the blog and see what AALDEF is doing for the broader Asian American community.

This is the first time I’ve written under the masthead of a non-profit not focused strictly on journalism.  But just as I did on op-ed pages for other publications, AALDEF has given me the independence to post my opinions on the news as I see it. 

I hope you enjoy the posts there as much as you like the assorted posts here at Amok.com.

blog, sports

The San Francisco Giants parade and ceremony: Otherworldly

Any mass gathering like the Giants parade on Wednesday is all about size and color, to use John Stewart’s benchmarks.

Color? Orange and black, baby. But really, it was all colors. Is there a more diverse fan base in the universe. I saw blacks,Latinos, Asians, Filipinos, young, old, straight, gay, disabled.  (A Filipino woman in a wheelchair asked me to take a picture of the empty chair Tim Lincecum sat in).

It wasn’t an all-white or all male crowd. It was a living mirror of the Bay Area.

When it comes to size, the parade was Woodstockian. Half-a million strong? It moved and snaked, then settled at the Civic Center where to me it felt like the the Obama Inaugural–but about 60 degrees warmer.

The warmth, the love, the smiles. It was perfect for Giants fans. It was even good if you weren’t a Giants fan. People were just  happy. Work was stopped. Teachers played hooky. Muni was free

But the bottom line, after all these years, there was real joy in Mudville.

That wasn’t the general feeling of the day after a dismal mid-term election when the mandate of 2008 got neutered and the country was sent into a two-year phase of gridlock.

So I was looking forward to the spectacle as anti-dote. Sure enough, Gavin Newsom, who had real reason to celebrate the day after winning the Lt. Gov’s race, had the sense not to gloat and to recognize it was time for the politicians “to step out of the way to restore a sense of pride and joy to the city.” 

So why was Gov.Arnold Schwarzenegger there?  He was treated like a Dodger, naturally.And a politician. New governor, Jerry Brown, native son, and another victor from the night before, should have been there.

Then on came the Giants. They just had to walk on and stay awhile to bask in the crowd’s admiration.

Speeches? That’s the politicians’ downfall. Baseball players are not as articulate in front of the mike as you’d hope. They perform at genius level on the field. Far from great wits or raconteurs, they can lead a cheer,however. On this day gargantuan cheers were all that was necessary.

One by one the mike exposed the ordinariness of our champions.  So it was great that the speaking was kept short. Only Brian Wilson and his beard shtick sustained some interest.  Buster Posey was also thoughtful. He wanted to win it all again.

But Aubrey Huff knew what to say and do. He revealed his heralded rally thong.

I have issues about lucky underwear having had a few pair. I did wash mine during the World Series to the chagrin of  superstitious friends . I told them it’s lucky underwear. Not lucky dirt.

I was not close enough to check Huff’s hygiene. But he did produce the thong for all to see, our championship amulet.

When “I left my heart in San Francisco” played, it was all over, just  like it is after a game at the stadium.

People stayed on wanting more. These are tough times,after all.  True joy is in short supply.

But the Giants had left the stage and now it was time for the memories to take over.

blog

Emil Guillermo on the elections: And Boehner wept, but not like Meg….

On election night, John Boehner gave his speech assuming his new role as majority leader. He was talking about working in his dad’s tavern, and his lousy jobs through college. And he cried.

Me, I wanted to laugh. But censored myself.

Cut to CNN, and Anderson Cooper who asked rightward Mary Matalin what she thought of Boehner. She hesitated, then said something indicating her approval, something like “it was fabulous,” to which all the panelists LAUGHED.

Even  late in the night they could spot a phony.

And then I started to cry. No tears of joy, just sadness that this country was at a unique position these last two years and failed.  And was going back in reverse.

Boehner talked about working in his dad’s tavern.  I remembered standing in 15 degree cold two years ago observing the Obama Inaugural at the Washington Mall. What a feeling of potential. I saw people of all stripes, standing together, hopeful that a new leader would take us in the right direction. In his address, Obama did talk about creating a new politics that would end the divisiveness and bring Americans together in a time of crisis. As I stood in the cold as if arctic camping, his words gave warmth.

But as we found it’s tough to right a fallen war ship. Obama tried. Health care reform was historic. But there was still too many people out of work. Indeed, the poor were getting poorer and the rich were getting richer. Somewhat of an anomaly, no?

So now the GOP will have its time to move us in a different direction and everything will seem a little logical. It will be totally understandable how the rich will get richer and the poor will get poorer, unable even to get the lousy jobs Boehner cried over in his election night speech.

Get me to the Giants parade in San Francisco. I need a shot of positivity.

In California, things are happier. Brown is governor again. Boxer fended off Fiorina. And Meg Whitman is probably wondering if she could have built a domed stadium for the 49ers in her name with that $160 million cash she burned up in a vanity run for governor. 

At least it didn’t go up in smoke like George Soros’ cash that helped fuel Prop.19, the marijuana initiative. The billions in potential revenue not  enough to sway a majority. Prohibition is here to stay.

Besides, if it passed, what would the drug dealers do? Apply for government jobs?

blog, diversity, news, politics, sports

An American fairy tale for a struggling country: San Francisco Giants, 2010 World Series Champs

 As a long-suffering fan and San Francisco native, I tried to replicate the team’s joy when the Giants won it all.  I jumped on the person next to me (fortunately, my wife) and then poured champagne (a bottle from BevMo’s .05 sale) on my head.  Wet? No worries. I had that thick orange towel they handed out at World Series Game 1 to soak it all up.

What a season. What a championship. 56 years it took? That’s just about my entire life.

So I’m still in a Giants semi-stupor, though it’s wearing off fast as I turn on the news and get a taste of reality.

Mid-terms, the stuff that counts, the direction of this country.  It’s all bad.

It’s the reason we need the Giants.

I voted last week so I didn’t have to think about real life too much today. I didn’t want a mid-term implosion to get in the way of my Giants’ euphoria.

I know I can’t stay in my Orange haze for too long, but the Giants’ story is just what this country needs. It’s a story of optimism, hope and belief. It’s a story of what happens when we all hope for the same thing and pull together.  In many ways, it’s a perfect fairy tale for a country struggling to stay afloat, socially, economically.

The Giants’ weren’t exactly royalty at the beginning of the year. They had some great young arms, but no supporting staff. No pop, no power. This team wasn’t suppose to play in October, nevermind November.

But there they were, a team put together with a recession budget. GM Brian Sabean was like a guy at the pick and pull, looking for parts to build a champion racer. He had a list and a credit card limit. He had already overpaid badly for Zito and Rowand in previous years. And even Renteria got too much.  So the Giants didn’t have the dough to build a Yankee-like coupe.  Instead, they put together a team that could race to the last day of the regular season and to Game 5 of the Series.  Castoffs? They were all grinders. Every piece was necessary and had a moment to shine at some point in the season.

But no real stars. Why that’s no good for baseball, as one commentator suggested.

The Giants and baseball may have a hard time competing with the violence of football. But they are reflective of a recession-age champion. It’s excellence built-on a budget. A team of hope. A team that the chardonnay sippers could love, along side the blue-collar bleacher bums. I sat with both during the playoffs. 

 First off, there is no team that has as diverse a fan base as the Giants. You look at the crowd and it’s not all of one type.  That’s how you know it’s San Francisco. I sat next to a young Latino teamster from the Mission, a Caucasian  female business owner from Potrero Hill married to an Asian, a white professional couple from the Peninsula.  A Korean immigrant and his born-here son from the East Bay. What kind of entertainment/team attracts that kind of mixed demos?

And after every victory, I must have hi-fived several hundred strangers after every home-run, run scored, or ultimate victory. No Purelle necessary. We were Giants family.

That kind of teamwork on the field, a sense of unity, is what was special about this team and their ballpark. Over 43,000 a night coming together over a victorious championship run is not as trivial as it seems on first blush. 

I admit I felt the same way in the  AT&T  stands as I did when I stood in 15 degree temperatures two years ago in the Washington Mall for the Obama Inaugural. There was a real sense of unity and hopefulness that I  hadn’t seen or felt  in a long time. There was no divisiveness, just talk of working together, of a brand new kind of politics. There were cheers, parades, speeches.

It wasn’t a game nor entertainment. It was for real. Where did it go? 

That’s why I want to hold on to my Giants’ feeling as long as I can. Because after today, I know the real world is not going to feel so great.