All posts by Mason

Grew up as a child prodigy on the piano. At age 12 participated in a Carnegie Hall Annex recital, followed by an encore performance for an audience of one: Louis Armstrong. Former writer and editor for the Miami News, technology columnist for The Miami Herald, freelance journalist for the Bucks County Herald in Lahaska, Pennsylvania.
Alice

Alice Qualifies for Aphasia Research Study

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Great news!  It’s now official.

Alice McCormick has been chosen to participate in a joint research project with the Aphasia Laboratory at the University of Washington and Portland State University.

Once her selection was announced, Alice consented enthusiastically.  Participation begins Jan. 5, 2016 with a week of comprehensive testing.

Aphasia followed Alice’s stroke

The Aphasia Laboratory at the University of Washington conducts research to better understand the complex processing of language and how it affects individuals with aphasia.  The project studies the theoretical nature of word-retrieval deficits in aphasia-stricken individuals with emphasis upon rehabilitation.

Word retrieval is related to one’s attention and cognitive processing, and the disorder known as aphasia is a common aftereffect of a stroke.  Except for the speech aphasia and an inability to put words to paper and/or keyboard, Alice appears to have fully recovered from her mishap.

Difficulty finding words is a core feature of aphasia, which affects approximately 80,000 people each year in the U.S.  Director of the University of Washington’s Aphasia Laboratory is Diane Kendall, whose focus is on rehabilitation and understanding the theoretical relationship between phonology (sounds) and aphasia.  Her overall career objectives are to conduct systematic treatment research that creates better patient outcomes.

Through various awards and grants, Dr. Kendall continues to systematically test and refine protocols in phonomotor treatment for word-retrieval impairments in aphasia.  In 2013, the quality of her Standardized Assessment of Phonology in Aphasia won Dr. Kendall a Fulbright Scholar Award to teach and conduct research at the University of Pretoria, South Africa.

Treatment at Home and at Portland State U

The Aphasia Research Laboratory is affiliated with the University of Washington Integrated Brain Imaging Center.  After Alice’s pre-testing week, she will receive six full weeks of treatment on a one-on-one basis with Wesley Allen, research speech-language pathologist, who works directly with Dr. Kendall.  For Alice, this is big time.

Once the six weeks of hands-on treatment is finished, four more days of testing will follow, culminating three months later with a final round of testing.

I hope to report in depth on Alice’s progress and the rigorous treatment road ahead.  We are both enthusiastic about this turn of events and hope this development signifies giant opportunities for the two of us.

Alice has been supportive of my partnering with Uber as a driver, but deep down inside, she prefers that I be at home writing my memoirs while she is working.  Driving in Portland has turned out to be a dependable source of revenue for us, but it distracts from the goal we set back in September 2014 for our trek West to the Beaver State.

My life story hangs in the balance, and so does our survival.  Onward and upward!

Read more about Alice’s stroke and recovery in the archives of this blog beginning with March 2015.

 

Alice

Alice Is Laid Off

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Alice and I received some disconcerting news two weeks ago.  KinderCare is cutting back on her work hours even more.

Alice already was down to two hours a day, although she made herself available to work extra hours when asked to do so.  Alice’s new schedule, according to the Hillsboro office manager, shows Alice “on call.”  The only good part of this: Alice’s commuting expense is reduced.

To see how “on call” was going to work, I waited to report this development until two weeks had gone by.  Now I can relate the result: No work at all.

This unofficial layoff is exacting a toll on my writing work.  Whenever I have free time, I drive for Uber.  That’s because the peak season for tourists has ended, and Uber’s continuing recruitment of drivers has saturated the market.

Some Good News for a Change

Alice appears to be chosen as a participant for a joint research aphasia project created by the University of Washington and Portland State University.  We are awaiting an evaluation of Alice’s brain scans following her stroke, before the good news becomes official.

If she participates, Alice will undergo intensive therapy for six weeks that will target her speech aphasia five days a week.  We are both excited and on edge about her prospects, but I am nervous about mounting financial obligations.  I have become fearful, and it plays havoc on our relationship.

We will see what the future brings, and are grateful for the support by friends and family reflected on this website.  We especially acknowledge the private contributions that lift our spirits beyond measure.

Thank you.

Alice enjoys bacon and eggs for breakfast.
Alice’s  breakfast of  bacon and eggs puts on a happy face.
Alice

Alice Looks Terrific in Pacific City

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Portland’s rainy season erupted in October.  This is a normal occurrence, so six weeks ago Alice and I ventured to the Coast for a day trip.  We filled our senses with cool salt air, traipsing across the sand of Pacific City, Oregon, west of Tillamook, where fishermen launch their dories.  While soaking in the scenery, we renewed our zest for living.

As you can see, the weather was glorious with temperatures in the mid-70s.  That’s because Alice insisted we take the self-guided tour before meteorological fall in the Pacific Northwest took effect.

I have no complaints.  Here are some pictures to document why.

Pictorial of Pacific City Trip

Mist hugging Cape Kiwanda creates surreal feeling in the middle of the afternoon.
Mist hugging Cape Kiwanda creates surreal feeling in the middle of the afternoon.
This imposing rock formation at Netarts Spit in Cape Lookout State Park allows the ocean to rush inside.
This imposing rock formation at Netarts Spit in Cape Lookout State Park allows the ocean to rush inside.
A six-story sand dune offers a picturesque view of Cape Kiwanda's surrounding area.
A six-story sand dune offers a picturesque view of Cape Kiwanda’s surrounding area.
After many visual treats, Alice appears pleased with her day-trip excursion to Pacific City.
After many visual treats, Alice appears pleased with her day-trip excursion to Pacific City.

 

Loika

Final installment added

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My mother’s account of life with Virgil and the birth of all three sons has finally been posted.  You can read the final part at Part VIII.

The photo at the bottom of this post captures my grandfather, Mason, and grandmother, Grace, with their five offspring: Gladys, Richard, Grace Wiley, Bill and my mother, Thelma.

Oh yes, the small interloper sitting on a log is yours truly.  Alice placed this family picture in a frame, and it sits prominently on my dresser bureau.

(l-r, top) Gladys, Richard, Mason (grandpa), Grace Wiley, Bill, and Thelma Johnston. (sitting on log) gramdson Mason Loika.
(l-r, top) Gladys, Richard, Mason (grandpa), Grace Wiley, Bill, and Thelma Johnston. (sitting on log) gramdson Mason Loika.

 

 

21st Century Politics

Donald Trump Mouths Off Against Immigrants

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The silly season is well under way.

In a bid to have their egos and “values” stroked on another televised episode of “America’s Politicians and How They Got That Way,” seventeen candidates for President of these United States threw their straw hats into the Republican ring earlier this year.

While shedding themselves of Rick Perry and Scott Walker, one of their ilk made an extraordinary mess.

Republican presidential candidate Donald Trump gestures and declares "You're fired!" at a rally in Manchester, New Hampshire, June 17, 2015. Reuters
Republican presidential candidate Donald Trump gestures and declares “You’re fired!” at a rally in Manchester, New Hampshire, June 17, 2015. Reuters

Trump Is Not a Happy Guy

Donald Trump, emboldened on past celebrity exposure, became the Koch Brothers’ pandering ringleader by riling the masses with outrageous epithets toward Mexican-American citizens, while Jeb Bush forthrightly held his temper.  I don’t need to requote “The Donald” here, except to express astonishment over his latest salvo: He says his Republican rivals plan to start the next world war over Syria.  Where do they plan to recruit soldiers: from immigrants?

On this website is “Virgil’s Story,” where anyone can deduce that Virgil’s contribution to my ancestry was a rabbi’s ingenious ruse enabling him to slip by U.S. immigration gendarmes on Ellis Island.  You can read it here.  My father’s later fame to claim was that of a renowned big-band musician; he’s one of many immigrants who excelled once arriving on these shores.

What would Donald Trump do with everyone whose descent evolved from ploys similar to my father’s?  Would he subject our nation of immigrants to checking, double-checking and eventual deportation?

Of course not.  That’s why I see the aftermath of Trump’s obnoxious mouth as a sign of the silly season.

Is Marco Rubio looking aghast at the photographer?
Marco Rubio at a political rally

Anti-Communism as a hammer

But why hasn’t Marco Rubio raised holy hell about Trump?  As the photogenic son of an immigrant Cuban, certainly he sees behind the inherent danger of the “blame game,” in which politicians conjure up scapegoats to explain tough financial times, i.e. targeting immigrants whose ethnic experience differs vastly from Europeans.

How would Rubio answer the question, “Do Cubans think of themselves as better than Mexicans?

That’s not a stupid question, either.  In Miami for 50 years, I became familiar with Cuban social circles ever since Cubanos left their island nation to avoid political persecution.  Their exodus eventually transformed politics in Miami, and their brain-trust Latin Builders Association became South Florida’s money machine.

On their way up the ladder, Cubans pushed African-Americans to the back of the bus once again.  I wonder if Cuban exile politics finds it expedient to expose the whole country to unfair categorizations of Mexican-Americans.  When I lived in Southern California in the late 1960s and early ’70s, I discovered Mexican immigrants to be mostly deferential and anxious to stay below the radar.

Only when an undocumented immigrant commits an unspeakable crime does the reputation of that ethnicity become viral.  I say, “None of these accusations and innuendos is good for the country.”  Intolerant generalizations of ethnic groups divide us, and dash the concept of nobility against the rocks of vile behavior.

The Travesty of Republicanism

Republicans of the 21st Century are so dissimilar from their forefathers that they resemble miscreants who will do and say anything to get elected, while pursuing hidden agendas from wealthy contributors who try to remain masked by PACs (political action committees).

As a youngster, “I liked Ike.”  I remember when conservatism was synonymous with “conservation.”  Republicans then espoused protecting the environment; these days, I hear none of them embracing the inescapable fact that global warming is real.

What I despise most is that today’s Republicans have turned this country into a one-party system.  I believe we deserve a choice, but how can anyone deny the rising seas that are a direct result of climate change caused by human activity?

We can only laugh when the sideshow of politics borders on the absurd.  Let’s hope someone steps forward – besides a Democrat – who cares enough about this country to inspire a serious conversation.  Only then will we be able to stop laughing at this train wreck of a long-running stupid, silly season.

Loika

Additions to Virgil’s Story

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Over the last couple of weeks, I added two additional parts of Virgil’s story as chronicled by my mother, Thelma Johnston Loika.

The latest addition to the Loika family, brother Jonathan Virgil Loika, pictured above, would need less wintry gear in the new Florida climate.

Part VI was added two weeks ago; the latest, Part VII, earlier today.

Only one more part of my mom’s chronicle remains, and it ends with a final addition to the Loika family, Robert Christopher.  Perhaps he will feel inspired afterward to add his own two cents worth.

 

 

Media matters

Gay Intolerance Sucks

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The media is making much of Kim Davis and her old Kentucky homeland refusal to put a legal stamp of approval on “same-sex marriage.”  The U.S. Supreme Court earlier this year ruled what her legal duty should be, but she refuses to recognize her constitutional duty, claiming it violates her moral principles.

Some Republican candidates for President already jumped on this illegal bandwagon, and their agendas pander to fear, hatred and ignorance.  Christians have become split about the validity – and wisdom – of Davis’ behavior, and some officials call upon Davis to resign her $80,000-a-year job, because she chooses not to fulfill the duties of office.

In tear-filled statements, Davis addresses the news media portraying herself as torn between moral conscience and duty.  Is she right to stick to her guns (so to speak)?  More importantly, her professed dilemma personifies the underlying conflict I thought the judicial system had supposedly answered once and for all: That it’s okay for two men to marry.  Or two women.

It’s time to debunk the myths about what’s going on here once and for all.

Men vs. Women

What is a man?  On a scale of 1 to 10, how much masculinity must a man display to call himself a man?  Is it the image portrayed by the former advertisers of Marlboro cigarets?  Is a man entitled to be strong-willed and, in a disagreement with a woman, always right?

Must a man always behave as a 10 on the masculine scale, always ready to do battle?

And what about women?  Is there a similar scale of 1 to 10 whereby women must ultimately judge herself?  Is a woman supposed to behave vacuously, without any principles other than what her partner defers to her?  To call herself a woman, must she eschew intellectual pursuits in lieu of putting makeup on and finding ways to enlarge her bust?

Of course, we know the correct answers, but that’s only because of this time in history.

Sexual politics and religion

Across the ocean, fundamentalist Muslims require women to wear head scarves and cover up any bare skin, thereby obeying Sharia law.  Women in mostly Muslim countries are viewed as subservient to men.  And that, I think, is how civilization may have been once upon a time, or at least that’s the attendant fictional legacy.

In America and other forward-looking countries, women are no longer required to be – or act – submissive.  And men are free to become submissive and adopt what traditionally were thought to be feminine traits.

I believe that when two individuals with identical genitalia share intimate contact, one of them is behaving more like a male, and the other like a female.  They may sometimes switch roles, but that’s the exception rather than the norm.  Identifying two men or two women as a homosexual couple is nothing more than a label to help the rest of the world understand what looks like a same-sex relationship.

Considering the nature of my own relationships with women, I can hardly put myself on the Marlboro scale of a “10,” but neither have I become a “1” either.

People like Davis think they walk a higher moral ground, but I disagree.  Instead, they’re the epitome of intolerance and bigotry.  They justify this aberrant behavior on “moral values,” but it’s more the practice of a longstanding justification to be close-minded and impersonal based upon outward appearance.

Leadership requires courage

We need to stop coddling public servants who are supposed to lead by example, not by ridicule.  I see no love or responsibility in her obstinance.

As men and women, we exhibit different forms of transgender tendencies.  For most of us, it’s not as blatant as those who are identified as the LGBT community at large.  But our affinity to one type of behavior has changed and is more diversified than we realize.

That’s why there’s such a fear of homosexuals or transgender people.  They remind us of dark places inside our own identities or past experiences that cause severe discomfort.

In this country, public officials are here to serve all the people, not just the ones who resemble them.

Portland

Our Move Is Complete

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Over the last two weeks, Alice and I – with the help of two freelance movers – transferred the entire contents of our two-bedroom, two-bath apartment from Hillsboro to the Tanasbourne section of Portland.  The two of us are now officially Portlanders.

The distance involved (five miles) was relatively minor, considering the nearly 3,000 miles our initial move from Pennsylvania entailed during the fall of 2014.  However, the cost of relocating from Hillsboro was considerably more than projected, and the two-week-long move required a great amount of work on our part.  We’re not as young as we once were.

The Quest, an outdoor marble sculpture and fountain, was carved from a single 200-ton block of marble and situated in front of the Standard Insurance Company's building at 900 SW Fifth Avenue in Portland. The sculpture, carved in Italy from a single 200-ton block of white marble quarried in Greece, was installed in 1970. According to its artist, Count Alexander von Svoboda, the figures represent man's eternal search for brotherhood and enlightenment.
The Quest, an outdoor marble sculpture and fountain, was carved from a single 200-ton block of marble and situated in front of the Standard Insurance Company’s building at 900 SW Fifth Avenue in Portland. The sculpture, carved in Italy from marble quarried in Greece, was installed in 1970. According to its artist, Count Alexander von Svoboda, the figures represent man’s eternal search for brotherhood and enlightenment.  Not all Portlanders look at it this way, though.

The price of progress in Portland

Portland is booming.  The number of people moving into the area has been overwhelming the city’s resources, although real estate speculators are hungrily maximizing sizable financial rewards.  No one argues with the proffered observation that the “Rose City” – also known as the city of bridges – is being San Francisco-sized.

This hookah bar and restaurant on Belmont Street appears built like a gingerbread house.
This hookah bar and restaurant on Belmont Street appears built like a gingerbread house.

Everywhere one travels appear massive construction projects.  Part of the allure can be attributed to stunning scenery as well as marijuana retail outlets that are popping up to market the wacky tobaccy’s mind-altering products starting October 1.  Traffic snarls continuously challenge long-term residents’ commutes and exasperate newcomers.

But back to Alice and me.  Only two days ago, our new apartment was so crammed with possessions that boxes were piled to the ceiling.  I felt depressed and worried.  Fortuitously, a newly vacant nearby garage was a godsend, but our overflow of goods had to be taken there before the apartment complex’s parking lot was repaved – Sept. 5, as it turns out!

As I look around our 40-year-old rental townhome and walk through its two-story layout, the aesthetics of Alice’s arrangements are striking.  In addition, the landscaping here is not sterile as was the case at the Commons at Dawson Creek.

Living in a multi-ethnic housing complex

Our new neighbors represent a true mix of ethnicities, many of whom are working people.  Yes, Virginia, many are Mexicans, but we represent a true melting pot that abhor the divisions being exasperated by a certain Republican candidate for U.S. President.  More about my feelings on that subject in a future post.

Our new digs should serve as an ideal window on life in Portland while I continue to explore my ancestry.  The photo atop this post shows Alice’s arrangement of the home office from where I write.

Writing is as important as ever.  Trusted, valued family members already archived voluminous records of my mother’s side of the family, but much is unknown about my father’s side.  To remedy this mystery, I submitted a DNA sample to ancestry.com yesterday to see where that might lead.

Looking back

Alice and I dealt with a variety of challenges; we accomplished them because I drove for Uber often over the last eight weeks, leaving Alice alone.  If Portland had not allowed Uber into town, we would not have had the necessary resources for a second move in less than a year.

Room arrangement by Alice McCormick, whose sense of aesthetics knocks me out.
Our living room arrangement by Alice McCormick, whose sense of aesthetics knocks me out.

A word of thanks …

goes out to our Farmers insurance agent, Jasper Torrence.  She and husband Zack treated us to dinner and wine at Golden Valley Brewery’s Beaverton restaurant immediately after the move was complete, and both pledged help in case an emergency arose.  Jasper even greased the wheels so we could donate a carful of non-essentials to a nearby Goodwill outlet.

This couple’s Christian spirit went beyond the call of duty.  (Jasper was born into a minister’s family.)  We shall remember their hands of friendship for a long time, and we hope to reciprocate.

During the next two weeks, I will add more segments of “Virgil’s Story,” and more posts will appear on this blog, too.  To those who stuck with us, I say, “Thanks.”  It means a whole lot to Alice and me.

Loika

A Statement of Purpose

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Take a good look at the photo above.  In 2002, I wrote and co-published my first book, Gulag to Rhapsody by Paul Tarko, and appeared with Paul at book signings.  My name appears on its cover below his, because Paul Tarko’s life mirrors an ideal protagonist for my narrative nonfiction account entailing more than 300 printed pages.

Because my father, who took his life when I was 16, had an honorable lineage in Hungary, writing about Paul – 43 years later – reconnected me with my Hungarian/Romanian heritage.

The picture above is apropos, because my purpose in Oregon is to reappear in a similarly posed photo – this time, alone.  Alice brought me here to write another book – this time, about my own life.  “Write what you know best,” I once was coached by a writing instructor.  My life is what I know best; accordingly, I am destined to be its sole author.

I am here at the behest of Alice McCormick, who shed tears upon reading my early poetry, calling me a good writer.  Considering how writers/authors must endure a modest existence as part of their nature, I need to use my new location well.

Throughout all our struggles, Alice sees the best in precarious situations, and this attitude tempers my dark depression when it comes to our finances.  Whether it’s blissful unawareness or an unwillingness to comprehend simple math, she answers frequent moods of bottom-line depression with the kneejerk retort, “Well, everyone is in debt.”

I find her logic difficult to refute.  Her steady, rosy attitude snaps me out of darkness, because I am forced to dampen a torrent of fierce impatience.  Brightening my mood remains a constant challenge for her.

Frequently, I become so preposterous that Alice cracks up.
Frequently, I become so preposterous that Alice cracks up.

Sometimes, I make her laugh.  Other times, I frustrate her and exasperation leads into loquaciousness; on occasion, she expresses an emotional soliloquy without the usual speech aphasia frustrations from her stroke in March.  Whenever she appears to take one step back, she advances two steps.  And I rejoice!

I unintentionally piss her off for such breakthroughs to occur.  But I fervently wish our exchanges would not be so tempestuous, because emotionally they’re hard on me.

The last five weeks were a challenge.  I spent five days a week as an Uber driver beating the bushes for passengers in Portland, and at times its well-publicized phenomenon appeared to be slacking off.  Uber continues to seek more drivers, diluting demand; in its defense the “ride-sharing” service is also lowering the wait time for passengers who order its transportation on their smartphones.

The influx of revenue has enabled us to build up the required security deposit to move to an affordable apartment with a year-long lease.  And last week, I secured the funds to hire someone to move our possessions.

These added resources come with a heavy price, though.  Most days I am no longer home to work with Alice on speech exercises, so her path forward becomes lonely and treacherous.  She misses our camaraderie and stays to herself.

Creator gave me Alice.  Every time I get too full of myself, she brings me back down to size.  My head often gets too big for such a fragile body, so it seems like it’s her mission to make my personality tolerable.

Alice brought me to Oregon with a purpose: She would work in childcare, and I would write my next book.  Two weeks ago, the Hillsboro manager of KinderCare gave Alice a regular two-hour-a-day morning shift five days a week, and she began managing the babies and infants there with playful enthusiasm.

We are trying to lessen how much I drive, so I can be here to support Alice’s recovery while renewing a regular daily writing schedule.  There is much work to do to create a book about myself and my family background.  The pages on this website entitled “Virgil’s Story” are a sample of what is to appear in print.

In early August, Alice received a financial token of support from her best friend to help us.  We acknowledge the feelings expressed, and we promise to keep moving forward.

I have a working title for the book, which has been shared with only a few.  My close confidantes express support for the project, but it’s up to me to write the book and get a prospective publisher excited.

I wish I could wave a magic wand and proceed with the confidence that comes with following a well-traveled plan of action.  But every day offers a new challenge, so both of us keep putting one foot in front of the other.

For the next couple weeks, this website will not be updated until our move to new digs is complete and Internet service reestablished.  Stay tuned.