Patient in my Circumstances

In a wheelchair this ride would have been perfect.

My outpatient procedure was scheduled from 6 a.m. to 8 a.m., and, because general anesthesia would be used, the clinic would not allow me to drive home. Coincidentally, for the first time ever, I couldn't hitch a ride with anyone because of various calendar conflicts.

No problem, I told them, I'll just take a cab or Uber or Lyft. That won't do, they said, you will have to use a licensed medical transportation company.

And so it was that I Uber'ed to the appointment at a cost of $18 plus tip and hired a medical van to take me back for $100. The vehicle was equipped for wheelchair passengers and was overkill for a patient in my circumstances.

I could work myself into a lather about liability insurance, government regulations, and one-size-fits-all safety requirements. Cultivating an attitude of gratitude is better: I have the means to pay the bill, and the procedure was quick. Besides, anger often hurts the person expressing it as well as its object.

The driver made sure I got to the front door okay. There's a reason there are a dozen businesses like his in the area, and some day I may genuinely need his services.

Health Check-up

(GIF from rebloggy)

I was prepared to make excuses. The doctor wanted me to lose five pounds, and I was doing so well until the lockdown.

For the past four months I sat at home, watching TV, web-surfing, and snacking. I walked 3-4 miles every day until my knee started hurting, so I stopped. The gym is shut down, and my ancestors gave me the gene for arthritis.

It's not my fault.

The doctor read aloud the blood test results. Triglycerides and blood sugar had improved, but LDL ("bad") cholesterol was higher. He raised the atorvastatin dosage to 20 mg per day. The painful knee was probably the beginning of arthritis, so he ordered an X-ray to make sure.

For the first time in years I didn't have to go on a diet, and I haven't yet crossed the line to diabetes. We scheduled an appointment for next July, another sign of optimism. All in all it was a good session.

What We Signed Up For

It's the week before Thanksgiving, which meant it was time to take food boxes to CALL Primrose in Burlingame. CALL Primrose is a Methodist and Presbyterian joint venture that has been dispensing food since 1983.

Last year, CALL Primrose was able to serve over 27,000 individuals in need by directly providing more than 51,000 bags of groceries.

Unlike 2018, when our parish was swamped with donations, we were only able to deliver the four boxes we signed up for.

The ladies at the CP office were grateful. Exceeding our commitment would have been nice, to be sure, but not more important than honoring it. It's a good rule for charity and life; don't make a lot of promises, but keep the ones you do make.

CALL Primrose

Processing receipts a week before Thanksgiving

In 2017 we signed up for and delivered four boxes to the CALL Primrose fill-a-box-feed-a-family Thanksgiving food drive.

This year we committed to four containers again and were overwhelmed with offers to help. We delivered nine (9) boxes this afternoon.

It will be tempting to commit to, say, six boxes next year, but we'll have to think about it.

When the demands increase, charity ceases to be a joyous activity and becomes an obligation (yes, many traditions view charity as a moral obligation, but specific deliveries at a time and place feel like a secular debt).

Besides, it's always better to under-promise and over-deliver.

The Meaning of Charity

Our four boxes (marked) were passed out later that day.

Yesterday I dropped off four boxes of non-perishable food at CALL Primrose, a Burlingame food-outreach venture founded by the Presbyterian and United Methodist churches.

It was a few days after the deadline, but the items were gratefully received nevertheless. The bright side of my tardiness was that (previous years' posts are here, here, and here) I was there for the Thanksgiving food distribution. Clients had filled out a form months earlier and received a claim ticket; from the carefulness with which they removed it from their wallets it was something precious to them.

Donating food boxes requires some organization, because CALL Primrose has standardized the contents ("Please stick to the list to ensure all boxes we distribute are the same"). Our parishioners check off the items on the list stapled to each box, and I complete the unfilled items (this year we were 15 cans/packages short). For the record each box contained:

2 cans (15 oz) yams

1 bag (16 oz) mini marshmallows

2 cans (15¼ oz) corn

2 cans (14½ oz) green beans

2 cans (14½ oz) fruit (any fruit or fruit cocktail)

1 can (14 oz) cranberry sauce

1 box (6 oz) stuffing mix

1 box (13-14 oz) instant mashed potatoes

1 jar/can (12 oz) chicken/turkey gravy

1 box (8 ½ oz) cornbread / muffin mix

1 bottle (48 oz) vegetable cooking oil

1 bag/box (16 oz) pasta

1 can/bottle (20 oz) pasta sauce

1 box (5 oz) chocolate jello pudding/pie mix

1 no-bake graham cracker pie crust, and

1 can (14 oz) condensed milk.

CALL Primose' Thanksgiving and similar activities have often made me contemplate the meaning of charity. I could write (or ask the church to write) a check for, say, $100 a box and ask CALL Primrose to buy the supplies, which they have said they would be happy to do. That would save me the time of making the announcement, assembling the boxes and posting a list on each, counting and backfilling the inventory, and transporting the containers to Burlingame. Against this personal cost is the benefit of group participation, especially by our children, in helping others in our community.

Such an analysis is not that simple; inputs should include the valuation of my personal time and the amount of my net worth. For example, if both were very high I could pay a teenager say, $20 an hour, to do everything. The solution would be win-win-win (CALL Primrose, the teenager, and me), yet I have a feeling that I'm missing something.

Well, too many brain cells have already been expended on what should be a simple act of charity. I'll just keep doing the same thing every year until I can't do it anymore.

An Auspicious Start to the Season

Two months after our last drop-off, we took five (5) Thanksgiving food boxes to CALL Primrose, the Burlingame food pantry founded by the Methodist and Presbyterian churches.

We had signed up for four, but the church members filled five complete containers and even had some extra cans for the store room upstairs. The Parish will be asked to dig deep for four other charities in December, and the annual fill-a-box campaign for CALL Primrose was an auspicious start to the season.

A Relief All Around

The new (walls will be decorated)

The collections box that the church had set out at the beginning of summer had been filled with dry and canned foods, and it was time to deliver them to CALL Primrose.

The interior is undergoing an overdue renovation. The 1st-floor office space and 2nd-floor food storage are switching places; volunteers were always running up and down the stairs to fill the bags of food to be distributed to hungry Bay Area residents. Some leaders had talked about building a dumbwaiter, but practical heads prevailed.

Nov 2015: the old desks, now upstairs

In a couple of weeks Peninsula organizations will begin collecting food boxes for Thanksgiving, the busiest time of the year for CALL Primrose.

Yes, it's a bit puzzling how, in the midst of one of the wealthiest areas of the world--and with the prevalence of government and private food programs--that people are still going hungry. But the vast majority of clients are not pulling a fast one over the system, according to CALL Primrose and other charities that I trust.

So we don't waste time judging whether the supplicants are deserving or not and try to help everyone who asks. It's a relief all around.

Dropping Off the Supplies on a Friday Morning

We brought the gift cards and food boxes to CALL Primrose when it opened at 9 a.m.

Activity was already starting to pick up; three people were waiting in line for groceries. One of the volunteers helped us unload the car. The office appeared better organized than on previous drop-offs. Bill showed me the upstairs storage room, which was stacked to the ceiling with donated food.

Never again will I lament my own difficulties with inventory.

Counting the Cans

Imbalance: 2 muffin mixes needed, while we had excess
pasta, cans of tomatoes, and stuffing

Thanksgiving is next week, which meant it was time to drop off food at CALL Primrose. Our church had signed up for four boxes, each containing sixteen (16) specified items. I took inventory; we were short a couple of packages of corn-muffin mix, which were purchased with five $20 gift cards on a trip to Safeway.

Shopping is easy. Inventory is hard.

Inventory for your humble accountant always has been one of the most challenging, if mundane areas of accounting. Whether there's a computerized or handwritten list, it always has to be checked against the physical inventory.

Shortfalls occur because of mistakes, defalcation, or shrinkage. (Too bad shrinkage in other areas can't be remedied by a trip to Safeway.)

Hospital Construction on the Peninsula

The new hospital rises next to the radiology building.

We thought that the $618 million Mills-Peninsula Medical Center was an impressive facility, but the $2 billion new Stanford Hospital, scheduled to open in 2018, promises to raise the ante on health care on the Peninsula.

Our various medical conditions have occasioned visits to Mills-Peninsula, Stanford, and Sequoia Hospital, which has recently completed its own construction project.

Wealthy benefactors (foundations, endowments, individuals), prosperous corporations that are willing to pay for premium medical plans, and the availability of medical and research talent are the prime movers behind the explosion of construction. This is one arms race that we're lucky to be living next to.

But for the Grace of God

Every spring we drop off boxes of food at CALL Primrose.

On Friday the office was noisy; volunteers, recipients, and supplies crowded against each other in the small Burlingame office.

One lady waited patiently for a 10-pound bag of rice. At another desk I saw a family submit an application for services.

Having had a tough week, I left the offices with the usual feeling: my life ain't so bad.

Never Been Stronger

Yana, Terri, and deliveryman

The church had filled eight (8) food boxes each with the requested 15 items, and, with a week to go before Thanksgiving, I returned to the Bay Area in time to deliver them to CALL Primrose.

When I walked through the door at the Burlingame office, I was greeted by a familiar face. Yana A., who had been an IT specialist at our former employer, was now volunteering at the call center. Yana introduced me to new Director Terri Boesch; Mary Watt had retired in May.

CALL Primrose has been providing food, emergency financial assistance and other services to Peninsula families since 1983. Unfortunately, business has never been stronger.

Easter Drop-Off

No room on the floor: we stacked the boxes on chairs.

Today we made our annual drop-off of Easter food boxes at CALL Primrose. (CALL Primrose, a partnership between the Methodist and Presbyterian churches, renders aid to less fortunate families on the Peninsula and has been in operation for over 30 years.)

Each box contained:

1 package pasta
1 box instant mashed potatoes
1 box muffin or bread mix
1 box flavored rice, e.g., Rice-a-Roni.
1 box macaroni & cheese
1 can tomatoes
1 can soup
2 canned vegetables (one green, one not)
2 cans fruit
1 small bottle cooking oil
2 cans beans (refried, kidney, black, etc.)
1 $20 Safeway gift card

It may seem that a modest container of food would have a small impact, but CALL Primrose says that the boxes make a big difference to each family that receives one. It's trite but bears repeating: we can't save the world, but we can feed a family for a day.

It's Time

Director Mary Watt (left) oversees
organized chaos during Thanksgiving

Food Stamp allotments have been cut this month (the conservative justification is that spending had more than doubled in the past five years) and many Americans are facing hardship.

Let the people in Washington re-hash old arguments. It's time for liberals who say they want to help the hungry to step up. It's time for conservatives who decry government inefficiency to step up.

One Bay Area organization that gives direct aid to the poor and operates on a shoestring is CALL Primrose. This week our church doubled its contribution of Thanksgiving food boxes and will double its commitment for Christmas.

It's time for deeds, not words. © 2013 Stephen Yuen

Not the Target Demographic

The colombarium at St. Paul's

On a peaceful Saturday seventy mostly gray-haired students gathered at St. Paul's in Burlingame to acquire the tools and knowledge, not to mention courage, to help them accomplish their spiritual goals.

Why "courage"? Episcopalians are notoriously reluctant to discuss their faith, much less try to convert others. Yet, there's no alternative to evangelism if the Episcopal Church is to survive the century. Current membership of two million is roughly half the size of the church in its heyday.

There were short courses on prayer, lectoring, and evaluating grant requests. We could learn how to improve stewardship campaigns and how to be a better witness. For the more esthetically oriented, there were sessions on music, art projects, and theology in film. All very interesting, and I intend to sign up again next year. But there were only a handful of attendees under 30, and unfortunately I'm not the target demographic. © 2013 Stephen Yuen

The Primrose Path

Seth and Mary 

Our Foster City parish had been donating two boxes of food each year to the CALL Primrose Easter "Adopt-a-box" program, and the kids, emboldened by success, decided to spend Friday night assembling 3-5 boxes of food for the Holiday drive.

They and their parents got into the spirit of the activity and filled eight boxes, which we took up to Burlingame on Tuesday morning.

The small office on Primrose Avenue hummed with activity as recipients filed out with brimming shopping bags. We set the Holiday boxes down in a corner and watched the volunteers process requests. The Second Harvest Food Bank provides more than half of the food that CALL Primrose distributes. (Degrees-of-separation moment: Executive Director Mary Watt and I discovered that each of us had worked with the SHFB CEO.)

The local economy is recovering, but there are too many people left behind. We can't improve their circumstances, but through CALL Primrose maybe we can brighten their holiday. © 2012 Stephen Yuen

Saturday Mass

Being more of a Sunday Christian than an everyday one, I find Holy Week (before Easter) and Christmas week to be taxing because of the multiple services that are shoehorned into an already crowded calendar.

This Saturday, however, I was receptive to an "extra" service. The setting was St. Paul's, a 100-year-old church on the Peninsula.

A group had gathered for the annual convocation of the Deanery--one of the organizations that I participate in and one of the many that are sprinkled throughout the Church. I was in a contemplative mood. The passage of another anniversaire will do that to you.

Where Fellowship Thrives

Elisabeth, UCC-Belmont, slices the roast.

As we did in March and May, volunteers from four congregations gathered to lend a hand to three Peninsula families in need of food and shelter.

Home and Hope, now in its eleventh year, is a group of 31 churches and synagogues who have banded together to help displaced families, who are housed for two-week periods at churches with sleeping accommodations. Guests spend the day at work, school, or Home and Hope's office-and-day-care facility in Burlingame. A van provides transportation for those who don't have cars or who are unable to take the bus.

I always try to volunteer on the same night that Diane brings a dish. Tonight she had slow-roasted a pork tenderloin, and its fragrance was wonderful as I entered the kitchen. I dropped off the dessert and left reluctantly. Normally I would stay for dinner, but this time I was recovering from a virus and didn't want to risk passing it on (though the doctor said yesterday I was no longer infectious).

At dinner the point of view is that of people sharing a meal together, not of one group serving food to another group. Fellowship, as we used to call it, is a term that has fallen into disuse. At Home and Hope fellowship still thrives. © 2012 Stephen Yuen

Not Just a Pitcher

Giants pitcher Madison Bumgarner appeared friendly and relaxed when he greeted hundreds of admirers in Burlingame on Sunday. The tall lefthander has endeared himself to the fans with his laid-back persona and tales of his farming roots. (He gave his wife a cow for her birthday.)

Update: Madison Bumgartner did it all on Tuesday night when he struck out 12 Astros and hit his first major-league home run in a 6-3 Giants victory.

Hoofing It in San Bruno

Huntington Ave.: behind the BART tracks are 101 and SFO.

The minivan was due for an oil change and a transmission check, but there were twelve cars in front of it. I would have to leave the van overnight in San Bruno.

My more intense, younger self would have called for a ride or taken a taxi, but now I welcome opportunities for contemplation. I began hoofing south toward Burlingame.

San Bruno is a working-class community. Crowded with older homes on small lots, it boomed during the post-war decades. Much of the city was constructed long before city planning became a discipline.

Light industry and commercial buildings intrude among the residential areas, which have narrow winding streets resembling San Francisco more than Orange County.

The Tanforan race track operated for 64 years (during World War II it was a Japanese-American internment camp) until the property was converted to a shopping mall in 1971.

San Francisco International Airport on the other side of the 101 freeway is a source of business and employment, as well as pollution and traffic.

San Bruno's best-known landmark is the Golden Gate National Cemetery, whose 161 acres comprise one of the few green expanses on the developed Peninsula.

We are always driving around or through San Bruno but rarely stop. Hoofing through the city allowed me to wander (like in this post) around the neighborhoods. There were a few run-down houses, but most were well-kept. Children played in front yards. A kid waited for a ride to his violin lesson. Trucks were parked on each block.

Burlingame fire station on Rollins Road.

The atmosphere is far from bucolic. Streets are being torn up. Construction occurs along miles of train tracks. Planes fly overhead. But it wasn't unpleasant; in San Bruno everyone is trying to create his own slice of heaven.

In tonier Burlingame, where I met the family for dinner, people seem to be trying just to keep what they have.