Sharon Jones & The Dap-Kings "100 Days, 100 Nights"

With all the talk about 100 days in the news recently, it behooves us to post the best thing having to do with the topic of "100 days" in recent history. Thank you to the late and great Sharon Jones and the Dap Kings. Masterfully soulful or soulfully masterful or both!

The Kid

When I arrived at the ballpark, half the baseball game had already been played. The scoreboard was 3-2 with the opposing team ahead. I stepped up the bleachers on the visitor team side and nodded my greeting to a fellow dad. I felt a little embarrassed for arriving halfway through the game and had to gather my thoughts which were everywhere and nowhere. I had dropped Lorenzo off about an hour before the game started so I didn’t even looked up at the batter at home plate when I came back. It was a cool night. I sat next to a kid who was cool too, but I didn’t realize that until later.

The dad whom I had greeted told me, “Lorenzo is up.” That was all it took for me to dispose of my scattered thoughts. After a few pitches, Renzo sent a line drive to third which the player covering the base snatched. Two outs. It was a good play on his part and a great display of young, keen reflexes. In spite of that, the opposing team’s pitching began to crumble which, combined with a few hits here and there, brought us home enough times to catch up and pass them by more than a few runs.

The inning ended and teams exchanged field positions. I looked to my left and to my surprise the kid sitting next to me was someone I knew. He had been to school with one of my kids and we used to go to the same church.

“Hey, kid! I’m sorry! I didn’t even notice it was you sitting here next to me all along. Good to see you. How are you?”
“I’m good.”
“Are you playing baseball this season?”
“No.”
“You’re just enjoying the game, I suppose.”
“My friend is playing. I came with him.”
“What sport are you playing now?”
“I’m playing soccer and I’m also playing football.”
“You’re playing two sports!”
“I’m trying to fit as many sports into my schedule as I can.”

My one and only thought when I heard this was, “Mic drop!”

It’s nothing strange for kids to have full schedules. Kids who keep themselves active (or are made so by their parents) while at school remain healthier for the most part. Of course, there’s a level of toxicity to an excessively full schedule, but lack of activity will rob anyone of precious years of life. However, full schedules are the particular reality of the overachieving kids who find themselves in the Fairfax County Public Schools or the schools of Northern Virginia at large. They keep a full school load and excel at it, then they play sports, do after school clubs and activities, they play musical instruments, are boy and girl scouts, etc. That’s the way they roll and it’s just normal around these parts. This kid sitting next to me at the local ballpark was one of them.

As I kept my short conversation with him I asked, knowing he's soon to be in middle school,

“Will you be going to such and such a school next school year?”
“No, I’m going to Lanier.”
I said, “I guess you had the option to go to one or the other, right?”
“I actually had four options.”
My one and only thought? Yeah...
“I see! So why Lanier?”
“Because of my friends.”

The kid’s unassuming coolness remained. I think his unawareness of it too. He was definitely self-assured and there is a fine line between self-assuredness and cockiness. But this wasn’t it. I said to myself, “Where’s this kid from?” Of course, I knew where he’s from. I even know where he lives. But fitting “as many sports into my schedule as possible” and “I actually had four options” are not your typical 6th grader responses.

Chances are this kid will be going places in his journey to adulthood. A lot of credit goes to his parents. They are the ones who keep him busy, but they are the hedges that protect him too. I wouldn’t be surprised if he runs for president one day. But if the odds are in his favor and he’s sworn in, I’ll be the only one remembering this mundane conversation mainly because of his two mics dropped on the bleachers at a little league ballpark many years before. That is unless the cool kid happens to have an extraordinary memory and also remembers it.

Ramen Gods

My wife called me after a long day at school and said, “Can you pick me up?” To which I replied with a spicy, “¡Por supuesto que sí, Mamisonga!” Once I arrived, she entered the car and said, “I’m hungry. I haven’t eaten anything all day!”

I’ve heard these words many times before. Normally, I remain composed and proceed to solve the problem with something like, “There’s warm, delicious food waiting for you at home. I cooked.” Works like a charm every time. Or I simply go to the nearest restaurant of her preference if there’s nothing ready to eat at home.

But this time after hearing such words, my gut went into overdrive. My brow started sweating. I gripped the wheel with two hands.

Hearing those words on that fateful day would let me know that not only hell knows no fury like a woman scorned; it knows no fury like a hungry woman. When the words entered my noggin, the thought process hit survival mode. It was all about self-preservation now so I thought to myself, “I should give her the wheel and walk home. It’s not too far and I love my arms.” I opted not to and braced myself to take it in the chin.

Confidently, I offered a favorite of ours, “Chick Fil A is close by.” Strike one big time! My woman wanted to eat a bear not a flimsy chicken sandwich. I offered by way of appeasement what I thought were a few better options. In my view, they would’ve taken care of the problem really quick, but I just stroke out a few more times. My silence between the options proposed began to increase.

Finally, I remembered a place I had come across while on a lunch break from an interpreting job I did some days earlier. It was a Japanese restaurant by the name of Jinya in the Mosaic District of Merrifield.

A month or so before, a documentary about Japan had caught my attention on Amazon Prime video. It’s name was Prime Japan and it spread throughout ten episodes with each one devoted to a different aspect of Japanese culture. Episode 3 was titled Ramen, the famed noodle.

Now, these were no mere mortal Ramen noodle soups that this documentary portrayed. The show explained in all its culinary delicacy how the Japanese had taken a simple and common Chinese staple and made it divinely their own. I was left hungry myself for some Ramen noodles after watching the episode.

So this Japanese joint named Jinya was my last blind resort to deal with my wife’s hunger from beyond. While I had the huge advantage of having seen what Ramen noodles were all about, neither one of us had tried the food. Not the way it was shown in the documentary. So once more I offered, treading ever so lightly,

“I know of a place that might interest you.”
She said, “Yeah, what?”
“Jinya. It’s a Ramen shop. Although the sign actually says ‘Jinya Ramen Bar’”, I said.
“What’s it about?”
“Noodle soup.”

I knew then I should have given her the wheel and walk home when I had the chance. “I don’t want no stinking soup! I told you I’m hungry!” Making a big effort to keep my cool, I said, “It’s like a Pho. It’s a pretty hearty soup.” But all I got was the stinking soup look.

I was at a loss as if trying to dig myself out of a hole but actually going deeper in it. My two hands still had a solemn grip on the wheel. The hunger of a female kind was still there intact, unmitigated. If there’s a boiling point for hunger, I was soon to find out. Problem was that I’d be its only witness. So I decided to zip it, but not before making a somewhat risky move. “You know”, I said to my woman, “when one has a problem one seeks solutions to it. If you’re hungry, why don’t you think of a place you’d like to eat? I’ll take you there.” I kept driving and went mum. The spoon was in her court.

Now, my dear reader, I had forgotten a cardinal rule of nature and that is that people don’t think too well when they’re hungry. I had put the ball in my woman’s court, but I had dealt her a poor hand. Totally unfair. Terrible. Somehow, I didn’t care. At that point, I had been reduced to a chauffeur.

After a few moments of heavy silence I couldn’t believe my ears. “What did you say the name of that place was?”

“Jinya.” I counted.
“Let’s try it.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”

I did not look up Jinya online after that first time I came upon it. Real foodies might go ahead and do their homework beforehand. Or not. Real foodies might simply take the plunge, sit at the table and dig in. The experience of eating the food is what matters in the end. The more people around the table the better.

Jinya simply looked like a pretty good restaurant to me. Besides, the name sounded way cool for a restaurant. I just needed to try it and was hoping to be in for a treat with my hungry woman. And more than a treat we got!

From the moment we entered their door, the hospitality at Jinyo was superb. The hostess immediately recognized my wife as a teacher at FHS where she had been a student a few years back. Our waiter couldn’t have been more courteous and patient with these first timers at what was from the looks of it a pretty awesome food joint. He explained the menu and recommended a few choices.

We ordered.
We waited little.
We tasted.
We went to heaven.
And back.

If there’s such a thing as Ramen gods, they have set up shop in the Mosaic District in Merrifield! Our visit to Jinya was an amazing culinary experience. I could see myself in the people enjoying their Ramen soups in the episode of Prime Japan. What a delicious soup!

By the end of my quest to conquer a woman’s hunger, my wife was a different human being. She was happy and said, “This thing is delicious!” Isn't it amazing what a plate or, in this case, a bowl of food can do to us? Especially when it is food not just to be consumed but to be embraced and enjoyed? I had to try her Parsley Ramen soup. Yes, the dish was delish! Mine you ask? Did I share mine with her? No, I didn’t. I was hungry too!